Chapter 6
My mother lived forty minutes north of us in a small brick house she had bought after my father died.
She had never heard of Mercer Family Consulting.
At least that was what I wanted to believe.
Emily sat on the edge of our bed while I called her.
It was after midnight.
Mom answered sounding groggy.
“Ryan?”
“Mom, I need you to listen carefully.”
“What happened?”
“Is Jake with you?”
Silence.
I stood straighter.
“Mom?”
“He was here earlier.”
My blood turned cold.
“When?”
“Around seven.”
“Why?”
“He said he needed to borrow the printer.”
I shut my eyes.
Of course.
“What did he print?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he use your computer?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask for mail?”
Another pause.
“Ryan, you’re scaring me.”
“Answer me.”
“He asked if anything came for him.”
“At your house?”
“He’s used my address before.”
I paced across the room.
Emily watched me.
“Mom, there’s an LLC registered to your address.”
“What’s an LLC?”
“A company.”
“I don’t have a company.”
“I know.”
“Is this about Jake?”
“Yes.”
She sighed heavily.
Then she said the sentence I had been dreading.
“What did he do this time?”
That question.
Not what happened.
Not could there be a mistake.
What did he do this time?
Even my mother knew.
I told her about the loans.
The forged signatures.
The cameras.
The insurance request.
She started crying.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Mom.”
“He makes bad choices, but he wouldn’t—”
“Stop.”
Emily looked at me.
I rarely spoke to my mother like that.
But I couldn’t listen to another person defend him.
“He put a camera in my bedroom.”
My mother went silent.
“He stole our identities.”
Nothing.
“He used Emily’s personal information.”
She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I sat down.
“Did you give him any of my documents?”
“No.”
“Did you give him access to anything?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Think.”
She was quiet.
Then her breathing changed.
“Oh.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Your father’s old filing cabinet.”
“What about it?”
“I gave it to Jake.”
“When?”
“A month ago.”
“Why?”
“He said he needed office storage.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
My father had kept everything.
Tax returns.
Copies of Social Security cards.
Old bank statements.
Childhood medical records.
Every piece of information necessary to become someone else on paper.
“Mom.”
“I forgot those papers were in there.”
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t.
But I couldn’t punish her for being manipulated by the same person who had manipulated all of us.
“Lock your doors.”
“Ryan—”
“Call the police if Jake comes back.”
“He’s my son.”
“And I’m your son too.”
Silence.
I looked at Emily.
“And right now, your other son is hurting my wife and my children.”
Mom began crying harder.
“I don’t know how everything got this bad.”
I did.
One rescue at a time.
One excuse at a time.
One consequence delayed until another appeared.
“I do,” I said.
Then I hung up.
Emily looked at me.
“That was harsh.”
“I know.”
“But necessary.”
I nodded.
For several seconds we sat silently.
Then she asked, “Do you want to go to your mother?”
“Yes.”
“You should.”
I looked at her.
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I won’t be alone.”
David stood in the doorway.
Neither of us had heard him approach.
Carol was behind him.
“I’ll stay,” Carol said.
I hesitated.
Emily looked at me.
“Go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I picked up my keys.
Then stopped.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to find Jake.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to make sure my mom is safe.”
“I know.”
It was such a simple exchange.
But something about it mattered.
For the first time that night, I was telling her exactly where I was going.
And she believed me.
David came with me.
On the drive, he stayed quiet until we reached the highway.
Then he said, “Your mother will try to save him.”
“I know.”
“So will you.”
I tightened my jaw.
“Not anymore.”
David looked out the window.
“That’s easy to say when you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
He glanced at me.
I continued.
“I’m done.”
“Different thing.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“When Carol left me years ago, I kept thinking my intentions mattered.”
I looked at him.
“They didn’t,” he said. “Not as much as I wanted them to.”
He tapped the dashboard.
“I told myself I was helping my business partner. Saving employees. Protecting my family.”
“What were you really doing?”
“Avoiding embarrassment.”
That surprised me.
He smiled sadly.
“I didn’t want my wife to know I had made a terrible business decision.”
I thought about Jake.
“I didn’t want Emily to know I had spent our savings.”
“Why?”
“Because she warned me not to give him money again.”
“And?”
“She was right.”
David nodded.
“There it is.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
The hardest truth wasn’t the money.
It was that Emily had seen the danger before I had.
And I had ignored her because admitting she was right meant admitting I had failed.
When we reached Mom’s street, a police car was parked outside.
I hit the brakes.
Mom stood on the porch wrapped in a robe.
An officer was beside her.
I jumped out.
“Mom!”
She rushed toward me.
“He was here.”
“Jake?”
She nodded.
“After we spoke?”
“Five minutes later.”
My pulse raced.
“What happened?”
“He tried the back door.”
David looked around.
“Where is he now?”
“The officer said he ran through the yard.”
I turned to the policeman.
“Did you see him?”
“Another unit is searching.”
Mom grabbed my arm.
“He looked terrible.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was crying.”
That didn’t soften me.
Not tonight.
“He kept saying he just needed one thing.”
“What thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he get inside?”
“No.”
I looked toward the house.
“Can we check?”
The officer nodded.
Inside, Mom’s kitchen looked normal.
But the computer room didn’t.
Papers were scattered across the desk.
“Was this like this before?” I asked.
Mom shook her head.
“No.”
I stared at her.
“You said he didn’t get inside.”
“He didn’t tonight.”
“Then when did this happen?”
She covered her mouth.
“When he was here earlier.”
I searched the desk.
Printer tray empty.
Trash can full of discarded pages.
David bent down.
“Ryan.”
He handed me a sheet.
It was a fake employment letter.
My company name at the top.
My signature at the bottom.
Jake had listed himself as an employee earning $118,000 a year.
Another page showed a lease application.
Another showed a bank statement with altered numbers.
Another showed something different.
A birth certificate request.
For Noah.
I frowned.
“Why would he need Noah’s birth certificate?”
Mom stared.
David said quietly, “Identity.”
My stomach turned.
“No.”
I called Lauren.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Third time.
Voicemail.
I sent a text.
Call me now. It’s about Noah.
A minute later she called.
“What?”
“Is Noah with you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
There was silence.
Then I heard movement.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Lauren, look at him.”
“I’m walking into his room.”
A door opened.
Then she exhaled.
“He’s asleep.”
“Good.”
“Ryan, what happened?”
I told her about the birth certificate request.
She went quiet.
“He asked me for a copy last week.”
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“Why did he want it?”
“He claimed he needed it for insurance.”
“Don’t give him anything.”
“I won’t.”
“Lock your doors.”
“They’re locked.”
“Call police if he appears.”
“Ryan.”
“What?”
Her voice became shaky.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you.”
I closed my eyes.
Apparently tonight had no bottom.
“What?”
“When Jake came to my apartment earlier, he kept saying Noah belonged with him.”
My skin went cold.
“He said I had poisoned Noah against him.”
“What else?”
“He said he was going to make things right.”
I looked at David.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Lauren whispered, “Someone’s knocking.”
My entire body stiffened.
“Do not open that door.”
She stopped breathing.
Another knock came through the phone.
Then a man’s voice.
Muffled.
But I recognized it.
“Lauren.”
Jake.
She whispered, “Oh my God.”
I turned toward the officer.
“He’s at her apartment.”
“Address?”
I gave it.
The officer radioed dispatch.
I spoke into the phone.
“Lauren, go into Noah’s room and lock the door.”
“Ryan—”
“Do it.”
I heard her running.
Jake knocked harder.
“Lauren!”
Then his voice changed.
“Please!”
She entered the bedroom.
A lock clicked.
Noah woke.
“Mom?”
“It’s okay, baby.”
Jake pounded the apartment door.
“Lauren, I just want to see my son!”
Noah began crying.
I felt helpless.
The officer said units were on the way.
Then the pounding stopped.
Silence.
Lauren whispered, “Did he leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ryan?”
“Stay where you are.”
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Then glass shattered.
Lauren screamed.
Noah screamed.
I shouted into the phone.
“Get away from the door!”
Another crash.
Then Jake’s voice, much closer.
May you like
“Lauren!”
The line went dead.
