I lifted one finger, asking him to wait.
“You shouldn’t threaten me on a recorded hospital line,” I said.
Grant laughed softly.
“Still pretending you’re clever.”
“No,” I said. “I’m done pretending I’m not.”
Silence.
Then, low and venomous, he said, “You have no idea what family you married into.”
The call ended.
Dr. Reed stared at the phone.
“I’m calling Detective Voss.”
“Good,” I said.
But my mind was already elsewhere.
You have no idea what family you married into.
Grant had not said what man.
He had said what family.
Two hours later, Voss arrived with news that made the hospital room feel suddenly too small.
“Grant’s bail sponsor is dead,” she said.
I looked up.
“Who?”
“Martin Vale. Real estate developer. Longtime Mercer associate. He was found in his car this morning. Apparent suicide.”
“Apparent?”
Voss gave me a look that answered enough.
