Chapter 8
I didn’t take the folder immediately.
I looked at my mother.
“Why was it in my house?”
She stared at Emily.
“Not here.”
Rebecca stepped forward.
“Emily stays with me.”
Mom nodded.
I took her into my office and closed the door.
She sat in the chair across from my desk.
For most of my life, Evelyn Mercer had been the strongest person I knew.
She built half our family company after my father had his first heart attack.
She negotiated deals while raising two sons.
She never cried in public.
Now she looked terrified.
I placed the blue folder between us.
“Start talking.”
Mom pressed her palms together.
“A week before Sarah died, she came to me.”
“Why?”
“She had questions about Mark’s expenses.”
“Did she show you proof?”
“Yes.”
My jaw tightened.
“And what did you do?”
“I told her I would handle it.”
“You didn’t.”
“I confronted Mark.”
I stared.
“He denied everything.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he begged me.”
I stood.
“Mom.”
“He said he had gambling debts.”
My stomach turned.
“He said the vendor payments were temporary.”
“Eight million dollars is temporary?”
“I didn’t know it was that much.”
I paced.
“What about Vanessa?”
Mom looked down.
“I knew there was a woman.”
“You knew.”
“I didn’t know it was Vanessa at first.”
“When did you find out?”
“The night before Sarah died.”
I stopped.
The room became silent.
“How?”
“Mark came to my house drunk.”
Mom’s voice cracked.
“He said Sarah was going to ruin everything.”
My skin prickled.
“What exactly did he say?”
“He said she had proof of the money and proof of the affair.”
“Did he threaten her?”
Mom closed her eyes.
“He said, ‘If she keeps pushing, she’s going to get hurt.’”
I slammed my hand onto the desk.
“Jesus Christ!”
Mom flinched.
“You heard him say that and you did nothing?”
“I called him the next morning.”
“Sarah died that night!”
“I know.”
“You could have warned her.”
“I know.”
“You could have warned me.”
“I know!”
She finally shouted.
Tears ran down her face.
“I know, Daniel.”
I turned away.
I couldn’t look at her.
Behind me, she said, “After the crash, I convinced myself it was coincidence.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
The honesty stopped me.
She continued.
“Then Mark brought me this folder.”
I turned around.
“When?”
“Two days after the funeral.”
My throat tightened.
“He had it?”
“He said he found it in Sarah’s office.”
“And you kept it?”
“He told me the documents would destroy the company.”
“So you protected the company.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I protected my son.”
I pointed toward the hallway.
“You had two sons.”
Her face folded.
I continued.
“And one of them lost his wife.”
“I know.”
“One of them raised a baby alone.”
“I know.”
“One of them married the woman who may have helped betray his dead wife because his own mother kept quiet!”
She sobbed.
I had never spoken to her that way.
I didn’t care.
“What happened this week?”
Mom wiped her face.
“Mark called me.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What did he say?”
“He said Vanessa had made a mistake and you were digging into old things.”
“And?”
“He told me to destroy the folder.”
I stared.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why now?”
She looked toward the office door.
“Because I saw Emily.”
My anger paused.
“At the board meeting?”
“No.”
“Then when?”
“Three days ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“You were here.”
She nodded.
Emily had been right.
“Mark asked me to come.”
“What were they doing?”
“Searching.”
“For the necklace?”
“Yes.”
I sat down slowly.
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I asked what was happening. Mark said Sarah had hidden company records inside the necklace.”
“The chip.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see Vanessa hurt Emily?”
Mom’s face twisted.
“No.”
I believed that part.
“If I had, I swear—”
“Don’t swear anything to me.”
She nodded.
“That’s fair.”
I opened the blue folder.
Inside were printed bank transfers.
Vendor contracts.
Handwritten notes in Sarah’s writing.
One page had three names circled.
MARK.
VANESSA.
GRAHAM AUTO.
I pointed.
“What is Graham Auto?”
Mom shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
I photographed the page and sent it to Detective Ruiz.
She called within five minutes.
“We’re looking at it.”
I asked Mom one final question.
“Where is Mark now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“Yes.”
I wanted to believe her.
I wasn’t ready.
When Mom left the office, Emily was standing in the hallway.
Rebecca was behind her.
Emily looked at Grandma.
Mom crouched several feet away.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
Emily didn’t move.
Mom’s face broke.
She did not approach.
She did not ask for a hug.
She simply said, “I’m sorry I didn’t keep you safe.”
Emily looked at me.
I let her decide.
After several seconds, she whispered, “Okay.”
Not forgiveness.
Not trust.
Just acknowledgment.
Mom stood and left.
That night Detective Ruiz called.
They had found Graham Auto.
It had closed two years earlier.
The former owner, Curtis Graham, was still alive.
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And according to old service records, Sarah’s car had been inside his shop forty-eight hours before she died.
The work order had been authorized by Mark.
