Chapter 12: The Dead Man's Identity
Detective Harris stared at the photograph for several seconds.
“Who is David Mercer?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know. You told me he was the man originally identified after Dad's accident.””
“Correct.””
“Then why would Margaret send me his hospital bracelet?””
Harris enlarged the image.
There was a second line beneath the name.
A patient identification number.
He immediately called the hospital.
“Check the original records for David Mercer. October seventeenth through October twentieth. I need every document, including the transfer and discharge records.””
I watched him work.
Something wasn't right.
Margaret had claimed she helped my father recover.
She had shown us photographs.
She had sent messages.
But now she was trying to access the twins' records using stolen identification.
And she had sent me a photograph of the man whose identity had supposedly been used to fake my father's death.
“Detective, I think we need to find her before Richard does.””
Harris nodded.
“We're already tracking her.””
A few minutes later, his phone rang.
He listened carefully.
Then his expression changed.
“Repeat that.””
The voice on the other end spoke again.
Harris slowly lowered the phone.
“What happened?”” I asked.
“David Mercer wasn't just an unidentified patient.””
“Who was he?””
“He was Richard Hale's former business partner.””
I stared at him.
“Why would Richard use his identity?””
“Because David disappeared three years ago.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Was he murdered?””
“We don't know.””
Then Harris received another message.
He read it and looked directly at me.
“Your mother has been located.””
“Where?””
“An abandoned property outside Dayton.””
“Is she alone?””
“No.””
He paused.
“Richard is there.””
I felt my heart pounding.
“Then arrest them!””
“We're sending a team.””
I grabbed my coat.
“I'm coming.””
“No, Emily.””
“My father is missing. My mother is involved. Richard nearly killed my brothers. I am not sitting in another hospital waiting room while everyone else decides what happens to my family.””
Harris studied me.
Then he shook his head.
“You will stay with the officers. You will not approach anyone. Is that understood?””
I nodded.
We drove toward Dayton.
The property was an old medical facility that had been closed for years.
Its windows were boarded.
A faded sign hung above the entrance.
*RIVERSIDE RECOVERY CENTER.*
I recognized the name from the documents in my father's basement.
“What is this place?”” I asked.
Harris looked at his notes.
“Former private rehabilitation facility. It closed after a financial investigation.””
“Was my father treated here?””
“We're checking.””
Two officers approached the entrance.
The door was unlocked.
Inside, the hallway smelled of dust and disinfectant.
A wheelchair stood beside the reception desk.
Several patient files had been scattered across the floor.
Then we heard a voice.
“Please! Somebody help me!””
I recognized it immediately.
My mother's voice.
We rushed toward the sound.
She was sitting in a locked examination room.
Her wrists were tied with plastic restraints.
Her hair was disheveled, and one side of her face was bruised.
“Emily!””
I rushed toward her.
“Mom!””
An officer unlocked the door.
I knelt beside her.
“What happened?””
She grabbed my arms.
“Richard knows everything. He knows you found the trust documents.””
“Where is he?””
“He went downstairs.””
Harris immediately radioed the other officers.
“Suspect may be in the lower level. Proceed carefully.””
My mother started crying.
“Emily, you have to get out of here.””
“Not without you.””
“He knows about the recording.””
“What recording?””
“The one from the hospital.””
I stared at her.
“Dad's recording?””
She shook her head.
“No. David's.””
I frowned.
“Who is David?””
My mother looked at me.
Then she said something I never expected.
“David Mercer was the man who died in your father's place.””
I felt my blood turn cold.
“But you said Dad survived.””
“He did.””
“Then where is David now?””
My mother closed her eyes.
“He's downstairs.””
A sudden crash came from the lower corridor.
Harris raised his weapon.
“Police! Show yourself!””
A man's voice answered.
“She's lying!””
I recognized it.
Richard.
He appeared at the end of the corridor.
His expensive coat was dirty.
His face was red with anger.
He held a small metal case in one hand.
“Richard Hale!”” Harris shouted.
“Put the case down!””
Richard laughed.
“You have no idea what that contains.””
“Put it down!””
Richard looked at me.
“Emily, tell them to stop.””
I stared at him.
“You tried to kill my brothers.””
“I was trying to protect what belonged to me.””
“Nothing belongs to you.””
He smiled coldly.
“Your father stole everything from me.””
“He built that trust for his children.””
“Exactly. And you have no idea how much money is involved.””
He opened the metal case.
Inside were several documents and a small recording device.
“Your father kept copies of everything. Including the original hospital transfer.””
Harris stepped forward.
“Put the case on the floor.””
Richard shook his head.
“Ask your mother what she did with David Mercer.””
I turned toward her.
“Mom?””
She was trembling.
Richard continued.
“Your mother knows exactly who was in that hospital bed. She knows why the wrong man was identified. And she knows what happened to the real David.””
My mother began crying.
“Stop it, Richard.””
He laughed.
“You wanted the money as much as I did.””
“That's not true!””
“You signed the policies. You signed the guardianship papers. You helped me shut down the furnace.””
I stared at her.
“Mom?””
She looked at me.
“I never wanted the babies to die.””
“But you knew they were in danger.””
She began sobbing.
“I thought Richard would come back before anything happened.””
I stepped away.
Richard smiled.
“See? Your mother isn't innocent.””
Then Harris moved.
“Drop the case!””
Richard suddenly threw it toward the wall.
The metal case hit the floor.
Documents scattered everywhere.
An officer rushed forward and tackled him.
Richard fought violently, shouting that the trust belonged to him.
Within seconds, he was handcuffed.
I barely looked at him.
I was staring at the open doorway behind him.
A man stood there.
He was thin, pale, and leaning heavily against a walking frame.
His hair was almost completely gray.
He looked at me.
Then he whispered:
“Emily?””
My heart stopped.
I knew that voice.
I knew those eyes.
I knew the small scar above his eyebrow.
“Dad?””
He took one shaky step forward.
My father began crying.
“My little girl.””
I ran toward him.
He opened his arms.
For six months, I had believed he was dead.
For six months, my brothers had grown up without their father.
For six months, I had blamed myself for not protecting my family.
Now he was standing in front of me.
Alive.
I buried my face against his chest.
“Dad, you're alive.””
He kissed the top of my head.
“I tried to come home.””
Then he pulled away slightly.
His expression changed.
“Emily, where are Toby and the twins?””
“At the hospital. They're safe.””
He closed his eyes in relief.
Then he looked toward Richard, who was being dragged down the hallway.
“Thank God.””
I held his hand.
“It's over, Dad.””
He shook his head.
“No, sweetheart.””
He looked toward my mother.
Then toward the metal case on the floor.
“There's still one person who hasn't been arrested.””
I frowned.
“Who?””
My father leaned closer and whispered:
“The person who switched the hospital identities wasn't Richard.””
He paused.
“It was the doctor who signed my death certificate.””
Before I could respond, a police radio crackled.
An officer spoke urgently.
“Detective Harris, we have a problem. The doctor connected to the original case has just boarded a private plane.””
Harris turned sharply.
“Destination?””
The officer answered.
“Unknown. But the passenger manifest lists one additional name.””
My father closed his eyes.
I asked quietly, “Whose name?””
Harris looked at me.
May you like
Then he read the final line.
“Margaret Collins.””
