“She’s right,” Grant said, looking up from his hands. “My father has a jet fueled and ready at Boeing Field. He always keeps it ready.”

I grabbed my coat from the back of the chair.

“I’m going,” I said.

“Amelia, wait,” Naomi said, reaching for her purse. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” I said, stopping at the door. “You need to stay here and handle the federal authorities. Make sure they don’t let Conrad bury this.”

I looked at Grant.

“You’re coming with me,” I said.

He stared at me, his eyes wide with fear.

“If I go there, my father will kill me,” he said.

“If you don’t go, you’ll never see Lily again anyway,” I said. “And I will make sure the feds know you didn’t cooperate fully.”

Grant swallowed hard, then slowly stood up.

He looked smaller now, his expensive suit hanging loosely on his shoulders.

We walked out of the office and into the carpeted hallway.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage was silent.

The air in the garage was cool and damp, smelling of car exhaust and wet concrete.