Chapter 9
I stepped away from Ethan.
Not because he had loved someone before me.
We had both dated other people.
That wasn’t the betrayal.
The betrayal was eleven years of marriage without ever hearing Rebecca’s name.
Daniel had never mentioned his sister.
Linda had never mentioned her.
Charlotte had never mentioned her.
It was as if an entire person had been erased.
“How did she die?”
Ethan’s voice was barely audible.
“Overdose.”
“Drugs?”
“Prescription medication.”
“Was she addicted?”
“No.”
“Then why did your father think Linda killed her?”
He looked at Detective Hale.
Hale was listening carefully.
Ethan continued.
“Rebecca discovered something.”
“What?”
“She worked for Dad.”
“At the secret company?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed from disbelief.
Everyone had been keeping pieces of this story from me.
“What did she discover?”
“I didn’t know at first.”
Ethan leaned against the counter.
“Rebecca and I had been together almost three years. We planned to get married.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Before I met you.”
“I know that.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Then stop protecting me with lies.”
He winced.
“You’re right.”
“Tell me everything.”
So he did.
Thirteen years earlier, Rebecca began noticing irregular payments while helping Richard organize financial records.
She thought they were accounting errors.
Then she found signatures that looked like Richard’s but weren’t.
Transfers to companies she couldn’t identify.
Checks signed by Linda.
Linda had no authority to sign them.
“Why was your mother involved in Richard’s business?” I asked.
“She helped with bookkeeping sometimes.”
“Daniel said unofficially.”
“Exactly.”
Ethan continued.
Rebecca told him she thought Linda was stealing.
Ethan didn’t believe her.
That admission hurt him visibly.
“I told her she was being paranoid.”
“What happened?”
“She went to Dad.”
Richard believed her.
He started investigating.
Then Rebecca died.
“Where?”
“In her apartment.”
“Who found her?”
“Daniel.”
I closed my eyes.
No wonder Daniel carried this differently.
“Was there an investigation?”
“Yes. But the death was ruled accidental.”
“What prescription?”
“Pain medication.”
“Was it hers?”
“No.”
That made Hale sit straighter.
“Whose prescription?”
Ethan looked at him.
“My mother’s.”
The room became silent.
“Linda’s medication was found at the scene?”
“Yes.”
“What explanation did she give?”
“She said Rebecca had stolen pills from her bathroom.”
“Did Rebecca visit Linda?”
“All the time back then.”
Hale wrote quickly.
“Was Linda interviewed?”
“Yes.”
“And Richard?”
“He told police he thought someone had staged it.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. There wasn’t enough evidence.”
I looked at Ethan.
“And then Richard changed the trust.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He was scared.”
“Of Linda?”
“Yes.”
“He reduced your inheritance because he caught you with Rebecca?”
Ethan frowned.
“No. That was a lie.”
I thought about Linda’s call.
“Then why did she say that?”
“To make you doubt me.”
“She succeeded.”
His face fell.
I hated saying it.
But it was true.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just stop hiding things.”
“I will.”
I looked at Daniel’s call history on my phone.
“Did Daniel blame you for Rebecca’s death?”
“For a long time.”
“Because you didn’t believe her?”
“Yes.”
“How did you become friends again?”
“We already were friends. Losing Rebecca nearly destroyed both of us. Eventually, grief was stronger than anger.”
Rachel quietly asked, “Did my mother know?”
Ethan looked at her.
“About Rebecca?”
“About Linda stealing.”
“I don’t know.”
Detective Hale’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then stood.
“They located Daniel.”
“Where?” I asked.
“A motel outside New Haven.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s alive.”
Relief hit me.
Then Hale’s face tightened.
“But officers found blood in his room.”
Ethan stared at him.
“Whose?”
“We don’t know yet.”
They had found Daniel’s car.
His phone.
His wallet.
But Daniel himself had disappeared minutes before police arrived.
A motel employee said he had seen Daniel leaving through the back parking lot with a woman.
Description:
Late fifties.
Brown coat.
Dark hair.
Rachel immediately pulled up a photograph of Susan.
Hale looked at it.
“It could be her.”
Rachel started crying with relief.
“So she’s alive.”
“Possibly.”
“Why would she disappear with Daniel?”
That remained unanswered.
An hour later, forensic technicians accessed the flash drive.
Hale didn’t show us everything.
But he gave us enough.
Financial spreadsheets.
Scanned checks.
Insurance records.
Copies of emails.
Letters from Richard.
Several documents showed payments from Richard’s company to shell corporations.
One shell company was controlled by Linda.
Another was linked to someone named Thomas Mercer.
Ethan knew the name.
“Dad’s accountant.”
Hale nodded.
“Still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Greenwich, I think.”
The next document changed everything.
It was a letter Richard had written two days before his crash.
If anything happens to me, the reader was instructed to contact police and provide the records.
Richard wrote that he believed Linda Walsh and Thomas Mercer had been stealing company funds.
He also believed Rebecca Hart had discovered their scheme before her death.
Then came the sentence that made my hands shake.
LINDA HAS THREATENED ETHAN IF I GO TO THE AUTHORITIES.
Ethan read it twice.
“What threat?”
Nobody knew.
The final page was worse.
Richard said he planned to meet Susan at the bank.
He intended to move records into the safe-deposit box.
Then he wrote:
I HAVE CHANGED MY ESTATE PLAN TO PROTECT ETHAN'S FUTURE CHILDREN FROM LINDA'S CONTROL.
Noah.
Even years before Noah existed, Richard had structured things so Linda could never control everything.
I suddenly understood why Linda hated me.
Marriage hadn’t only changed Ethan emotionally.
It had created the possibility of children.
Children moved money beyond Linda’s reach.
Hale asked Ethan, “When you turned forty, did anyone contact you about the trust?”
“No.”
“Any attorney?”
“No.”
“Trustee?”
“No.”
“Bank?”
“No.”
“That suggests someone may have interfered.”
Charlotte had said Ethan was supposed to receive his share at forty.
Yet six weeks had passed.
Nothing.
Hale contacted the attorney named in Richard’s documents.
The man had retired years ago.
His old firm confirmed the trust still existed.
But administration had been transferred.
“To who?” Ethan asked.
Hale looked at the paper.
“Thomas Mercer.”
The accountant suspected of stealing with Linda.
Ethan laughed in disbelief.
“My father put Mercer in charge?”
“No,” Hale said. “According to this, the trustee was changed eight years ago.”
“By who?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
My phone buzzed.
Another anonymous message.
This time there was a photograph.
Noah.
Sitting at Megan’s kitchen table eating pancakes.
Taken from outside the window.
My scream brought everyone running.
I called Megan.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Ethan grabbed his keys.
Hale shouted for him to stop.
Police units were dispatched immediately.
We raced toward Megan’s house behind them.
The entire drive, I called.
No answer.
Noah’s tablet went straight to voicemail because it had no cellular line.
I prayed harder than I ever had.
When we reached the street, two patrol cars were already outside.
Megan stood on the porch.
Alive.
Crying.
I jumped from the car.
“Where’s Noah?”
She pointed inside.
“He’s okay.”
I ran.
Noah was sitting on the couch with an officer.
I grabbed him.
“Mommy?”
I kissed his forehead over and over.
“Did anyone come inside?”
“No.”
Megan followed us.
“My phone was in the laundry room. I’m sorry.”
I showed Hale the photograph.
The image had been taken less than twenty minutes earlier.
Someone had been standing in Megan’s backyard.
Watching my child.
Noah looked at the screen.
Then his face changed.
“I know who took that.”
Every adult froze.
“Who?” I asked.
He pointed at a blurry reflection in the window.
Most of the photographer’s body was hidden.
But part of a face showed in the glass.
Noah whispered, “That’s Grandma’s friend.”
Ethan crouched.
“What friend?”
“The man who comes when Grandpa’s picture is on Grandma’s desk.”
I frowned.
Noah continued.
“I saw him at Grandma’s house before.”
“When?”
“A lot.”
“What does he look like?”
Noah pointed at the reflection.
“The same.”
Hale enlarged it.
Ethan stared.
His face changed.
“I know him.”
“Who?”
May you like
Ethan looked at us.
“Thomas Mercer.”
