Chapter 7 - The Retirement Dinner)
Walter did not want a retirement dinner.
Elaine insisted.
She wanted eighty guests.
Walter negotiated her down to twenty-three.
Daniel handled invitations.
Brooke chose flowers.
Rachel was asked to cook.
Nobody noticed the irony except Rachel.
Three days before the dinner, Thomas called.
"I traced another account."
Rachel sat in her car outside a grocery store.
"Whose?"
"Walter's."
She closed her eyes.
"More payments?"
"No. He was paying the clinic where Emily lived."
Rachel opened her eyes.
"For how long?"
"Twelve years."
"Why?"
"Through shell companies."
Rachel gripped the steering wheel.
"Did Emily know?"
"Possibly."
Thomas hesitated.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Walter stopped the payments nine months ago."
"When Emily disappeared."
"Yes."
Rachel stared through the windshield.
"What happened to the money afterward?"
"It moved."
"Where?"
"To a private account."
"Whose?"
Thomas took too long.
Rachel knew the answer would hurt.
"Daniel's."
She stopped breathing.
"What?"
"An account associated with Daniel's company."
"No."
"I checked twice."
"Daniel doesn't know anything about Mercer House."
"Maybe."
Rachel's voice hardened.
"He doesn't."
"Rachel, I know he's your husband."
"That has nothing to do with it."
"It has everything to do with it."
She ended the call.
That night Rachel searched Daniel's home office.
She hated herself for it.
Bank files.
Contracts.
Tax documents.
Nothing unusual.
Then she found a folder labeled WALTER TRANSFER.
Inside were quarterly deposits.
Large deposits.
Daniel had received nearly four hundred thousand dollars over nine months.
Rachel stared at the pages.
Daniel entered.
"What are you doing?"
She turned.
He saw the folder.
His expression darkened.
"You went through my desk?"
"What is this money?"
"My father transferred investments."
"Why?"
"Because he's retiring."
"Why did it start nine months ago?"
Daniel frowned.
"I don't know."
"Did you ask?"
"No."
"Four hundred thousand dollars appears in your company and you don't ask?"
"It's my family's money."
Rachel laughed quietly.
There it was.
The Mercer answer.
Ours.
Therefore unquestioned.
Daniel grabbed the folder.
"What is this really about?"
"Mercer House."
He stared at her.
"Dad admitted it existed."
Rachel's expression shifted.
"What did he say?"
"That he made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"He wouldn't say."
Rachel looked away.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Rachel, were you there?"
She looked at him.
He had finally reached the question.
"Yes."
Daniel sat down.
Rachel continued.
"I was fourteen."
He stared.
"What kind of place was it?"
"A youth treatment residence."
"Why were you there?"
"My mother died. I had no family who could take me."
Daniel's face softened.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Rachel laughed without humor.
"I did."
"What?"
"When we were dating. I told you I'd spent part of my teens in institutional care."
"I thought you meant foster care."
"You didn't ask."
That sentence struck him.
Again.
He looked down.
Rachel continued.
"A girl disappeared the night the place was raided."
"Emily?"
Rachel nodded.
"My father knows what happened to her."
Daniel stood.
"We'll ask him."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because every time Walter gets scared, records disappear."
Daniel stared.
"You think Dad destroyed evidence?"
"I think he took my private case from our bedroom."
Daniel's face changed.
"He stole from our house?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have believed me?"
Daniel had no answer.
Rachel walked toward the door.
"Rachel."
She stopped.
"What?"
Daniel swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
She looked at him.
"For what?"
He glanced around.
"For not knowing."
Rachel waited.
Daniel struggled.
"For... all of it."
She nodded once.
It wasn't forgiveness.
But it was the first honest thing he had said in weeks.
Then his phone rang.
Brooke.
Daniel answered.
"Dad?"
May you like
Her voice was frantic.
"Grandpa collapsed."
