Chapter 8 - The Grave Without a Name
Charles and Patricia Mercer had buried an infant twenty-seven years before adopting Andrew.
The death certificate identified the child only as Baby Boy Mercer. According to the record, he lived for nine hours and died from respiratory failure.
The grave stood in the oldest section of St. Matthew’s Cemetery.
Lauren visited with Mara and a forensic genealogist named Dr. Samuel Price.
The small stone read:
Our beloved son.
No name.
No dates.
Only the Mercer family crest.
“Why omit the dates?” Lauren asked.
Samuel photographed the marker.
“Sometimes grief affects memorial choices. Sometimes missing details prevent questions.”
The cemetery office provided the burial ledger.
Baby Boy Mercer had been buried on October 14.
Andrew’s original birth certificate listed October 13 as his birth date.
One day earlier.
According to the adoption record, Patricia took custody of Andrew six months later.
Samuel reviewed the documents.
“There are two possibilities,” he said. “The dates are coincidental, or the baby buried here and the child later called Andrew Mercer are connected.”
Mara requested an exhumation order.
The Mercer attorneys opposed it within two hours.
That response was faster than Lauren expected.
It meant someone was monitoring the investigation.
Andrew remained missing. His bank cards had not been used. Cameras near the freight station showed him entering a black van voluntarily.
The van belonged to the Mercer Legacy Foundation.
Patricia’s blood had still not been found anywhere. Only Evelyn’s blood appeared in the abandoned car.
Late that afternoon, Lauren received a call through the protected number.
A woman spoke.
“Do not open the grave.”
Lauren recognized the voice from nowhere, yet somehow knew who it was.
“Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
“Where is Andrew?”
“Alive.”
“Where is Patricia?”
“Alive for now.”
“Did you set the fire?”
“No.”
“Did you leave the lunch box?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas wanted you to know the sequence.”
“What sequence?”
“First the debt. Then the policies. Then the grave.”
Lauren put the call on speaker while Mara traced it.
“Who is buried there?”
“A child Patricia could not use.”
Lauren closed her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“Charles Mercer wanted a son. Patricia wanted an heir she could control. Their biological child was born sick. Charles refused to accept weakness.”
“Did they kill him?”
“I don’t know. I was seventeen.”
“You gave birth to Andrew?”
Evelyn began to cry.
“I gave birth to a boy.”
“Was he Andrew?”
“I don’t know.”
Lauren looked at Mara.
“How can you not know?”
“The hospital told me my baby died. Patricia came to my room and said she could help with the funeral. Six months later, I saw her in a newspaper photograph holding Andrew.”
“You believed he was your son.”
“I knew his eyes.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I did. Charles sent men to my house. They arrested my brother for drugs he had never seen. They said next time it would be my mother.”
“Did Thomas find you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Everything.”
“Why did you disappear?”
“Because Thomas was dying, and Patricia knew he had found me.”
Lauren gripped the phone.
“What is North Vale?”
Evelyn stopped crying.
“A machine.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It takes what powerful people are afraid to do themselves and turns it into paperwork. A threat becomes a consulting fee. A stolen child becomes an adoption expense. A death becomes an insurance event.”
“Is Andrew part of it?”
“He was raised to become part of it.”
“Does he know?”
“Not all of it.”
“Where is he?”
“With Graham.”
“Graham Vale?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the debt failed.”
Lauren remembered the coded message.
The guarantor becomes collectible.
“What happens to Andrew if the debt fails?”
“He pays another way.”
“With his life?”
Evelyn did not answer.
Mara wrote that the trace had located the call near St. Matthew’s Cemetery.
Lauren looked across the rows of stones.
“Are you here?”
“Do not turn around.”
Every muscle in Lauren’s body tightened.
“Why?”
“Because the man watching you is not with the police.”
Mara immediately scanned the cemetery.
A groundskeeper stood near a maintenance shed.
An elderly couple walked along a distant path.
A man in a gray coat sat on a bench beneath an oak tree.
Evelyn whispered, “Walk toward the gate. Do not run.”
Lauren began moving.
Mara stayed beside her.
Samuel followed with the documents.
The man in the gray coat stood.
His right leg dragged slightly.
The same limp described in the storage facility footage.
Mara reached beneath her jacket.
The man drew a gun.
A shot cracked across the cemetery.
Samuel fell.
Lauren dropped behind a stone as Mara returned fire.
The shooter ran toward the maintenance road.
Officer units closed the gates, but he escaped through a gap in the rear fence.
Samuel had been struck in the shoulder and survived.
Evelyn’s call had disconnected.
Near the bench where the shooter had waited, police found a folded funeral program.
It belonged to Thomas Ellison.
May you like
Inside, someone had written:
Lauren is not the first beneficiary.
