Chapter 4 - What Eric Sold
Grace had imagined seeing Eric again a thousand times.
In some versions, she slapped him.
In others, she ignored him.
Sometimes she imagined him showing up at her door with an apology so perfect it erased every night she had spent wondering what was wrong with her.
She had never imagined seeing him through the narrow glass panel of a hospital security room while two guards stood between them.
Eric looked thinner.
His brown hair was longer.
There was a bruise beneath his left eye.
His expensive coat did not belong with the rest of him.
It looked new.
His fear looked older.
Grace stood in the hallway beside Hannah, Teresa, and Vincent.
Hannah had objected to Grace leaving her room.
Grace had objected louder.
In the end, a nurse pushed her in a wheelchair with a portable monitor strapped beneath her coat.
Eric saw her through the glass.
His face collapsed.
“Grace.”
She heard him through the intercom.
He stood too quickly.
A guard placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Sit down.”
Eric did.
Grace stared at him.
Seven months of anger should have exploded.
Instead, she felt almost nothing.
That frightened her.
Hannah leaned down.
“You can leave whenever you want.”
Grace nodded.
Vincent said nothing.
His presence filled the hallway anyway.
Grace pressed the intercom button.
“Did you cancel my appointment?”
Eric closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Teresa whispered a curse.
Grace’s hand tightened around the armrest.
“Why?”
Eric looked toward Vincent through the glass.
“I need to talk to Grace alone.”
Vincent’s face did not change.
Grace answered first.
“No.”
“Grace, please.”
“You disappeared while I was pregnant.”
She kept her voice steady.
“You do not get privacy now.”
Eric swallowed.
“The man standing next to you is dangerous.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Grace did not.
“So are you apparently.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By canceling my medical appointment?”
“I didn’t know it was that serious.”
“You knew why I was seeing the specialist.”
Eric looked down.
Grace leaned toward the glass.
“You knew about the placenta.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the baby’s heartbeat.”
“Yes.”
“And you still canceled it.”
“I was told they would reschedule you somewhere else.”
“Who told you?”
Eric’s eyes flicked to Vincent again.
Vincent noticed.
“Say the name,” he said.
Eric shook his head.
“I can’t.”
Vincent stepped toward the intercom.
Grace raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
Grace looked back at Eric.
“You left eleven days after I told you I was pregnant.”
Eric’s face twisted.
“I know.”
“Why?”
“I got a call at work.”
“From who?”
“A man.”
Grace laughed without humor.
“That’s useful.”
“He knew your name.”
“He knew you grew up in foster care.”
“He knew your mother was dead.”
Grace felt Vincent become completely still beside her.
Eric continued.
“He asked if I understood who Rebecca Miller had been involved with.”
Grace’s eyes shifted toward Vincent.
Eric followed them.
“He told me if I stayed with you, I would lose my job first.”
“Then what?”
“My career.”
“And?”
Eric’s voice lowered.
“He said eventually I would lose more than that.”
Grace stared at him.
“So you ran.”
“Yes.”
“You left me pregnant and ran because a stranger scared you.”
Eric’s face flushed.
“I was twenty-nine.”
Grace’s eyes hardened.
“My mother was nineteen when your people scared her,” she said without looking at Vincent.
Vincent absorbed the blow silently.
Eric pressed both hands against the table.
“It wasn’t only a threat.”
Grace waited.
“They offered me money.”
The hallway became silent.
Grace’s face went blank.
“How much?”
Eric looked sick.
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Teresa whispered, “Jesus.”
Grace could barely hear her.
“Did you take it?”
Eric did not answer.
Grace pressed the button harder.
“Did you take it?”
“Yes.”
The word hit with surgical precision.
Not because Grace still loved him.
Because some small part of her had spent seven months hoping fear was the whole explanation.
It was not.
Fear had opened the door.
Money had closed it behind him.
Grace nodded slowly.
“Who paid you?”
“I never met him directly.”
“How did you get the money?”
“Wire transfer.”
“From where?”
“A company called Northstar Municipal Consulting.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
Teresa noticed.
“So you know it,” she said.
Vincent looked at Eric.
“Northstar is a shell company.”
“Yours?” Grace asked.
“No.”
“How do I know that?”
“You don’t.”
Again, that infuriating refusal to defend himself too quickly.
Vincent took out his phone.
“Send me the account information.”
Eric shook his head.
“I don’t have it.”
“Then tell me where the money went.”
“I spent some.”
Vincent’s eyes turned cold.
“I did not ask how irresponsible you were.”
Grace looked at him sharply.
Vincent stopped talking.
Eric rubbed his hands together.
“I kept records.”
Grace stared.
“Why?”
“Because I figured if they threatened me once, they could do it again.”
“So you were brave enough to keep evidence after selling us.”
Eric flinched.
“Yes.”
Grace looked away.
The fetal monitor beneath her coat gave a warning beep.
Hannah touched her shoulder.
“Grace.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are contracting again.”
“I need five more minutes.”
“Three.”
Grace nodded.
She looked back at Eric.
“Why come here today?”
“Because they contacted me again yesterday.”
“Who?”
“The same voice.”
“What did he want?”
Eric hesitated.
“To cancel your appointment.”
“I know that part.”
“He also wanted me to get into your apartment.”
Grace’s stomach dropped.
Teresa stepped closer to the glass.
“You took the photos.”
Eric nodded.
Grace felt suddenly nauseated.
“You broke into my home.”
“I still knew the building code.”
“I changed the lock.”
“The landlord gave me a key.”
Grace stared at him.
“Why would Mr. Bell give you a key?”
Eric looked confused.
“He said you had authorized it.”
“I did not.”
Vincent turned to one of his men.
“Find the landlord.”
Grace’s voice cut across him.
“No.”
Vincent looked down at her.
“Police first.”
He paused.
Then nodded.
“Police first.”
It was such a small concession that Grace almost missed what it meant.
Vincent Caruso was used to issuing commands.
He had just accepted one from her.
Grace returned her attention to Eric.
“You photographed the money.”
“Yes.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Did you touch anything else?”
“No.”
“Then who sent the threat?”
Eric looked at her.
“I did.”
Grace’s face changed.
“I was told exactly what to write.”
“You told me to leave Philadelphia.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They said if you left before meeting Caruso, everyone would be safe.”
“Everyone?”
“You.”
“The baby.”
Eric looked toward Vincent.
“And me.”
Vincent leaned toward the intercom.
“Who gave you the instructions?”
Eric’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
Vincent’s patience disappeared.
“Give me a name.”
“I don’t know his real name.”
“What name did he use?”
Eric’s eyes darted to the door behind him.
“I need protection.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“From the people who paid you?”
“Yes.”
“Then talk to the police.”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“They asked for proof.”
“You said you kept records.”
“I did.”
“Where are they?”
Eric leaned closer to the microphone.
“In a safe-deposit box.”
“Which bank?” Vincent asked.
Eric looked at Grace instead.
“I’ll tell her.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
Grace pressed the intercom.
“Tell me.”
“First Federal on Walnut.”
“Box number?”
“Three seventeen.”
“Key?”
Eric swallowed.
“In my coat lining.”
A guard searched the coat.
He found a tiny brass key sewn beneath an inside seam.
Vincent stared at it.
Eric’s voice trembled.
“There’s more.”
Grace wished there were not.
“There’s always more.”
Eric looked directly at her.
“The man who called me said your mother had tried this once before.”
Grace stopped breathing.
“Tried what?”
“To come back.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“When?”
Eric looked terrified now.
“He said twenty-eight years ago.”
Teresa covered her mouth.
Vincent’s face became stone.
Eric continued.
“He said Rebecca should have understood the first warning.”
Grace felt every hair on her arms rise.
“What warning?”
Eric shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Grace leaned closer.
“What name did the caller use?”
Eric’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Mr. Vale.”
Vincent’s reaction was immediate.
He did not gasp.
He did not swear.
He simply stopped moving.
Teresa saw it.
“Vince.”
Grace looked between them.
“Who is Vale?”
Vincent took a long breath.
“There was a man my father used for problems he did not want connected to our family.”
Grace’s throat tightened.
“What kind of problems?”
Vincent looked at her.
“The kind that disappeared.”
Grace’s daughter kicked hard beneath the monitor.
Hannah’s voice became sharp.
“That is enough.”
She turned the wheelchair.
Grace grabbed the wheel rim.
“Wait.”
Hannah did not.
“You have contractions every six minutes.”
“I need to know—”
“You need your daughter to stay inside you.”
That ended the argument.
As Hannah pushed Grace away, Eric stood behind the glass.
“Grace.”
She did not turn.
“Grace, I’m sorry.”
She kept facing forward.
Then Eric shouted the one thing that made Vincent spin around.
“The voice wasn’t an old man.”
Vincent froze.
Eric continued.
“He called himself Vale, but he sounded forty.”
Teresa stared at her brother.
The original Mr. Vale would have been almost eighty now.
Which meant someone else had inherited the name.
May you like
Or someone inside the Caruso family had decided it was useful to resurrect a ghost.
