Detective Beckett studied the card.
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what my parents told me.”
Wyatt pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling the attorney.”
“It’s after midnight,” the detective said.
“I don’t care.”
The number on the card rang twice.
Then a man answered.
“Grayson.”
“My name is Wyatt Cole. I’m calling on behalf of Sadie Davis, granddaughter of Harold Davis.”
Silence followed.
Then the man’s voice became guarded.
“Where did you get this number?”
“Someone delivered your card to Sadie at the hospital.”
Another long silence.
“Is she safe?”
The question made everyone in the room still.
“For the moment,” Wyatt answered.
“Put me on speaker.”
Wyatt did.
Mr. Grayson spoke carefully.
“Sadie, I need you to listen. Your grandfather prepared a revised will six months before his death. Under that will, you inherited controlling ownership of Davis Development Holdings.”
I almost laughed.
