Part 4
For the first time, Grant looked almost entertained.
Vincent’s expression barely changed.
“You ran directly at one fifteen minutes ago.”
“That was different.”
“You grabbed me.”
“You were about to die.”
“You took my fork.”
“You’re welcome.”
Grant coughed into his fist.
Vincent looked at him.
Grant immediately became stone-faced again.
Molly folded her good arm across herself.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Vincent stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Someone persuaded a respected chef to serve me something dangerous in a room full of cameras. That means they either believe they control the evidence or they no longer care about being exposed. Neither possibility is good for you.”
Molly hated that he was right.
Vincent continued.
“You can leave alone and hope nobody follows you.”
Then he glanced toward Arthur.
“Or you can come somewhere secure until I understand what happened.”
“What happens to him?”
Arthur looked up.
Vincent followed her gaze.
“That depends on why he did it.”
Molly studied his face.
“You believe him about his son?”
“I believe frightened men make terrible liars.”
“So you’re not going to hurt him?”
Grant looked at Molly as though she had asked whether winter intended to apologize for snow.
Vincent, however, answered.
“Not tonight.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Something passed through Vincent’s eyes.
Perhaps irritation.
Perhaps respect.
“He helps me find his son,” Vincent said. “Then I decide what comes next.”
Molly shook her head.
“No.”
Vincent’s brows drew together.
“No?”
“If someone forced him by threatening his child, he isn’t the man who tried to kill you.”
“He still put the plate in front of me.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to overlook that?”
“I expect you to understand the difference between a choice and a cage.”
Vincent went still.
May you like
Molly’s voice softened.
“If somebody had my little brother and told me to poison you or watch him die, I don’t know what I would do.”
