Chapter 3 - The Child Vincent Wanted

I said nothing.

Vincent continued.

“You sound angry.”

“Where are you?”

“Not relevant.”

“You knew Jolene was alive.”

“Yes.”

“For five months.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Vincent laughed.

“Because Desmond is not as clever as he thinks.”

Desmond stood across from me.

His face had gone still.

I asked:

“What do you want?”

Vincent answered:

“The child.”

Everything in me changed.

“Say that again.”

“The child is Holloway blood.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is the only one that matters.”

I looked at Desmond.

He shook his head.

Vincent continued:

“You marry Monica, Langford capital enters the organization.”

“So?”

“Your first legitimate heir matters.”

Silence.

I understood.

“You want control of succession.”

“Yes.”

“Through my child.”

“Yes.”

I laughed quietly.

“You think I’m going to hand you my baby.”

Vincent answered:

“No.”

Then:

“I think Jolene will.”

My blood went cold.

“Where is she?”

Vincent hung up.

I turned to Desmond.

“Where?”

“I told you.”

“No.”

“You said she asked you not to tell me.”

“Yes.”

“Where is she?”

Desmond held my stare.

“Not where she was.”

“What does that mean?”

“She moved 3 weeks ago.”

I stopped.

“Without telling you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

I called Trent.

“Find Jolene.”

“I’m already working it.”

“Find Vincent too.”

“Done.”

“And Monica.”

A pause.

“She’s at the Langford estate.”

“Keep her there.”

“Grant?”

“What?”

“You should know something.”

I closed my eyes.

“What now?”

“Jolene used another name after she disappeared.”

“Which?”

“Jolene Mercer.”

“Why Mercer?”

“I don’t know.”

Desmond heard.

His face changed.

I noticed.

“You know that name.”

He looked away.

“Desmond.”

He sighed.

“Mercer was her mother’s name.”

I stared.

“You knew her family.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Her mother worked for us.”

Silence.

“In what capacity?”

“Accounts.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Everyone works in accounts.”

Desmond ignored it.

“Evelyn Mercer kept records for your father.”

My father had been dead 12 years.

I stared.

“Jolene’s mother worked for my father.”

“Yes.”

“Did Jolene know?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Evelyn disappeared when Jolene was 9.”

I stopped.

“What?”

Desmond continued:

“Jolene was told her mother abandoned her.”

“But?”

“She entered federal protection.”

I felt the pattern before he finished.

“Against my family.”

“Yes.”

“Against my father?”

Desmond nodded.

I looked toward the photograph of my father on the wall.

Another clean memory cracked.

“What did Evelyn know?”

“Financial records.”

“Violence?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

I looked at Desmond.

“And you knew all of this while I was with Jolene.”

“Yes.”

“Did my father hurt her mother?”

Desmond looked down.

“No.”

“But?”

“He ordered her found.”

Silence.

“Why?”

“Because she took ledgers.”

I stared.

“Did he find her?”

“No.”

Desmond continued:

“Evelyn vanished before he could.”

“And Jolene stayed.”

“Yes.”

“With who?”

“Her aunt.”

I remembered Jolene talking about being raised by her aunt.

Never about her mother.

I sat down.

For the first time since seeing her in the store.

The room felt wrong.

Every part of my life touched hers long before we met.

I asked:

“Why did she come back to Savannah now?”

Desmond looked at me.

“I think her mother came back first.”

I froze.

“Evelyn is alive.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

I laughed.

“Convenient.”

He nodded.

“Very.”

My phone vibrated.

Trent.

One address.

A motel near the river.

Jolene Mercer.

Checked in 6 days ago.

I stood.

Desmond said:

“Grant.”

I looked at him.

“Vincent may be watching.”

“Good.”

“What?”

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I put on my coat.

“Then he’ll know I’m done letting everyone else reach her before I do.”