Chapter 4 - The Man Who Paid for Darkness
Daniel spent the next week following Victor Dane’s money.
Grant spent it learning how to see again.
Shapes became outlines.
Outlines became colors.
Colors became painful fragments of a world he remembered too clearly.
Amelia stood beside him one morning.
“What do you see?”
Grant stared across the terrace.
“Water.”
“Color?”
“Blue.”
Hannah smiled.
“It’s gray today.”
Grant frowned.
“That’s disappointing.”
“It’s Long Island in November.”
Lucy giggled.
Grant pointed vaguely toward her.
“And that is yellow.”
Hannah looked at her daughter’s dress.
“Correct.”
Lucy clapped.
Grant smiled.
Then Daniel appeared.
“We need to talk.”
Inside the study, Daniel locked the door.
“Victor moved money through four medical foundations connected to Hale.”
Grant listened.
“And?”
“The payments didn’t stop after the explosion.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand every quarter.”
“For five years?”
“Yes.”
Hannah went pale.
“That wasn’t payment for one operation.”
“No,” Grant said. “It was maintenance.”
Daniel nodded.
Grant sat back.
“What does Victor believe now?”
“That you’re still completely blind.”
“Good.”
Hannah folded her arms.
“That word worries me.”
Grant looked toward her voice.
“Why?”
“Because every time you say ‘good,’ Daniel starts smiling like someone is about to disappear.”
Daniel stopped smiling.
Grant almost did too.
“We aren’t making anyone disappear.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow.
“Progress.”
Grant continued.
“We’re going to make Victor talk.”
“How?”
“By selling Pier 19.”
Daniel understood immediately.
Victor had spent years trying to gain access to Grant’s remaining waterfront terminal.
Grant would announce that blindness had finally convinced him to retire.
Victor would believe he had won.
Three nights later, Victor Dane entered Mercer House.
Grant waited at the head of a long dining table.
Dark glasses covered his recovering eyes.
Hannah served wine.
Daniel stood against the wall.
Victor was fifty-seven, handsome in the way rich men often were after paying for the preservation of every visible year.
“Grant.”
“Victor.”
“I was surprised by your call.”
“I’m tired.”
Victor sat.
“I never thought I’d hear Grant Mercer say that.”
“Losing a family changes a man.”
Victor’s smile vanished for half a second.
Grant saw it.
Barely.
But he saw it.
The first face he had recognized after five years belonged to the man he suspected had murdered his wife.
Grant’s stomach turned.
Victor reached for his wine.
“Pier 19.”
Grant nodded.
“I’ll sell.”
“For?”
“Three hundred million.”
Victor laughed.
“It’s worth half that.”
“Then leave.”
Victor studied him.
“Two hundred.”
“Two seventy-five.”
“Two twenty.”
Grant leaned back.
“Tell me something first.”
“What?”
“Did Caroline ever speak to you about the missing manifests?”
Victor’s hand stopped.
Only for a second.
Grant saw that too.
“No.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“She told me she did.”
Daniel watched from the wall.
Hannah kept pouring wine.
Victor’s voice hardened.
“Five years is a long time to remember conversations accurately.”
Grant smiled.
“Blindness didn’t damage my memory.”
“No.”
Victor leaned closer.
“But trauma did strange things to you.”
Grant’s pulse remained steady.
“What does that mean?”
Victor lifted his glass.
“Nothing.”
Dinner continued.
Victor negotiated.
Grant pretended exhaustion.
Then Hannah deliberately placed Victor’s water glass six inches from where it had been.
Grant reached for it accurately.
Victor noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
Grant realized his mistake immediately.
Victor said, “Your coordination has improved.”
Hannah interrupted.
“I moved the glass after Mr. Mercer touched the edge.”
Victor looked at her.
“Did you?”
“Yes, sir.”
He smiled.
“Loyal maid.”
“Hannah.”
Grant’s voice changed.
She stepped back.
Victor laughed.
“Relax. I admire loyalty.”
Grant turned toward him.
“So did Caroline.”
The smile disappeared.
Victor stood.
“I’ll consider your number.”
“Do that.”
At the door, he stopped.
“Grant?”
“Yes?”
“If doctors tell you something is permanent, sometimes it’s healthier to accept it.”
Grant’s blood ran cold.
Victor left.
Daniel locked the door.
“He knows.”
“Not yet.”
Hannah shook her head.
“He suspects.”
Grant removed his glasses.
His eyes were irritated but increasingly focused.
“Then we move faster.”
Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He checked the message.
His face changed.
“What?”
“Amelia.”
Grant stood.
“What happened?”
“She was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago.”
“And?”
“Her car was found abandoned two miles from here.”
Hannah covered Lucy’s ears instinctively.
Grant’s voice went flat.
“Find her.”
Daniel called his security team.
Grant crossed the room.
Hannah stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“With Daniel.”
“You can barely see.”
“I can see enough.”
“To do what?”
Grant turned.
The room was still blurred.
But Hannah’s face was becoming clearer.
Worried eyes.
Loose blonde strands near her cheeks.
The same yellow uniform she had worn every day without Grant ever knowing its color.
“Someone took the doctor helping me recover.”
Hannah stepped closer.
“And that is exactly why you shouldn’t walk into whatever trap they created.”
Grant stared at her.
“You’re arguing with me again.”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever get tired?”
“Constantly.”
Despite everything, Daniel snorted.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
“Grant.”
“What?”
“We found Amelia.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Grant exhaled.
“Where?”
Daniel looked toward him.
May you like
“At Pier 17.”
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