Chapter 13 - Grant Hale's Offer.
Emma made Grant wait on the porch for six full minutes.
It was petty.
It was also satisfying.
When she finally opened the door, Mason stood out of sight in the library and Sloane remained upstairs with her phone recording audio through the open landing.
Clara had left through the kitchen after insisting Grant should not know how much they had discovered.
Emma stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
"You have five minutes."
Grant smiled.
He was in his late fifties, silver-haired, polished, and calmer than any man should have been after being recorded directing a deputy to pressure someone out of her home.
"You sound like Evelyn."
"You knew my grandmother?"
"Everyone in Bellamy knew Evelyn Reed."
"That was not my question."
Grant's smile thinned.
"Yes."
He offered the white envelope.
Emma did not take it.
"What is that?"
"Proof that Mason Cole accepted my money."
"You told your deputy he was still working for you."
Grant's eyes sharpened slightly.
"You were in the warehouse."
Emma smiled.
"You have three minutes."
Grant placed the envelope on the porch rail.
"Fifty thousand dollars entered Mason's business account four days ago."
"He says he never received it."
"Then he is lying to you again."
Emma looked toward the envelope but did not touch it.
Grant continued.
"I know he told you his contract was an elaborate attempt to gather evidence."
"You seem very interested in what Mason tells me."
"Because his lies are useful to me."
Grant stepped closer but remained outside her personal space.
"Your husband is not a hero, Emma."
"I am well aware of his flaws."
"Are you aware he approached me first?"
That caught her.
Grant saw it.
"Six months ago, Mason contacted my office asking whether I would purchase the Cole family's contingent interest in Briarstone."
Emma forced herself not to react.
"Do you have proof?"
"Email records."
"Records can be forged."
"So can signatures."
Grant glanced toward the house.
"That is what makes this entire dispute so unfortunate."
Emma hated how he spoke as if he were discussing weather.
"What do you want?"
"A clean transaction."
"There is no clean transaction."
"There can be."
Grant lowered his voice.
"I will pay you three million dollars for an option agreement effective after your thirty-day occupancy is complete."
Emma almost laughed.
"The property is worth at least twelve."
"The property requires millions in restoration and carries legal problems that could last years."
"Your surrounding parcels are worth far more if you have my road."
For the first time, Grant stopped smiling.
Emma knew she had struck the right place.
"Thomas Cole kept good notes," she said.
Grant's eyes changed.
"You found the ledger."
Emma said nothing.
Grant exhaled slowly.
"Then you also know your grandmother wasted decades protecting a pile of stone to punish my father."
"It seems to be working on you too."
Grant looked toward the overgrown ridge.
"I can give you a life that does not involve sleeping beside a cracked ceiling and fighting county departments for the next five years."
"And all I have to do is become the person you are trying to frame me as."
"No one is framing you."
Emma took out her phone.
"Would you like to hear your warehouse conversation?"
Grant's face remained calm, but his right hand tightened.
"Recordings can be misunderstood."
"That must be comforting."
Grant nodded toward the envelope.
"Look at the bank record before you decide whom to trust."
He walked back to his car.
Before opening the door, he turned.
"One more thing."
Emma waited.
"Ask Mason why Clara Voss had her hand on his chest two nights ago."
"I already did."
"Then ask Clara why she kissed him."
Grant got into the car and drove away.
Emma remained on the porch.
She hated that her heart had reacted to the last sentence.
She hated even more that Grant knew it would.
Mason opened the door behind her.
"Do not."
Emma picked up the envelope.
"Do not what?"
"Let him turn every secret into the worst possible explanation."
Emma faced him.
"Secrets make that easy."
Inside the envelope was a bank statement showing a fifty-thousand-dollar transfer from Hale Development Group to Cole Restoration LLC.
Two hours later, forty-eight thousand dollars had moved to a personal account ending in 7712.
Mason stared at the page.
"That is not my account."
"It has your name on it."
"I do not have a personal account at Bellamy National."
Sloane came downstairs.
"Mom does."
Mason looked at her.
Sloane's face had gone pale.
"She opened it when Dad died."
"Why would it have my name?"
"Because you were nineteen and she made you a joint holder."
Mason took out his phone.
He searched old emails until he found a bank notice from years earlier.
The account ended in 7712.
Emma felt a new knot form in her stomach.
"Who can move money from it?"
Mason whispered the answer.
"My mother."
Sloane looked at him.
"Diane has been talking to Grant."
Mason's face went hard.
"How do you know?"
Sloane hesitated.
May you like
Now it was her turn to keep a secret one second too long.
"Because I saw them together last month."
