Chapter 11 - THE LEDGER
The old football field was empty when the FBI arrived.
Ryan was gone.
So was the ledger.
All they found was his phone.
Cracked.
Lying beneath the bleachers.
The last outgoing call was to me.
The last incoming call was from an unregistered prepaid number.
Security cameras from a convenience store two blocks away caught a black sedan leaving the area.
The plate was partially visible.
Ryan’s last words echoed in my head.
Run the plate.
Brooks did.
The sedan belonged to Brighton Education Partners.
Same shell company that owned Eleanor’s cabin.
Same network.
The registered driver was Curtis Vale.
Hale’s former driver.
The man who had allegedly driven the SUV that hit Natalie.
The man who used Samuel’s identification outside the federal annex.
Now Ryan was with him.
Or had been.
I stopped feeling like a daughter or sister.
I became evidence with a pulse.
Claire tried to make me sleep.
I refused.
Maya tried to make me eat.
I managed half a sandwich.
At midnight, Samuel called.
“Ryan is alive.”
I stood so quickly the chair fell.
“How do you know?”
“Curtis contacted me.”
“Why?”
“He wants an exchange.”
“What exchange?”
“The ledger for the hidden drive.”
“The FBI has the drive.”
“He knows.”
“Then what does he want?”
“The forensic copy.”
I looked at Maya.
“How does he know Maya made one?”
Samuel was silent.
“You said there’s a leak.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I still don’t know.”
“Is Ryan with Curtis?”
“Yes.”
“Hale?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
I gripped the phone.
“What does Curtis want?”
“He thinks the hidden partition contains evidence tying him to the crash.”
“It does.”
“Yes.”
“So he wants it destroyed.”
“Yes.”
“Where is Ryan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Samuel.”
“If I knew, I’d tell Brooks.”
“You trust her?”
“I trust her more than most.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
I closed my eyes.
“Tell me about the payment to Natalie.”
Silence.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“She was dead.”
“Legally.”
My heartbeat slowed.
“What does that mean?”
“Her death certificate was signed on May twenty-first.”
“So?”
“The bank authorization occurred at 9:42 that morning.”
“When did she die?”
“Officially?”
“Yes.”
“6:10 a.m.”
“Then impossible.”
“Exactly.”
“Was the biometric record fake?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I audited the bank terminal.”
“Then Natalie was alive at 9:42.”
“Or someone used preserved biometric data.”
“Which?”
“I never proved it.”
My mind raced.
“Where did the million go?”
“Switzerland.”
“Why?”
“Hush money.”
“To Natalie?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“The account was in her name.”
“But controlled by?”
“Thomas.”
Of course.
“So Dad used her identity after death.”
“Yes.”
“Like he used mine.”
“Yes.”
The pattern.
Dead woman.
Infant daughter.
Same stolen identity mechanism.
My stomach turned.
“Why the biometric requirement?”
“Because Daniel Mercer structured the trust that way.”
“So Dad needed Natalie’s fingerprint.”
“Yes.”
“How did he get it?”
Samuel’s silence made me sick.
“From the body?”
“I believe so.”
I shut my eyes.
Maya looked at me.
I shook my head.
Not now.
Samuel continued.
“The million-dollar transfer is important for another reason.”
“What?”
“It went to a numbered account later used to pay Curtis.”
“Hale’s driver.”
“Yes.”
“So Dad paid him.”
“Yes.”
“To hit Natalie’s car?”
“No.”
“When?”
“After.”
“To keep quiet.”
My chest tightened.
“Then Hale ordered the crash.”
“Yes.”
“Dad covered it.”
“Yes.”
“Eleanor helped.”
“Yes.”
“Hannah triggered it.”
“Yes.”
“Mom hid.”
“Yes.”
“And everybody went on living.”
Samuel’s voice became quiet.
“Yes.”
I hated that answer most.
“Where’s the full ledger from?”
“Natalie’s audit.”
“How did Ryan get it?”
“Thomas stole the original from me in 2006.”
“Then hid it in Ryan’s briefcase.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Against Hale?”
“Yes.”
“So Dad planned to use Ryan as a dead drop.”
“Basically.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Father of the year.”
Samuel said nothing.
“How do we get Ryan back?”
“Curtis wants a meeting.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“No.”
“You asked.”
“I’m not handing him the copy.”
“I didn’t say you should.”
“Then?”
“We give him a fake.”
Maya heard that.
Her eyes widened.
Samuel continued.
“Make a cloned drive.”
“Can we?”
Maya nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“Remove the hidden partition.”
Samuel said,
“Keep a beacon.”
Maya smiled despite herself.
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
Claire hated everything.
Brooks hated it more.
But the FBI authorized a controlled exchange after Curtis sent proof Ryan was alive.
The video lasted eleven seconds.
Ryan sat in a chair.
Hands free.
No visible injuries.
Curtis stood behind the camera.
“Midnight tomorrow.”
“Old Mercer warehouse.”
“Bring the copied drive.”
“No federal agents inside.”
“If I see police, Ryan disappears.”
Brooks paused the video.
“He doesn’t say he’ll kill him.”
“He doesn’t need to.”
The old Mercer warehouse had once stored university scholarship records.
Abandoned for fifteen years.
It sat near the river.
I knew immediately this was not random.
Natalie had worked there.
Samuel confirmed it.
“She stored paper backups in the basement.”
“Are they still there?”
“Probably destroyed.”
“Probably?”
“The flood in 2010 ruined most archives.”
Brooks studied the building plans.
“We’re not sending Emily inside.”
Curtis called again.
This time he spoke directly to me.
“Miss Mercer.”
The name made my skin crawl in his voice.
“You have your mother’s stubbornness.”
“You killed her.”
“Hale killed her.”
“You drove the car.”
Silence.
That was confirmation enough.
“You hit her.”
“I followed orders.”
“Everyone in my family seems to love that excuse.”
Curtis laughed.
“Your family is why she died.”
My pulse shifted.
“What does that mean?”
“Ask Thomas who told Hale what route Natalie would take.”
I already knew Dad was involved.
But Curtis continued.
“Ask Laura who gave Thomas the address.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
“Your precious aunt knew where Natalie was meeting Hale.”
“Mom was in the car.”
“Later.”
“What?”
“She wasn’t supposed to be.”
I gripped the phone.
“What are you saying?”
“Laura told Thomas the meeting location because she thought he was going to protect Natalie.”
That sounded possible.
Too possible.
“And Thomas told Hale.”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Another mistake.
Another frightened choice.
Curtis continued.
“Midnight.”
“If Ryan isn’t there…”
“He will be.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“No.”
“Then no deal.”
Silence.
Curtis sighed.
“Fine.”
Ryan came on.
“Emily?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
“Don’t.”
“Ryan.”
“Don’t come.”
Curtis swore in the background.
Ryan continued quickly.
“The ledger has a red page.”
“What?”
“Page forty-seven.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s on it?”
“Names.”
“Whose?”
He started reading.
“Hale.”
“Thomas.”
“Eleanor.”
“Hannah.”
“Curtis.”
Then silence.
“Ryan.”
His voice changed.
“There’s another name.”
“Who?”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Curtis moved.
Ryan shouted.
“DAVID MERCER.”
The line disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
David Mercer.
My biological father was Daniel Mercer.
Not David.
I looked at Samuel’s message archive.
“Who is David Mercer?”
Samuel didn’t answer.
Brooks searched federal databases.
One result.
David Jonathan Mercer.
Daniel Mercer’s older brother.
My biological uncle.
Current status: deceased.
Date of death: 2002.
Two years before Natalie.
Maya looked at me.
“Another dead relative.”
I almost laughed.
Then Brooks opened the full record.
David Mercer had not died naturally.
He had disappeared while sailing.
Body never recovered.
Legally declared dead seven years later.
And before Daniel Mercer died of cancer, David had been trustee of the Mercer Scholarship Fund.
Which meant the theft had begun before Natalie’s audit.
Before Thomas.
Before Hale became university president.
Before my mother died.
The conspiracy was older than I was.
Samuel finally replied.
DAVID STARTED IT.
I typed.
HE’S DEAD.
Samuel answered.
NO BODY.
My blood went cold.
WHERE IS HE?
Samuel replied:
THAT IS THE QUESTION NATALIE DIED TRYING TO ANSWER.
Then another message arrived.
AND IF CURTIS HAS RYAN AT THE MERCER WAREHOUSE, YOU MAY FINALLY GET YOUR ANSWER.
May you like
Because the warehouse had belonged to one person before the university acquired it.
David Mercer.
