Chapter 12 - Daniel Mercer’s Secret
No one spoke for several seconds.
Rachel stared at Daniel.
“Your sister knew Trent’s father?”
Daniel looked older suddenly.
“Yes.”
Samuel leaned against a wooden beam.
“How much does Eleanor know?”
“Apparently nothing.”
Eleanor turned on him.
“I am standing right here.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“Marianne worked for Arthur for eight years.”
“I remember.”
“She also dated Charles Holloway.”
Eleanor stared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before Charles married Trent’s mother.”
Rachel whispered, “Dad knew?”
“Eventually.”
Eleanor looked at the photographs again.
The woman beside Charles was clearly Marianne.
“What does she have to do with missing money?”
Daniel answered reluctantly.
“Everything.”
Samuel interrupted.
“That isn’t proven.”
Daniel laughed.
“Arthur proved enough.”
“Then why wasn’t anyone charged?”
“Because Charles took responsibility.”
Rachel frowned.
“For Marianne?”
Daniel nodded.
“Charles moved the money. Marianne created the accounts.”
Eleanor looked through the bank records.
“Why?”
“Initially? They planned to leave.”
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“But they didn’t.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Marianne discovered she was pregnant.”
Rachel went still.
Eleanor looked at Daniel.
“By Charles?”
“Yes.”
The attic seemed suddenly smaller.
Rachel whispered, “What happened to the baby?”
Daniel looked away.
“My sister disappeared for almost a year.”
“Disappeared?”
“She went to California. When she returned, she said she had lost the pregnancy.”
“Did you believe her?”
“For years.”
Samuel said, “Daniel.”
Daniel ignored him.
“Then Arthur showed me something.”
“What?”
“A hospital record.”
Eleanor frowned.
“He investigated her pregnancy?”
“He investigated where the stolen money went. One payment led to a private clinic.”
Rachel whispered, “She had the baby.”
Daniel nodded.
Eleanor looked down at the photograph.
“What happened to the child?”
“We never found out.”
Samuel closed the binder.
“That is enough.”
“No,” Eleanor said.
“It has nothing to do with the current danger.”
“You cannot possibly know that.”
Samuel looked toward the ledger.
“Then read Arthur’s notes.”
Eleanor opened it.
Arthur’s handwriting filled page after page.
Dates.
Accounts.
Names.
At the top of one section:
Schedule C.
Everyone leaned closer.
It was not a beneficiary schedule.
It was a list of custodial accounts.
Three had been closed.
One remained active.
Beneficiary initials:
T.M.H.
Rachel whispered, “Holloway.”
Daniel’s face went pale.
Samuel said nothing.
Eleanor looked at him.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You recognized the initials.”
“I recognized the possibility.”
Rachel whispered, “T could be Trent.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Trent’s middle name is Andrew.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“I investigated him.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Rachel stepped back.
“What?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Peter contacted me.”
“You and Peter were working together?”
“Yes.”
“To investigate Trent?”
“Not initially.”
“Then who?”
Daniel looked at the ledger.
“Whoever controlled this account.”
Rachel pointed.
“T.M.H.”
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“We didn’t know.”
A sound came from downstairs.
Everyone froze.
The front door.
Rachel whispered, “Police?”
Samuel checked his phone.
“No message.”
Eleanor moved toward the attic stairs.
Daniel stopped her.
“Stay here.”
“It is my house.”
“And someone shot through your window two hours ago.”
Eleanor handed him a flashlight.
“Then you go first.”
They descended carefully.
The foyer was dark.
The repaired temporary board covered the broken window.
Eleanor heard movement in the kitchen.
Daniel gestured for the others to remain behind.
He entered.
Then stopped.
Agent Marlow stood beside the island.
Eleanor exhaled.
“How did you get in?”
Marlow held up a key.
Samuel frowned.
“You have a key?”
“No.”
Marlow looked toward Rachel.
“Back door was open.”
Rachel shook her head.
“I locked it.”
Silence.
Daniel walked toward the door.
No damage.
No forced entry.
Someone with a key had opened it.
Marlow looked at the group.
“You found the archive.”
Eleanor did not answer.
Marlow nodded toward dust on their clothes.
“Not difficult to guess.”
Daniel crossed his arms.
“Why are you here?”
“To tell you Peter contacted us again.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“What did he say?”
Marlow looked at Eleanor.
“He asked whether Arthur’s ledger still contained the T.M.H. account.”
Eleanor’s pulse quickened.
“How would he know we opened it?”
“He didn’t.”
“Then why tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
Samuel said, “Where is Peter?”
Marlow hesitated.
“We traced the call.”
“And?”
“A motel outside Dayton.”
Rachel took a step closer.
“So you found him.”
“When agents arrived, the room was empty.”
“Was he ever there?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Security footage.”
Daniel frowned.
“Did anyone leave with him?”
Marlow looked uncomfortable.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“We don’t have identification yet.”
“Man or woman?”
“Woman.”
Eleanor thought of the photographs.
“Age?”
“Mid-sixties.”
Daniel slowly turned.
“No.”
Marlow looked at him.
“What?”
Daniel’s voice became strained.
“Show me the footage.”
She hesitated.
“Daniel.”
“Show me.”
Marlow opened her phone and played a grainy motel video.
Peter Vale exited room 214.
Beside him walked a blond-gray-haired woman wearing sunglasses.
Daniel stared.
His face collapsed.
Rachel whispered, “You know her.”
Daniel nodded.
Eleanor already knew.
“Marianne.”
Marlow looked surprised.
“Mercer?”
Daniel barely heard her.
“My sister is alive.”
Samuel frowned.
“You thought she was dead?”
“Missing. Twelve years.”
Rachel whispered, “Why would she be with Peter?”
No one answered.
Then Eleanor noticed something in the video.
Peter was carrying a familiar black envelope.
The same type Arthur had hidden behind the brass plaque.
She pointed.
“Stop.”
Marlow froze the frame.
Eleanor zoomed in.
On the envelope were two words.
For Rachel.
Rachel stared.
“Me?”
Daniel looked at her.
Samuel looked at the attic.
Marlow whispered, “What did Arthur leave you?”
Rachel shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Then Trent’s voice came from the foyer.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
He stood inside the house.
The back-door key in his hand.
And beside him stood a woman Eleanor had not seen in nearly four decades.
May you like
Trent smiled.
“Meet my mother.”
