Chapter 9: The Thursday He Didn't See Coming
JAG moved on Wednesday.
Renata called me at seven in the morning, before Eve was fully awake, while I was standing in the kitchen with a coffee I hadn't tasted yet.
"They executed a document preservation order on Holloway Meridian Group this morning," she said.
"All billing records, communications, and internal authorizations going back twenty-four months.
Grant's attorney was notified at six-thirty."
"How did Grant take it?"
"His attorney filed an immediate objection.
Standard response.
It won't hold." A pause.
"There's something else.
When JAG's team arrived at the firm's offices, they found that someone had attempted to delete files from the billing system late Tuesday night.
The deletion was incomplete — the system has automatic backups that run every four hours — but the attempt was logged with a timestamp and a user credential."
"Whose credential?"
"Diane Rourke's."
I set my coffee down.
"She tried to destroy the records," I said.
"She tried.
She didn't succeed.
And now JAG has the deletion attempt as additional evidence on top of the original irregularities."
I thought about Diane's message.
*There are things Grant hasn't told you.
Things you need to know before he does.* She had contacted me the night I was in labor, positioned herself as someone coming forward with the truth, and then two days later tried to erase the evidence that connected her to the fraud.
She hadn't been warning me.
She had been trying to find out how much I already knew.
"Is she in custody?" I asked.
"Interviewed and released pending the investigation.
Her attorney showed up within the hour, which suggests she had one on standby." Renata paused.
"JAG thinks she and Grant had a contingency plan.
If the records were flagged, she would clear the trail and he would have clean hands."
"Except the backups."
"Except the backups," Renata agreed.
"Four-hour intervals.
The deletion happened at eleven-fifty-two Tuesday night.
The last backup before that ran at ten.
Everything is intact."
I picked up my coffee again.
"What does JAG need from me?"
"A formal interview.
Thursday at ten.
They want your account of your oversight role and confirmation that your division's review process operated independently of any knowledge of the irregularities."
"I'll be there."
"Colonel." Renata's voice shifted slightly.
"Grant's attorney also contacted Patricia this morning.
He's requesting an urgent meeting.
Today."
"Patricia knows not to schedule anything without my approval."
"She told him that.
He said Grant wants to make a statement before the JAG interview.
He used the phrase 'full cooperation.'"
Full cooperation.
The language of a man who has done the math and doesn't like the answer.
"Tell Patricia to schedule it for this afternoon," I said.
"Her office.
She's present for the entire meeting.
Nothing is agreed to, nothing is signed, nothing is promised.
I will listen and I will say nothing."
"Understood."
"And Renata — thank you.
For all of it."
"You'd have done the same," she said.
"Go take care of Eve."
Grant arrived at Patricia's office at two o'clock with his attorney, a man named Sutherland who had the careful, expensive manner of someone who had spent decades managing other people's catastrophes.
Grant himself looked like he had not slept.
His suit was correct but his eyes were not.
He sat across the conference table from me and Patricia and did not look at the table between us.
"Grant has asked me to convey," Sutherland began, "that he is prepared to offer full cooperation with the JAG investigation and to provide a complete accounting of his interactions with Warren Caulfield and with Ms.
Rourke."
"In exchange for what?" Patricia said.
"Consideration in the divorce proceedings.
Specifically, we're asking that Colonel Langley not pursue any additional civil claims arising from the billing irregularities, given that Grant's cooperation will be material to JAG's case."
Patricia made a note.
Said nothing.
I looked at Grant.
"Say it yourself," I said.
Sutherland started to speak.
I kept my eyes on Grant.
"Say it yourself, Grant."
Sutherland stopped.
Grant looked at me for the first time since he had sat down.
He looked tired in a way that went past one sleepless night.
"I made a mistake," he said.
"Several of them.
Caulfield told me the invoice amendments were a standard practice — a way of recapturing costs that the contract terms didn't adequately cover.
I should have questioned it more carefully.
I didn't."
"And Diane?"
A pause.
"She was handling the billing process.
She knew the amendments weren't standard.
She told me it was fine."
"So she knew and you trusted her."
"Yes."
"And the divorce planning?
The meeting with Caulfield eight months ago?
The attorney appointment for next Thursday?"
His jaw tightened.
"I was unhappy.
I handled it badly."
"You were planning to file the moment my inheritance cleared," I said.
"You wanted to catch me financially exposed.
You had someone in place to help you restructure before proceedings began.
That's not handling something badly, Grant.
That's a plan."
He didn't deny it.
"I'll cooperate with JAG," he said.
"Fully.
Whatever they need."
"I know you will," I said.
"Because the alternative is considerably worse." I stood up.
"Patricia will handle the divorce terms.
I won't be pursuing additional civil claims as long as your cooperation is genuine and complete.
But I want one thing clearly understood."
He waited.
"Eve," I said.
"She is not a bargaining position.
She is not leverage.
She is not a line in a settlement.
You will be her father because she deserves one — not because it benefits either of us.
If that changes, everything changes."
He nodded.
It was a small nod, but it was real.
"We're done here," I said.
I picked up my bag and walked out of the conference room, through the lobby, and into the afternoon air.
My car was at the curb.
Marcus was standing beside it.
"How did it go?" he asked.
"He folded," I said.
Marcus opened the door.
"Eve's with the neighbor?"
"Until four."
"Then we have time," he said.
"There's a decent coffee place two blocks from here.
You look like you could use one that's actually hot."
I looked at him.
He had driven me for four years.
He had sat in a hospital chair all night in his coat.
He had retrieved my clothes at six in the morning without being asked.
"Marcus," I said.
"After this is over, I'm giving you a raise."
"After this is over," he said, "I'm going to take a vacation."
I laughed.
May you like
It came out more easily than I expected.
"Fair enough," I said, and got in the car.
