Maya stayed on the phone while I checked every window.
“Is he still outside?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did you see his face?”
“Not clearly.”
“Did Jessica?”
I looked at her.
She shook her head.
“I saw the ring,” she said.
Maya heard her.
“Put her on speaker.”
I did.
Maya's voice became cautious.
“Jessica, do you recognize the symbol?”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“It belonged to my father's security group.”
My eyes moved toward the dark porch.
“Security group?”
“My father used private investigators and former military contractors. The ring identified senior members.”
“Who was wearing it?”
“I don't know.”
Maya was silent.
Then she said, “His name is Daniel Mercer.”
Jessica went completely still.
“You know him?”
“I know the name.”
“Who is he?”
“He worked for Victor.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Worked?”
Maya exhaled.
“He was listed as deceased after the fire.”
The room seemed colder.
Jessica whispered, “That's impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
I asked, “Why would a dead man be standing on my porch?”
“I don't know,” Maya said. “But I know one thing. He has been looking for the same documents Arthur has been protecting.”
Jessica looked at me.
“You need to leave.”
I almost laughed.
“You're the one who broke into my safe.”
“I know.”
“You're the reason I'm in this.”
“I know that too.”
“Then why should I listen to you?”
“Because if Mercer found us, the trust isn't the thing he's after.”
“What is he after?”
Jessica looked at the locked office door.
“Your mother.”
The words settled heavily between us.
Maya said, “Go to the hospital.”
We left through the back door.
The rain had started again.
Jessica walked beside me without speaking.
For eight years, I had known the rhythm of her footsteps.
Now even that felt unfamiliar.
We reached the car.
She stopped.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“I need to tell you something before we go.”
I waited.
“My father didn't start the fire.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He ordered it.”
“You just said Mercer worked for him.”
“He did.”
“And your father ordered the fire.”
“Yes.”
“Then what's the difference?”
“My father wanted the documents destroyed.”
“And Mercer?”
“He wanted Elena dead.”
I felt sick.
“Why?”
“Because she had proof he had been stealing from Victor.”
That changed the shape of everything.
“Victor was stealing from the family,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Mercer was stealing from Victor.”
“Yes.”
“And Elena found out.”
“Yes.”
I opened the car door.
“So my mother wasn't only running from her brother.”
“She was running from the man my father hired.”
We drove to the hospital.
Arthur was awake.
When he saw Jessica behind me, his expression hardened.
“Why is she here?”
“Because Mercer is alive.”
Arthur's face changed.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he whispered one word.
“No.”
Jessica stepped forward.
“He came to the house.”
Arthur looked at her.
“You brought him.”
“I didn't.”
“You knew he was looking.”
“Yes.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“You should have told Ethan years ago.”
“I know.”
“You knew what Mercer did.”
“I knew part of it.”
“Enough.”
Jessica lowered her head.
Arthur looked at me.
“Did you find the locker?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find the passport?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
“She was alive.”
“You knew?”
“I hoped.”
“Dad, stop saying you hoped. Did you know?”
Arthur swallowed.
“I knew she survived the fire.”
My entire body went still.
“You told me you didn't know.”
“I knew she survived that night.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“I didn't know whether she was still alive.”
I sat beside him.
“Why did she leave?”
Arthur looked at Jessica.
She answered.
“Because Mercer found her.”
Arthur nodded.
“After the fire, Elena went south. Then she crossed into Canada.”
“And you kept sending money.”
“Yes.”
“Why did she never come back?”
Arthur's voice broke.
“Because she believed coming back would put you in danger.”
Jessica sat in the corner.
She was crying silently.
I looked at her.
“You knew where she might be.”
“I had a location.”
“Where?”
“Vancouver.”
“An address?”
“No. A name.”
“What name?”
“Eleanor Hayes.”
My father's face tightened.
“That was her alias.”
Maya entered the room carrying a folder.
“I found something.”
She placed several papers on the table.
“The Vancouver account wasn't just receiving money.”
“What else?”
“Someone was withdrawing cash from it.”
Arthur looked confused.
“I didn't authorize that.”
Maya pointed to the dates.
“Every withdrawal happened within forty-eight hours of your monthly payment.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
Jessica leaned forward.
“Show me.”
Maya handed her the statement.
Jessica studied it.
Then she frowned.
“These locations aren't in Vancouver.”
“Where are they?”
“Bellingham.”
My pulse quickened.
“That's close.”
“Very.”
Maya pointed to one withdrawal.
“There's an address connected to the ATM.”
Jessica read it.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“I know this place.”
“Where?”
“My father owned a warehouse there.”
Arthur swore under his breath.
Maya gathered the documents.
“We need to go.”
Arthur tried to sit up.
“No.”
“You're staying here,” I said.
His hand caught my wrist.
“Ethan.”
I leaned closer.
“Don't go.”
“Why?”
“Because Mercer knows about the warehouse.”
“How?”
Arthur looked toward Jessica.
“She knows.”
Jessica shook her head.
“I never told him.”
“Then how did he know?”
Nobody answered.
We left the hospital separately.
Maya drove ahead.
Jessica and I followed.
The warehouse sat near the edge of an industrial district.
Its windows were boarded.
A rusted chain hung across the main entrance.
Maya had obtained a temporary access order through her legal contacts.
Inside, the air smelled of dust, oil, and wet concrete.
We found old crates.
Empty offices.
A broken security desk.
Then Jessica stopped.
“There.”
She pointed to a wall.
A faded Morales emblem had been painted above a locked metal door.
Maya examined it.
“This isn't on the property records.”
Arthur had been right.
Someone had been hiding something.
Jessica found a key taped beneath the desk.
The lock opened.
Inside was a narrow room filled with filing cabinets.
Most were empty.
One contained photographs.
I pulled out the first.
My mother.
Alive.
Older.
Standing beside a lake.
The date on the back was seven years after the fire.
My knees nearly buckled.
Another photograph.
Ten years after the fire.
Elena in a grocery store.
Another.
Twelve years after the fire.
She was walking beside a woman I didn't recognize.
Jessica took the photograph from my hand.
“That woman is my aunt.”
“What?”
“She helped my mother.”
Maya looked at the back.
“There's an address.”
It was in British Columbia.
I could barely breathe.
“She was alive.”
“Yes,” Jessica whispered.
“Then why did she never contact me?”
Jessica looked at the photographs.
“Maybe she tried.”
I found a cassette tape in the bottom drawer.
A handwritten label read:
ELENA — 2008.
We found an old player in another cabinet.
The tape crackled.
Then my mother's voice filled the room.
She sounded older.
Tired.
But alive.
“If Arthur ever brings Ethan here, tell him I didn't abandon him.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
Her voice continued.
“Tell him the trust was never the real reason they wanted me.”
Jessica looked at me.
The tape clicked.
Then my mother's voice became a whisper.
“They wanted the ledger.”
The recording stopped.
Maya rewound it.
We listened again.
The ledger.
Not the trust.
Not the money.
The ledger.
I looked at the filing cabinets.
“What ledger?”
A sound came from the hallway.
A slow footstep.
Then another.
Jessica grabbed my arm.
Maya reached for her phone.
The hallway light went out.
Someone locked the door from the outside.
Then a man's voice came through the darkness.
“You finally found it.”
Jessica whispered my name.
I recognized the voice.
Daniel Mercer.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: Mercer Locked Us Inside the Warehouse, but the Hidden Ledger Revealed Why My Mother Had Been Hiding From Everyone
My Father Asked Me for a Thousand Dollars, Then Looked Past My Shoulder as Though He Was Afraid Someone Had Followed Him Home
Part 6 of 20
