Chapter 12 - THE NIGHT RICHARD WHITMORE DIED
Richard did not collapse immediately.
That was the first surprise.
He confronted Mercer calmly.
He placed financial statements on the desk.
“You’ve been stealing from me.”
Mercer smiled.
“No.”
“From the foundation.”
“No.”
“From my wife.”
Mercer stopped smiling.
Dr. Pierce remained near the door.
Richard continued.
“Eighteen million that Daniel can prove.”
“Daniel is confused.”
“He’s an accountant.”
“They’re frequently confused.”
Even dying history could not make Mercer less arrogant.
Richard mentioned the hidden accounts.
Mercer mentioned the family.
Not as a threat.
As leverage.
“Imagine what happens if Evelyn learns about Celeste.”
Richard froze.
“What about her?”
Mercer placed an envelope down.
The recording angle did not show the contents.
Richard’s face changed.
Whatever was inside frightened him.
Mercer said:
“Your daughter has problems.”
“Then help her.”
“I have.”
“By spying on her?”
“By protecting all of you.”
Richard laughed.
“You don’t protect people, Graham.”
“You collect them.”
That sentence described everything.
Then Pierce poured Richard a drink.
My stomach tightened.
Richard did not notice.
He drank.
Ten minutes later, he touched his chest.
Mercer watched.
Did nothing.
Richard looked at Pierce.
“What did you…”
The recording distorted.
Richard collapsed.
Evelyn screamed beside me as though it were happening again.
Pierce checked his pulse.
Then said:
“It’s done.”
Mercer knelt beside Richard.
He removed documents from the desk.
Then he looked directly toward the camera.
Not accidentally.
He knew.
He walked closer.
The screen went black.
Nobody spoke for almost a minute.
Ortiz finally said:
“That’s enough.”
For what?
Maybe murder charges.
Maybe conspiracy.
Maybe reopening old cases.
Certainly enough to destroy Mercer’s defense.
But Mercer remained missing.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Mercer’s voice.
“Ethan.”
Everyone froze.
Ortiz signaled for silence.
Ethan put the call on speaker.
“Where are you?”
Mercer laughed softly.
“Still impatient.”
“You killed my father.”
“Be careful with verbs.”
“We watched you.”
Silence.
Mercer knew immediately.
“You found the nursery.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Mercer continued.
“Then I suppose there’s no reason to continue pretending.”
“Where are you?”
“Ask your wife.”
I felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
Mercer addressed me.
“Claire.”
I said nothing.
“You found Daniel’s cabin.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know he was not alone when he died.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What?”
“There was another passenger.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Look at the original police report.”
I had.
Hundreds of times.
One driver.
One victim.
Daniel Hart.
Mercer chuckled.
“You looked at the public report.”
The line disconnected.
Ortiz immediately requested archived files.
Two hours later, she found a sealed supplemental report.
A witness had seen two men near my father’s wrecked car.
One escaped before police arrived.
The witness description was vague.
Male.
Mid-thirties.
Dark hair.
Injured left hand.
Ethan stared at the date.
Then went pale.
“What?”
I asked.
He said nothing.
“Ethan.”
He held out his left hand.
A thin scar crossed his palm.
My body went cold.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Where were you that night?”
He looked at me.
May you like
Then whispered:
“I don’t remember.”
