Chapter 4: The Woman Who Was Paid to Marry Me
“Your father didn't die believing Vanessa was a stranger. He knew her long before you met her.””
Rachel's words echoed in my head as I stared at the photograph.
My father stood outside a brick building, one hand resting on Vanessa's shoulder. She looked younger, perhaps twenty years old, with the same sharp eyes and perfectly controlled smile I had once mistaken for kindness.
The date written on the back was six months before my father's death.
“That can't be right,” I whispered.
Rachel steadied herself against the pew.
“Ethan, I wish I could tell you it was a mistake.””
“My father died before I ever met Vanessa.””
“I know.””
“Then how could they have known each other?””
Rachel looked toward the chapel doors through which Vanessa had disappeared.
“Because your father was investigating her family.””
Ryan stepped closer, his face pale.
“Wait. What family?””
Rachel hesitated.
“Vanessa's maiden name isn't Cole.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“What is it?””
“Mercer.””
The surname struck me immediately.
Mercer Legal.
The sign in the background of Nora's video.
The same name printed on the folder the mysterious man had handed Vanessa.
I felt the chapel closing in around me.
“Who was her father?””
“Daniel Mercer,” Rachel replied.
“He worked with your father for years. They were business partners before they became enemies.””
Ryan rubbed a hand over his mouth.
“Dad never mentioned anyone named Mercer.””
“He wouldn't have,” Rachel said.
“By the time you were old enough to ask questions, the partnership had ended. Your father believed Daniel had stolen money from the company.””
I shook my head.
“My father died of a heart attack.””
“Yes. But before he died, he left behind evidence of financial fraud. I found some of it after his funeral.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because the day I tried to investigate, I was run off the road.””
Her voice cracked.
“I spent six years believing that if I came home, someone would finish what they'd started.””
Nora stood beside her mother, clutching the sleeve of her coat.
“Mommy, is Vanessa a bad person?””
Rachel looked at her gently.
“I think Vanessa has made some terrible choices, sweetheart. But none of them are your fault.””
My daughter lowered her eyes.
I knelt beside her.
“Neither are mine,” I told her.
“You did the right thing by telling me.””
She threw her arms around my neck.
For a moment, I let myself hold her and breathe.
Then Ryan's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
“It's security.””
He answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice came through loudly enough for me to hear.
“Mr. Callahan, the woman who left the chapel has taken a black SUV from the parking area. She was accompanied by another man.””
Ryan looked at me.
“Did you get the license plate?””
“Yes, sir. But there's something else. She left a bag behind.””
“Where?””
“Near the bridal suite.””
Ryan ended the call.
“I'll get it.””
“No,” Rachel said sharply.
We both turned.
She had gone pale.
“If Vanessa left something behind, don't touch it until the police arrive.””
Ryan stared at her.
“Rachel, what do you know?””
She gripped her cane.
“Before I disappeared, I found a document describing a plan to gain control of Ethan's inheritance. It mentioned a marriage, a pregnancy, and a child.””
My blood turned cold.
“The fake baby was part of the plan?””
“I believe so.””
“But why would anyone need a fake pregnancy to get my money?””
Rachel looked at me with an expression I couldn't bear.
“Because your father changed his will shortly before he died.””
I remembered the lawyers who had handled the estate. I remembered signing papers after the funeral, barely able to focus on anything except the loss of my father and wife within the same year.
“What did he change?””
Rachel swallowed.
“He added a condition. If you remarried and had another child, certain family assets would be released from a trust.””
Ryan frowned.
“That doesn't make sense. Ethan owns his company.””
“Some of it,” Rachel replied.
“The largest property holdings and a substantial investment account are controlled by the trust. Your father wanted the money protected until specific conditions were met.””
I stared at her.
“So Vanessa was supposed to marry me, pretend to have my child, and then what?””
“Gain access to the trust. Possibly through forged documents, possibly through legal claims after the marriage.””
Ryan shook his head.
“That's insane. No lawyer would accept a fake pregnancy as proof of anything.””
“Not by itself,” Rachel said.
“But if someone fabricated medical records, arranged witnesses, and created documents showing that Ethan had agreed to certain financial changes, they could make the situation complicated enough to delay discovery.””
I thought of the appointments Vanessa had claimed to attend alone.
The printed ultrasound pictures.
The hospital bracelet she had shown me.
The way she had insisted that I not attend her last examination because she wanted the birth to be a surprise.
My stomach twisted.
“How much money are we talking about?””
Rachel looked away.
“Enough to make people dangerous.””
A uniformed officer entered the chapel with another officer behind him. Ryan had called the police as soon as the belly collapsed, and now the room was filling with questions and statements.
I explained what had happened. I showed them Nora's videos and the photograph Rachel had brought.
One officer asked Rachel to identify herself. She handed over her identification with shaking fingers.
The officer examined it, then looked up.
“Mrs. Callahan, your death was officially recorded six years ago.””
“I know.””
“We'll need you to come with us to clarify what happened.””
“I will.””
Before the officers could take us outside, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
*If you want your daughter to stay safe, stop asking questions about Daniel Mercer.*
A second message arrived before I could react.
It contained a photograph of Nora standing outside her school that morning.
My daughter was holding a pink backpack.
Someone had taken the picture from across the street.
I looked at Rachel.
She saw my screen and covered her mouth.
“Ethan,” she whispered, “they've found her again.””
Then my phone rang.
The caller's name appeared on the screen.
May you like
*Vanessa.*
And when I answered, she said, “If you want to know why your father chose me, ask Rachel what happened the night he died.””
