Chapter 10 - THE MEMORY SHE COULD NOT EXPLAIN
Marissa spent the night going through old records.
She found photographs from twelve years ago.
Emails.
Travel documents.
Deployment schedules.
There was one missing week.
A week she had always assumed was lost in the chaos of preparation.
David claimed she had given him the document during that week.
But why?
Marissa called an old colleague.
“Do you remember my deployment twelve years ago?”
“Of course.”
“Was there anything unusual before I left?”
Her colleague hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You met someone.”
“Who?”
“I don't remember his name.”
“Where?”
“A hotel.”
Marissa's heart raced.
“What hotel?”
The colleague gave her the name.
It was in Manhattan.
The same hotel where Anthony had held a business conference.
Marissa went there with Thomas.
The hotel archives contained an old guest log.
Her name appeared.
So did Anthony's.
But the dates were different.
Marissa frowned.
“I wasn't with him.”
Thomas looked at the record.
“Then who was with you?”
A second name appeared beneath hers.
David Mercer.
Marissa stared.
“I knew David?”
“You apparently did.”
“I don't remember.”
Thomas said nothing.
Marissa returned to the townhouse.
She found an old photograph in a box.
She was younger.
Standing beside David.
Both were smiling.
Anthony was in the background.
Watching them.
Marissa's memory shifted.
A flash.
A hotel room.
A document.
David saying:
“You need to keep this somewhere safe.”
Then Anthony entering.
The memory disappeared.
Marissa sat down.
She suddenly understood.
Anthony had been there.
He had seen the document.
And he had wanted it.
That night, Anthony called.
“I need to see you.”
“No.”
“Please.”
Marissa almost didn't recognize the word.
Anthony rarely said please.
“Why?”
“Because I need to tell you something before Eleanor does.”
Marissa agreed to meet.
They sat in a quiet restaurant.
Anthony looked exhausted.
“I lied about the night you met David.”
“I know.”
“You gave him documents.”
“I remember.”
Anthony looked down.
“You found out what my mother was doing.”
Marissa stared at him.
“What was she doing?”
Anthony shook his head.
“She wasn't stealing from the company.”
“Then what?”
“She was moving money for someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Anthony looked at her.
“I never knew the full name.”
“Then what did you know?”
“An organization.”
“What organization?”
He hesitated.
Then whispered:
“The Northbridge Trust.”
Marissa frowned.
“That's not a company.”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
Anthony looked around.
“I shouldn't have said that.”
Marissa leaned closer.
“Anthony.”
He looked terrified.
“The people behind it don't care about money.”
“What do they care about?”
Anthony swallowed.
“Control.”
Before Marissa could respond, Anthony's phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
The message contained only four words.
You should not have talked.
Anthony stood immediately.
“We need to leave.”
Marissa remained seated.
“Why?”
Anthony looked toward the restaurant entrance.
Three men had just walked inside.
May you like
He whispered:
“Because they found us.”
