Chapter 5: The Bar

Eli's forty-eight hours ran out in the bar on the ground floor of the Grand.

It was after midnight, and the room was empty except for a bartender polishing glasses at the far end.

I took the stool in the corner.

Eli took the one beside it and set a thin folder on the bar between us.

"Raymond Danner," he said. "Joan's husband. Bryce's father."

"Go on."

"He owned eleven small hotels in Ohio and Pennsylvania. Roadside places. Twelve years ago he borrowed against all eleven to build a twelfth."

"And?"

"The twelfth didn't open on time. The loan came due. Your father's company held the note."

I turned the glass in my hand.

"So my father foreclosed."

"Your father bought the debt and exercised it. It was legal. It was done by the book."

"That's not what Bryce said."

"Bryce says Raymond lost everything in one winter and did not recover."

He stopped.

I waited.

"Raymond died that December," Eli said.

"How?"

"Hannah."

"How, Eli?"

He looked at the folder and not at me.

"He took his own life. I'm sorry."

The bartender had stopped polishing.

I put the glass down so hard that the stem broke in my hand.

I didn't feel it at first.

"You're bleeding," Eli said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

He reached across, took my wrist in one hand and turned my palm up.

A clean line ran across the base of my thumb, beading dark.

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