Chapter 4 - Fire in B-19
The first flames appeared beneath the steel door.
Daniel grabbed Natalie.
“Back.”
Smoke poured into the unit.
The emergency exit was sixty feet down the corridor.
Natalie could barely run because of her ribs.
Daniel wrapped one arm around her waist and dragged her through the smoke.
Behind them, Unit B-19 exploded into flame.
They made it outside seconds before sprinklers activated.
A black SUV disappeared through the security gate.
Daniel memorized the plate.
Or tried to.
The rear plate had been covered.
By the time firefighters extinguished the blaze, most of Richard’s stored records were destroyed.
But the ledger survived because Daniel had carried it out.
So did the steel case.
Inside was a hard drive.
And a photograph.
Richard.
Margaret.
Jonathan Vale.
The three of them stood beside a man Daniel did not recognize.
Written on the back:
CHARLES WYNN – DO NOT TRUST HIM.
Natalie knew the name.
Charles Wynn had been the foundation’s former chief auditor.
He vanished from public life shortly after Richard died.
They found him living under another name in Vermont.
Detective Brooks wanted to contact him officially.
Natalie disagreed.
“If Margaret knows the police are looking, Wynn could disappear again.”
Brooks studied her.
“You say that like you think Margaret controls the police.”
“No.”
Natalie glanced at Daniel.
“I think she controls people who control other people.”
Daniel spent that evening examining the hard drive.
Most files were encrypted.
One folder opened.
It contained audio recordings.
The first was dated eleven days before Richard’s death.
Richard’s voice filled the hotel room.
“If you move another dollar, Margaret, I go to the board.”
Then Margaret.
“You go to the board and you destroy your own son.”
“How?”
“You think Daniel knows where the money came from?”
Pause.
“You used his signature?”
“He signed what Jonathan placed in front of him.”
Daniel stopped the recording.
His hands shook.
Natalie stared at him.
Daniel remembered.
Four years earlier, during a merger, Jonathan had brought him dozens of corporate approvals.
Daniel signed them without reading every page.
He trusted him.
Some of those signatures may have authorized shell-company transfers.
Richard had discovered it.
Margaret had used Daniel without his knowledge.
The recording continued.
Richard said:
“You will return the money.”
Margaret laughed softly.
“This family exists because I protected it.”
“You robbed it.”
“I built you.”
“You’re finished.”
Then Jonathan’s voice.
“Richard, calm down.”
Richard answered:
“If anything happens to me, everything goes to Natalie.”
Daniel froze.
Natalie looked equally stunned.
The recording ended.
“What did he mean?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know.”
That night, an attorney from Boston called Daniel.
His name was Samuel Price.
He had represented Richard privately.
“I have been instructed to contact Natalie Reeves if certain evidence ever resurfaced.”
Daniel put the phone on speaker.
“What evidence?”
“The ledger.”
Natalie stared at the phone.
Price continued.
“Richard Mercer executed a second trust document six days before his death.”
Daniel felt his stomach drop.
“What trust?”
“The controlling trust for Mercer House, Mercer Strategic Holdings, and thirty-one percent of the voting shares in the family company.”
“Who inherited them?”
Price paused.
“Natalie.”
Daniel looked at her.
Natalie went pale.
“That’s impossible.”
“It was never probated,” Price said.
“Why?”
“Because the original disappeared from my office the morning Richard died.”
Daniel whispered:
“Jonathan.”
Price did not answer.
Then someone knocked at his door.
Price said, “Excuse me.”
The phone shifted.
Daniel heard footsteps.
A door opening.
Then Price said:
“What are you doing here?”
The line went dead.
They called back.
No answer.
Twenty minutes later, Boston police found Samuel Price’s office empty.
His desk overturned.
His computer gone.
May you like
And written across the wall in red marker were five words.
STOP LOOKING FOR DEAD MEN.
