CHAPTER The Last Place Grant Could Hide
Grant escaped during a medical transfer.
He had complained of chest pain.
At the hospital entrance, an ambulance door opened unexpectedly.
A waiting vehicle blocked the security camera for eleven seconds.
That was enough.
Investigators believed the second attorney who witnessed Hannah’s false confession had helped arrange the escape.
The stolen drive contained copies of financial evidence, but all original records remained secure.
Grant was not trying to save himself by stealing it.
He wanted to destroy something stored inside.
Claire Dalton examined the drive index.
“There’s a remote-access key on it,” she said. “It can open Holloway’s backup servers.”
“Where are the servers?” Rebecca asked.
“Old Distribution Center Four.”
The facility had closed six years earlier.
It stood near the industrial canal, isolated behind rusted fencing and abandoned rail lines.
Grant intended to erase the records linking him to the shell companies.
Federal agents surrounded the property.
They told us to remain at the command post.
For once, I listened.
Hannah stood beside me wrapped in my coat.
The old warehouse was visible across the canal.
One row of windows glowed blue.
“He used to bring me there,” she said.
“Why?”
“He said he was teaching me how the family business worked.”
“What did he show you?”
“Nothing important. Empty offices. Old files.”
She suddenly turned toward Claire.
“Were the charity accounts stored on those servers?”
Claire nodded.
“Some of them.”
Hannah’s face changed.
“Grant didn’t use the charity only for money.”
“What else did he use it for?” I asked.
“Guest records.”
The Holloway Foundation operated temporary housing for women leaving abusive relationships.
Hannah had once helped manage the donor database.
Grant had access to the residents’ names, addresses, and emergency contacts.
“He knows where dozens of vulnerable women are staying,” Hannah said.
Rebecca immediately notified investigators.
Agents entered the warehouse.
Grant activated the server deletion sequence.
He also released private resident information onto a hidden online forum, intending to create chaos and force investigators to divide their attention.
But Hannah remembered the foundation’s emergency security code.
She worked with Claire to shut down the remote connection.
Ninety percent of the records were protected before they could be released.
Inside the warehouse, Grant barricaded himself in the server room.
He called my phone.
“You ruined everything,” he said.
“No. You finally ran out of people to blame.”
“My mother built that company.”
“She stole it.”
“Hannah belonged with me.”
“Hannah belongs to herself.”
“She’ll come back when the money is gone.”
“You still think this was about money.”
“What else is there?”
I looked at my daughter.
“Love without ownership. Family without fear. A life you could never understand.”
Grant laughed.
Then the server-room cameras showed him pouring fuel across the floor.
“If I lose it,” he said, “nobody gets it.”
Agents breached the door.
Grant ignited the fuel.
Fire suppression foam exploded from the ceiling.
He slipped before reaching the exit and crashed against the server rack.
Agents dragged him through the foam and handcuffed him.
This time, there was no escape route.
The evidence survived.
The residents’ identities remained protected.
Grant was returned to custody under armed guard.
As the warehouse burned behind him, he saw Hannah standing across the canal.
He shouted her name.
She did not turn around.
The company board met again that evening.
Arthur cast his shares with mine.
Margaret and Grant were removed from every position.
The merger was terminated.
The board appointed me interim chairwoman.
I had spent twenty-three years running a diner.
May you like
Now thousands of employees were waiting to learn whether their company would survive.
And the first document placed in front of me revealed Holloway Select had only eleven days of cash remaining.
