Chapter 8 - The Man Behind the Drafts
Megan Price looked smaller in a hospital bed than I remembered.
A white bandage covered part of her forehead.
Dark bruises shadowed one side of her face.
Detective Alvarez sat near the foot of the bed.
A second detective recorded the interview.
Camille and I were not allowed inside.
We waited behind the glass partition of a family consultation room nearby.
Nathan paced.
"Who else could be involved?"
"Stop asking me questions I cannot answer."
"I am thinking out loud."
"Think quieter."
He stopped pacing for twelve seconds.
Then he started again.
The interview lasted nearly two hours.
When Alvarez finally entered our room, she looked exhausted.
"Megan gave us a lot."
"Who helped Selina?"
Alvarez closed the door.
"Daniel Mercer."
Flynn's chief of staff.
I stared at her.
"The man who opened the fake pregnancy email."
"Yes."
"The man who told Flynn it was just a trust notice."
"Yes."
Camille leaned forward.
"How deep?"
Alvarez sat down.
"According to Megan, Mercer had been helping Selina access internal Vance records for almost a year."
"Why?"
"Money."
"How much?"
"At least eight hundred thousand dollars through consulting payments and offshore transfers."
Nathan let out a low whistle.
Alvarez continued.
"Megan says Selina wanted information about the family trust, Mabel's old preferred shares, executive security, and Flynn's schedule."
"Did Megan know why?"
"Not at first."
I looked through the glass toward Megan's room.
"When did she know?"
"About two months ago."
"And she said nothing."
Alvarez's face remained neutral.
"She says she was afraid."
"Of Selina?"
"Of both of them."
"Mercer too?"
"Especially Mercer."
I thought of Daniel Mercer.
Forty-five years old.
Immaculate suits.
A quiet voice.
He had worked beside Flynn for nine years.
He knew our schedules, our travel, our staff, and almost every private detail of our lives.
He had sent flowers to my mother when she had surgery.
He had organized our anniversary dinner the year before.
He had stood three feet from me at Christmas and asked whether Flynn and I planned to have children.
My stomach turned.
"Where is he?"
"Missing."
Of course he was.
"Since when?"
"He failed to report to work this morning."
"Did he help Selina enter the tower?"
"Possibly."
"Did he file the jet plan?"
"Possibly."
"Did he attack Megan?"
Alvarez hesitated.
"Megan says Selina struck her."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because Megan told her she would not help with the next stage."
The words chilled me.
"What next stage?"
Alvarez opened her notebook.
"Megan says the original plan was for you to die at the house."
Nathan stopped pacing.
No one spoke.
I had known it.
I had understood it intellectually.
But hearing a detective say the sentence made it real in a new way.
"How?"
My voice barely worked.
"Selina believed Flynn could be manipulated into hurting you badly enough that the result would look impulsive."
"She could not know he would stab me."
"No."
"Then what was the plan if he only yelled?"
Alvarez's expression hardened.
"Megan says Selina carried a second weapon."
I went cold.
"What kind?"
"Another kitchen knife."
"Why?"
"If Flynn did not hurt you severely, Selina planned to do it after he left the room and make it appear part of the same struggle."
Nathan turned away and put both hands on the window ledge.
I could not move.
I remembered Selina crouching beside me after Flynn disappeared into the hallway.
I remembered perfume.
Her hand near the knife.
Her face close to mine.
Maybe she had been deciding whether I was already dying.
"Did Megan see the knife?"
"She says Selina showed it to her that morning."
"Where is it now?"
"We do not know."
I closed my eyes.
Alvarez gave me a moment.
Then she continued.
"When you survived, the plan changed."
"To the fake confession and the jet."
"Yes."
"And the hospital call."
"Megan says Selina wanted information about your allergy because she was considering another way to make you sick."
Dr. Reed, standing near the door, went rigid.
"Considering?"
"Megan says she refused to help with that."
"What exactly did Selina ask for?"
"A list of medications that could cause a severe reaction."
Dr. Reed's face became cold.
"She would not get that from a normal call."
"She did not."
"Good."
I looked at Alvarez.
"What did she mean by next stage when she attacked Megan?"
"Megan says Selina planned to destroy the archive key and leave the country."
"Then why go to Vance headquarters?"
"To erase payments linking Mercer to her and copy a file she called the Gray Book."
Flynn had never mentioned a Gray Book.
Camille frowned.
"What is that?"
"We do not know."
I did not like those words anymore.
Alvarez continued.
"Megan heard Selina and Mercer discussing it several times."
"What did they say?"
"That if Flynn turned against them, the Gray Book would destroy him."
I felt a cold pressure behind my ribs.
"Destroy him how?"
"Megan does not know."
Nathan looked at me.
"Maybe corporate crimes."
Camille shook her head.
"Maybe blackmail."
I thought of Flynn's career.
His father's aggressive deals.
The acquisitions that had built Vance Global into an empire.
There had always been rumors.
Political donations.
Union pressure.
Foreign intermediaries.
Nothing I could prove.
Nothing I had wanted to know after I left finance.
Maybe Selina had not only been Flynn's first love.
Maybe she had also become the keeper of his worst secrets.
Alvarez stood.
"Megan is entering protective custody once she is medically cleared."
"Will she testify?"
"She says she will."
"Do you believe her?"
"I believe evidence."
I almost smiled.
"Of course you do."
At 3:00 p.m., police issued an arrest warrant for Selina Cole on charges related to the staged evidence, identity theft, and the attack on Megan.
A separate warrant was issued for Daniel Mercer for conspiracy, unlawful access to protected systems, financial crimes, and obstruction.
Flynn learned about Mercer from the news before his attorney could reach him.
He called me through Camille again.
This time, I agreed to answer.
Camille put the call on speaker.
"Mabel."
Flynn sounded broken.
"What do you want?"
"Did Alvarez tell you about Daniel?"
"Yes."
"I trusted him with everything."
I looked at Nathan.
"You trusted Selina too."
Flynn went quiet.
"I know."
"That seems to be your favorite defense."
"I am not defending myself."
"Then why are you calling?"
He took a breath.
"Because I remembered the Gray Book."
Camille leaned closer to the phone.
"What is it?"
Flynn hesitated.
"A private diligence file my father kept."
"On whom?"
"Everyone."
"Define everyone."
"Senior executives, major shareholders, board members, competitors."
I felt sick.
"Blackmail files."
"No."
"What else would you call it?"
"Risk intelligence."
Nathan laughed harshly.
"Of course billionaires call blackmail risk intelligence."
Flynn ignored him.
"The Gray Book contained vulnerabilities."
"Affairs?"
"Some."
"Crimes?"
A pause.
"Some."
"Your father collected crimes committed by his own executives?"
"He believed information prevented betrayal."
I closed my eyes.
The Vance family had always treated trust like a weakness to be managed.
No wonder Flynn had become the man he was.
"What is in your file?"
Camille asked.
Flynn did not answer.
"Mr. Vance."
"I do not know everything."
"That means you know something."
He exhaled.
"There is an acquisition from six years ago."
I knew immediately which one.
Halberd Logistics.
The deal had saved Vance Global from a debt crisis and made Flynn famous in business media.
It was also the transaction my old fund had helped finance.
"What about Halberd?"
"My father used an intermediary to pressure a minority shareholder into selling."
"Illegal pressure?"
"I do not know."
"You were chief operating officer."
"I was twenty-nine."
"That is not an answer."
His voice dropped.
"There were threats."
The room went quiet.
Camille's eyes narrowed.
"Threats from whom?"
"A contractor."
"Hired by your father?"
"I cannot prove that."
"Did you know at the time?"
Flynn hesitated.
That hesitation told me enough.
"You knew something was wrong."
"I knew after the closing."
"And you did nothing."
"I was trying to protect the company."
I laughed once.
There it was again.
Protect the company.
Protect Selina.
Protect the family name.
Everyone mattered until protection required him to choose me.
"Why would Selina want the Gray Book now?"
"Leverage."
"Against you?"
"Against the board."
"For what?"
"Money."
"Shares?"
"Maybe."
Camille leaned toward the phone.
"Did Selina ever ask you to transfer Vance shares to her?"
Flynn was silent.
"Mr. Vance."
"Yes."
My chest tightened.
"When?"
"Last year."
"What did you say?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because she was not family."
The cruelty of the answer was almost elegant.
Selina had been important enough to receive a house, money, passwords, secrets, and emotional loyalty.
But not important enough to receive the one thing she wanted most.
Ownership.
Control.
A permanent place in the Vance empire.
Maybe that was why she decided to remove me.
At 5:22 p.m., police found Daniel Mercer's car in an airport parking garage.
The driver's seat was empty.
His phone was inside.
His passport was gone.
Security footage showed him entering the terminal at 7:10 that morning.
He never boarded a flight.
At 6:03, a transit camera caught a man matching his description entering a commuter train station.
At 6:44, the trail vanished.
Then, at 7:15, the hospital received a courier envelope addressed to me.
No return name.
Security intercepted it.
Inside was a single gray flash drive.
A handwritten note was taped to it.
Mabel should know what kind of man she married.
May you like
The handwriting was Daniel Mercer's.
