Chapter 6
I put Detective Alvarez on speaker.
Nobody in the lobby moved.
She repeated herself.
“The file contains three dates. One from last month, today’s date, and tomorrow.”
Mark’s face was unreadable.
“What happened on the first date?”
The detective asked him, “Were you involved in any unusual incident on August seventeenth?”
Mark stared into space.
Then my mother gasped.
“The brakes.”
I turned.
“What brakes?”
Mark looked at her.
Mom answered.
“His truck.”
My stomach dropped.
Mark rubbed his forehead.
“I was driving to Raleigh.”
“What happened?”
“The brake pedal went soft.”
Mom said, “He almost hit a barrier.”
Mark tried to sound calm.
“The mechanic said a line was damaged.”
Detective Alvarez immediately asked, “Do you still have the vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“Do not touch it. We’re sending someone.”
My mouth went dry.
“What was supposed to happen today?”
“We don’t know.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We don’t know that either.”
Mark looked at me.
His eyes sharpened.
“The honeymoon.”
I froze.
We were supposed to fly to St. Lucia tomorrow morning.
Mom whispered, “Oh my God.”
Detective Alvarez said, “Mr. Henderson, were you going with them?”
“No.”
“What did you have scheduled?”
Mark thought.
“Nothing.”
Then his expression changed.
“My lake house.”
“What about it?”
“I was going there tomorrow night.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Who knew?”
Mark looked at me.
I suddenly remembered one of David’s questions.
What does Mark do after the wedding?
I had told him.
I had laughed about how Mark planned to recover from wedding expenses by hiding at the lake for two days.
I covered my mouth.
“I told David.”
Mark said nothing.
I started crying.
“I told him.”
He reached for me.
“You didn’t know.”
“He asked me.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I gave him everything.”
“No.”
His voice became firm.
“David manipulated you. That is not the same thing.”
Detective Alvarez spoke.
“Ms. Mercer, listen to him.”
I wiped my face.
She continued.
“We do not yet know what this document means. It could be planning, fantasy, intimidation, financial notes, or something unrelated. Do not assume a crime was scheduled.”
“But you think it might have been.”
Silence.
“That’s why I need all of you to stay somewhere secure tonight.”
The police searched Mark’s truck.
Then the hotel parking lot.
Then the lake house.
They found nothing at the hotel.
At the lake house, they found a broken rear window.
That was enough.
Mark and Mom were moved to another hotel under different names.
Rebecca and Madison went with police to give formal statements.
I should have gone too.
Instead, I sat in the empty bridal suite staring at my wedding bouquet.
The flowers had begun to wilt.
Lena stayed with me.
“You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are very clearly not fine.”
She handed me half a sandwich.
I took two bites because arguing required more energy.
My phone had become unusable.
Messages.
Videos.
People asking questions.
People offering sympathy.
People who had barely spoken to me since high school wanting details.
I turned it off.
Then there was a knock.
Lena opened the door.
Ethan stood there.
My heart jumped.
He looked at me.
“I heard about the insurance.”
I stood.
“How?”
“Mark called my dad.”
Of course he did.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Good answer.”
I almost smiled.
Lena quietly left the room.
Ethan looked at the packed bags near the wall.
“Police want you somewhere else.”
“I know.”
“You’re still here.”
“I needed ten minutes.”
“You’ve had forty.”
I looked at the clock.
He was right.
He crossed the room.
“You can be angry at me later.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You can distrust me later.”
I flinched.
He regretted it.
“But right now, you are not staying alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
“Lena is five-foot-three.”
“She took kickboxing.”
“This is not funny.”
“I know.”
Our eyes met.
Then something inside me broke again.
“I thought you left.”
His expression softened.
“I left the wedding.”
“You said you needed time.”
“I do.”
“But you came back.”
“Because somebody may be trying to hurt your family.”
He swallowed.
“And because no matter what happens between us, I’m not going to hear that you’re scared and pretend I don’t care.”
I started crying.
He held out his arms.
He did not step forward.
He waited.
I went to him.
He hugged me.
It felt like home.
And that scared me too.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“That sounds arrogant.”
“I’m trying not to cry.”
I laughed into his shirt.
For the first time that day, the laughter didn’t hurt.
We left the hotel through a service entrance.
Mark had arranged rooms at a smaller hotel twenty minutes away.
No social media.
No location sharing.
No names at the front desk.
When we arrived, Mom hugged Ethan.
Mark shook his hand.
There was tension.
But no anger.
We ordered pizza.
Nobody wanted room service.
It was too formal.
Too much like the wedding we were supposed to be having.
At 9:30 p.m., Detective Alvarez arrived.
Her expression told me the news was bad.
Mark stood.
“What did you find?”
She sat at the small table.
“The brake line on your truck was deliberately cut.”
Mom grabbed his hand.
Alvarez continued.
“We also found fingerprints at the lake house.”
“David’s?”
“Not his.”
I frowned.
“Whose?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Mark asked, “What about the files?”
“There are emails.”
My stomach tightened.
“Between David and who?”
“A man named Calvin Rusk.”
Rebecca had mentioned a lender.
“Is he one of the people David owes?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Roughly three hundred and seventy thousand dollars.”
Everyone went silent.
Ethan muttered, “That’s more than two hundred.”
Alvarez nodded.
“David understated it.”
Of course he did.
“What do the emails say?” I asked.
She hesitated.
“David promised Mr. Rusk repayment from an insurance settlement.”
Mom whispered, “Mark’s?”
“We don’t know.”
“Whose?”
“The emails never identify the insured person by name.”
I felt cold.
“But David sent him Mark’s company information.”
“Yes.”
“And tried to change Mark’s beneficiary.”
“Yes.”
“What does tomorrow mean?”
“We’re still investigating.”
Mark said, “My lake house.”
“Possibly.”
Alvarez looked at me.
“Ms. Mercer, there’s something else.”
I hated that sentence.
There was always something else.
“What?”
“David made three large payments over the last two months.”
“To Calvin?”
“No.”
“To who?”
“A private investigator.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“We spoke to him.”
She pulled out her notebook.
“David hired him to follow you.”
My mouth fell open.
“Me?”
“You and Mr. Henderson.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
I looked at Ethan.
He looked furious.
“What did he want?” Mark asked.
“Schedules. Habits. Vehicles. Routes.”
Mom stood abruptly.
“He was planning this.”
Alvarez held up a hand.
“We are not finished.”
Her expression became even more serious.
“The investigator ended the contract after David asked him to do something illegal.”
My pulse raced.
“What?”
“He asked for access to medical records.”
“Whose?”
The detective looked at me.
“Yours.”
I felt the room spin.
Ethan sat beside me.
“Why would he want Claire’s medical records?”
Alvarez closed her notebook.
“We asked David.”
“And?”
“He requested an attorney.”
Mark swore under his breath.
I thought about every conversation I had with David.
He had asked about my childhood.
My allergies.
Whether I still had migraines.
Whether I had ever been hospitalized.
I thought he was trying to learn about the daughter he missed.
Now everything had another meaning.
“I told him I’m allergic to shellfish.”
Everyone looked at me.
Ethan’s face changed.
“What?”
“I told him.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
Mark stood.
“Detective.”
Alvarez was already writing.
I continued.
“He asked why I didn’t want the seafood option for the rehearsal dinner.”
Ethan went pale.
“Our rehearsal dinner had lobster.”
I nodded.
“We changed the menu.”
Lena, who had been sitting silently near the window, whispered, “David was at the tasting.”
My heart slammed.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“You invited him.”
I remembered.
Six weeks earlier.
David had come to the caterer’s tasting.
He had joked that fathers deserved free food.
I had been thrilled.
Finally.
A father doing wedding things with me.
The detective stood.
“I need the caterer’s information.”
Ethan pulled out his phone.
He had it saved.
Alvarez called immediately.
The caterer answered.
She asked about the rehearsal dinner.
Then her expression changed.
“What do you mean there was a special request?”
Everyone froze.
She listened.
“When was that changed?”
Silence.
“Who requested it?”
Her eyes moved to me.
“Do you still have the email?”
She ended the call.
Nobody spoke.
“What?” I asked.
Alvarez looked at Ethan.
Then at me.
“Three weeks ago, someone emailed the caterer pretending to be you.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did they ask?”
“They requested a shellfish-based appetizer be placed at the bride’s table.”
Ethan stood.
“Jesus Christ.”
I stared at the detective.
“But that didn’t happen.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“The caterer called your wedding planner because the request contradicted your allergy form.”
I could barely breathe.
“So last night…”
“You may have been the target.”
Mark’s face went white.
“But the insurance policy was mine.”
Detective Alvarez nodded.
“That is why none of this fits yet.”
My phone rang on the table.
Unknown number.
We all stared at it.
Alvarez said, “Don’t answer.”
It stopped.
Then a text appeared.
A photograph.
My hands went cold.
It showed Ethan and me leaving the first hotel through the service entrance.
Taken less than two hours earlier.
Below it were six words.
DAVID ISN’T THE ONE YOU SHOULD FEAR.
Mom gasped.
Ethan stepped toward the window.
Detective Alvarez shouted, “Stay away from the glass.”
Then another message arrived.
THIS STARTED BEFORE DAVID CAME BACK.
A third.
ASK MARK ABOUT SARAH.
I looked at Mark.
Every trace of color disappeared from his face.
Mom turned toward him slowly.
“Who is Sarah?”
Mark didn’t answer.
I stood.
“Mark.”
His eyes closed.
“Who is Sarah?”
When he finally looked at me, I saw something I had never seen before.
Shame.
May you like
His voice was barely audible.
“My daughter.”
