The gunshot still seemed to echo after Jessica’s call disconnected.
I stared at the dead screen.
“Elena, stay here.”
She was already opening the car door.
“No.”
“Someone just fired a gun.”
“My daughter is in there.”
“So is mine.”
The words came out before I understood them.
My daughter.
Not literally. Not anymore. Not in any way that made sense.
Jessica had been my wife for eight years. Now I knew she was my mother’s daughter and therefore my half-sister. Language had become useless around us.
Maya grabbed my arm before I could move toward the warehouse.
“Police are going in.”
Farther down the industrial road, unmarked vehicles came alive almost simultaneously. Doors opened. Officers in tactical gear moved toward the property.
Another gunshot sounded.
This one came from inside the warehouse rather than through a phone.
Elena flinched.
I reached for her without thinking.
She gripped my hand.
Thirty years apart, and now we stood together in darkness listening to gunfire around the daughter she had held for six hours.
Officers breached a side entrance.
Someone shouted.
Another voice ordered everyone to get down.
Then came several seconds of confusion—boots, commands, breaking glass, the metallic crash of something large falling.
No more gunshots.
I could barely breathe.
Maya’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression gave nothing away.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Understood.”
She lowered the phone.
“They have four people secured.”
“Jessica?”
“They haven’t confirmed identities.”
“Four?”
I counted.
Jessica.
Daniel.
Rebecca.
Linda.
Thomas.
Cole.
Six people should have been inside.
“Two are missing.”
Elena understood too.
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
I started toward the warehouse.
Maya stopped me again.
“Ethan.”
“I’m not waiting.”
“You are if you don’t want an armed officer mistaking you for part of this.”
She was right.
I hated her for being right.
Five minutes felt like an hour.
Then an ambulance entered through the gate.
My stomach tightened.
A second ambulance followed.
Finally an officer approached us.
“Ethan Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“Your wife is alive.”
My knees almost gave out.
“Is she hurt?”
“Minor injuries from the earlier vehicle collision. No gunshot wounds.”
“What about the shot?”
“One male victim.”
“Who?”
“Raymond Cole.”
The retired judge.
“Alive?”
“For now.”
“What happened?”
“We’re still sorting that out.”
“Elena Morales is with me.”
The officer looked toward my mother.
Recognition appeared immediately.
Someone had briefed them.
“We’ll need statements from everyone.”
“Where’s Jessica?”
“She’s being brought out.”
The warehouse door opened.
Jessica emerged between two officers.
A bandage crossed her forehead.
Her hands were free.
She saw me.
For half a second neither of us moved.
Then she ran.
I met her halfway.
She collided with me hard enough to make me step backward.
Her arms went around my neck.
Mine went around her.
The embrace was instinct.
Then reality returned.
We separated almost at the same moment.
Jessica looked past me.
At Elena.
My mother stood near Maya’s car.
Her face had gone white.
Jessica stared.
Elena took one step forward.
Then stopped.
“Victoria.”
Jessica’s mouth trembled.
“Don’t.”
Elena froze.
“Please,” Jessica said. “Not yet.”
Pain crossed Elena’s face, but she nodded.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Jessica looked away.
An officer escorted her toward an ambulance.
Daniel came out next.
His face was bruised exactly as it had been in the video.
He was limping.
Elena ran to him.
Their embrace was different.
Old.
Familiar.
Complicated.
Daniel held her for several seconds before pulling away.
“You came.”
“So did you.”
“Bad habit.”
She touched the bruise on his cheek.
“That real?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So the ropes were yours.”
He almost smiled.
“I knew you’d notice.”
Rebecca emerged next.
She looked younger than I expected, though she had to be around forty. Her dark hair was cut short. Blood stained one sleeve.
Daniel immediately moved toward her.
“Rebecca.”
“I’m fine.”
“Whose blood?”
“Cole’s.”
I watched them embrace.
Whatever else Rebecca Barrett Mercer had done, Daniel’s fear for her was real.
Then Thomas came through the doorway in handcuffs.
He looked nothing like the monster I had constructed.
Late sixties.
Gray hair.
Ordinary face.
The kind of man you might ask to watch your suitcase at an airport.
He saw Elena.
Something unreadable crossed his expression.
Then he saw me.
“So that’s Ethan.”
An officer pushed him forward.
I stepped toward him.
Maya blocked me.
“Not now.”
Thomas smiled.
“Arthur raised you well.”
“Keep walking.”
“He never told you the best part, did he?”
I ignored him.
He stopped anyway.
“Thomas,” Rebecca said sharply.
He looked toward his daughter.
“Still choosing strangers.”
Daniel stepped between them.
Rebecca didn’t move.
“They aren’t strangers.”
Thomas laughed once.
“You’ll learn.”
Police moved him away.
“Where’s Linda?” I asked.
The officer beside us frowned.
“She wasn’t inside.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“Thomas Barrett, Rebecca Mercer, Daniel Mercer, Victoria Bennett, and Raymond Cole were present.”
“That’s five.”
“Correct.”
“Linda was there.”
Jessica turned.
“Yes.”
“She was standing behind me.”
The officer looked at her.
“When?”
“Minutes before the raid.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“No.”
“Any exits?”
“Back loading bay.”
Officers began speaking into radios.
Linda had escaped.
Again.
We were moved to a nearby command area.
Cole had been shot once in the upper chest.
Rebecca claimed Linda fired.
Thomas claimed he had not seen the shooting.
Jessica had heard Linda threaten Cole immediately before the gunshot.
Daniel had seen Linda holding the weapon.
Rebecca had tried to stop her and ended up with Cole’s blood on her sleeve while applying pressure to the wound.
That explained the scene.
It did not explain why Linda had escaped while everyone else remained.
“Because she planned it,” Rebecca said.
We sat inside an unused office near the warehouse while detectives separated witnesses.
Daniel and Rebecca had been permitted a few minutes together before questioning.
Rebecca looked at me directly.
“My mother never intended to give Thomas the ledger.”
“Then why kidnap Jessica?”
“She didn’t.”
Jessica answered from the other side of the room.
“Thomas did.”
Rebecca nodded.
“He thought Victoria would force Arthur to cooperate.”
“And Linda?”
“Let him.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas was useful.”
The word sounded chillingly similar to something Elena had said about Victor.
Useful.
People reduced to functions.
“What does Linda want?”
“Control over Cole.”
Maya leaned forward.
“For what?”
“Protection.”
“From prosecution?”
“From everyone.”
Rebecca rubbed her hands together.
“My mother spent decades collecting information. Victor believed Thomas worked for him. Cole believed Victor controlled Thomas. Thomas believed Linda was helping him.”
“But?”
Rebecca looked toward the warehouse wall as if she could see through it.
“Linda was keeping copies.”
“Of Victor’s crimes?”
“Everyone’s crimes.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Maya’s expression hardened.
“Blackmail.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Eventually.”
I thought of Linda’s ease inside the hospital.
The false identity.
The calm voice.
She had spent a lifetime becoming whoever she needed to become.
“Did she know Elena was alive?”
“For years.”
Elena spoke from near the window.
“I didn’t know she knew.”
Rebecca looked at her biological mother.
Their eyes met.
Jessica looked away.
“Linda found you through Daniel,” Rebecca said.
Daniel stiffened.
“How?”
“My phone.”
He closed his eyes.
“When?”
“Months ago.”
Rebecca’s voice broke slightly.
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You knew?”
“Not until last week.”
“You should have told me.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“By going to Elena alone?”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t fixing it.”
“I know.”
Their argument carried the exhausted familiarity of a marriage that had survived too many secrets.
I understood that too.
“What did you tell Elena yesterday?” I asked.
Rebecca turned toward me.
“The truth.”
“Which truth?”
“That Linda knew where she was.”
Elena nodded.
“She warned me to leave.”
“Then why were you photographed together?”
“Because Thomas’s people were watching Rebecca.”
Rebecca added, “I wanted them to think Elena trusted me enough to stay close.”
“So Thomas would focus on you.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel?”
“He let himself get caught.”
Daniel grimaced.
“Not my finest plan.”
“You staged the restraints.”
“Yes.”
“But the beating?”
“Thomas was less theatrical than I hoped.”
“Why risk it?”
“To hear what he knew.”
“What did you learn?”
Daniel’s expression darkened.
“That Thomas wasn’t running this.”
“Linda.”
“Yes.”
“Did he know?”
“Not fully.”
“Does he now?”
“He should.”
A detective entered and asked Rebecca to come with him.
Before she left, she looked at Jessica.
“Victoria.”
Jessica stiffened.
Rebecca hesitated.
“I’m sorry for what my family did to yours.”
Jessica’s reply was quiet.
“You’re part of that family too.”
Rebecca absorbed the blow.
“So are you.”
Jessica flinched.
Rebecca left.
I sat beside Jessica.
“How badly are you hurt?”
“Seat belt bruises. Cut on my forehead.”
“Thomas hit your car?”
“One of his men.”
“Where is he?”
“Police picked him up earlier.”
I nodded.
There was too much to say.
Instead I asked, “Why did Thomas call you Victoria?”
“Because he never accepted Jessica.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said Victor named me Victoria, so that was my name.”
“And Jessica?”
“My choice.”
I finally understood why the name mattered.
Jessica was not merely an alias.
It was one of the first things she had chosen for herself.
“I’ll call you Jessica.”
She looked at me.
“Thank you.”
Across the room, Elena watched us.
Her expression held grief I could not begin to untangle.
A detective entered.
“Mr. Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“We recovered several documents from the warehouse.”
“What kind?”
“Copies of financial records.”
“The ledger?”
“No.”
“Anything belonging to Linda?”
“Possibly.”
He placed a clear evidence sleeve on the table.
Inside was a photograph.
A younger Linda stood beside Victor Morales and Raymond Cole.
Between them was another man.
I recognized him.
Arthur Hayes.
My father.
The photograph appeared to have been taken years after the fire.
On the back, someone had written a date.
2004.
Eight years after Elena disappeared.
My father had told me he never dealt with Linda.
He had told me he barely knew Thomas.
Yet there he was, standing beside Linda, Victor, and Cole.
And all four were smiling.
Click here to continue reading: PART 14: A Photograph From 2004 Forced My Father to Admit He Had Met Victor Long After Everyone Thought Their War Was Over
My Father Had Never Asked Me for Money Until He Appeared at My Door With a Deadline
Part 13 of 35
