Chapter 18 - Pier Four
Claire did not go alone.
She simply made sure Grant believed she had.
At 11:58 p.m., she walked onto Pier Four carrying a metal case.
Ethan’s security team remained out of sight. Federal agents watched from two warehouses. Amelia’s recording had been copied twelve times.
Grant stood beside a black sedan with Vanessa bound in the back seat.
He looked older than he had on television.
Not weaker. Just stripped of polish.
“Put the case down.”
Claire obeyed.
“Let her go.”
Grant smiled. “You sound like Amelia.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
He opened the case and saw the microcassette.
“Thirty years,” he whispered. “One frightened woman nearly destroyed everything.”
“She tried to stop patients from dying.”
“She tried to destroy a company that employed twelve thousand people.”
“There’s always a noble sentence men like you use after choosing money.”
Grant’s face tightened.
Vanessa kicked the inside of the car.
“Dad!”
Grant flinched at the word.
Claire noticed.
“You still love her.”
“Do not talk about my daughter.”
“She is Victor’s daughter.”
Grant raised a gun.
Claire did not move.
“No,” she said. “She is the daughter you raised. Biology doesn’t erase thirty years. But if you shoot me in front of her, you erase whatever father she still thinks you are.”
Grant’s hand shook.
Vanessa began to cry.
“Please.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Grant spun toward the warehouse.
“You lied.”
“Constantly tonight.”
He fired toward the lights.
Agents returned fire.
Ethan ran from cover as Claire dropped behind a concrete barrier.
Grant dragged Vanessa from the car and held the gun against her side.
Then Vanessa drove her heel down on his foot and threw herself sideways.
Claire lunged, pulling her behind the barrier.
Grant ran toward the edge of the pier.
Ethan tackled him three feet from the water.
The gun skidded away.
Grant reached for it.
Claire got there first.
She picked it up.
For one terrible second, Grant Holloway looked up at her and understood she could end everything.
“Your mother would pull the trigger,” he said.
Claire aimed at his chest.
Then Amelia’s voice echoed in her memory, asking for truth, not revenge.
Claire lowered the weapon.
“No,” she said. “That’s the difference between us.”
Federal agents handcuffed Grant.
But as they pulled him upright, he laughed.
“You think this ends with me?”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
May you like
Grant looked at Ethan.
“Ask your husband what Malcolm offered him this morning.”
