Chapter 6 - KYLE'S PRICE
They brought Kyle into the kitchen ten minutes later.
He was not handcuffed.
Not yet.
The backpack sat on the counter in an evidence bag.
Inside, visible through the clear plastic, was my missing red drive.
Kyle looked at me with the same expression he had worn as a teenager whenever he got caught stealing beer from the garage refrigerator.
Annoyed at being caught.
Not ashamed of what he had done.
Martin Cole entered behind him.
“Nobody speaks until we understand the basis for this detention.”
Deputy Vance answered.
“Mr. Kyle Mercer was leaving a residence under active evidence preservation after being told not to remove property.”
“It is his backpack.”
“The drive is not.”
Cole looked at Kyle.
Kyle looked away.
Richard appeared in the doorway.
His face went rigid when he saw the bag.
That reaction mattered more than anything he said next.
“What is this nonsense?”
I watched him.
He knew the drive.
Diane entered behind him.
She saw it.
Her hand stopped on the doorframe.
She knew it too.
Lena noticed both reactions.
“Deputy, I think we are done here for now.”
Kyle laughed nervously.
“Done?”
“Yes.”
She looked at me.
“We have what we came for.”
I understood.
Do not interrogate.
Preserve.
Let them wonder what we knew.
We left the house with the drive, the original trust records, and the surviving backup.
I expected Kyle's attorney to prevent any immediate interview.
I was wrong.
At four seventeen that afternoon, Kyle called me from a number I did not recognize.
I was sitting beside Noah's bassinet when the phone vibrated.
“Hello?”
“Do not hang up.”
I recognized his voice instantly.
I stood and stepped into the hall.
“You have an attorney.”
“Cole is Dad's attorney.”
“He represented you this morning.”
“Because Dad told him to.”
“What do you want?”
Kyle breathed hard.
“I want you to understand I did not know they were going to leave her out there that long.”
The sentence was so wrong I almost could not process it.
“You took her shoes.”
“I was trying to make her sign.”
“You refused to take Noah when she thought he was freezing.”
“Mom said if I brought the baby in without her, Emma could claim we kidnapped him.”
“You were worried about being accused of kidnapping while you were imprisoning his mother outside?”
“I did not think of it like that.”
“That does not help you.”
Kyle was silent.
Then he said the one thing that kept me from hanging up.
“Dad lied to me too.”
“About what?”
“The house.”
I leaned against the wall.
“What about it?”
“He said you gave it to him.”
“You saw the forged deed.”
“I thought it was real.”
“You notarized nothing.”
“No, Mallory did.”
“Your girlfriend.”
“She thought it was real too.”
I almost laughed.
“Did she watch me sign it?”
Kyle went quiet.
That was answer enough.
“What did Richard promise you?”
“Nothing.”
“Kyle.”
He exhaled.
“Fifty thousand.”
There it was.
“For what?”
“Helping with the house.”
“What does that mean?”
“Changing locks.”
“Stealing Emma's phone?”
“I did not steal it.”
“You took it.”
“Dad told me it was evidence.”
“Taking property from someone without permission is stealing.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
Silence.
“What else did he pay you to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Kyle.”
“I copied some files.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
“What files?”
“From your office computer.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
The hallway seemed to tilt.
“Before I deployed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Dad said he needed old tax documents for Grandmother's estate.”
“What did you copy?”
“I do not know.”
“You copied files without looking?”
“I copied the whole folder.”
“Which folder?”
“Family archive.”
That folder contained far more than taxes.
Scans of my signature.
Insurance forms.
Old trust drafts.
Property records.
Copies of military orders.
Even a scan of my identification from a home loan package.
“You gave Richard all of it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Eleven months ago.”
That pushed the beginning of the fraud back even farther.
“Did Diane know?”
“I do not know.”
“You live with them half the time.”
“She knew Dad was looking at the estate.”
“What about the red drive?”
Kyle went silent again.
“You took it from my safe?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get it?”
“Mom gave it to me this morning.”
I straightened.
“When?”
“After the hearing.”
“Where did she have it?”
“I do not know.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me to get it out of the house before the police found it.”
“And you agreed.”
“I panicked.”
“What did you think was on it?”
“She said old financial records that would be misunderstood.”
I laughed once.
“You believed that?”
“No.”
“Then why did you run?”
“Because Dad was losing it.”
“What do you mean?”
“He kept asking Mom where the second ledger was.”
I went still.
“What second ledger?”
“I do not know.”
“Exact words.”
Kyle lowered his voice.
“He said, ‘If Ethan gets the second ledger, we are finished.’”
I had never heard of a second ledger.
“What did Diane say?”
“She said you would never find it because your grandmother hid it before she died.”
My heart began beating harder.
Grandmother Evelyn had created the trust.
She had also spent the final three years of her life convinced that Richard was taking money from her.
I had assumed dementia had made her suspicious.
Richard had told all of us the same thing.
Maybe that had been another story built early enough to become family truth.
“Kyle, where are you?”
“Why?”
“Because you need your own lawyer.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No.”
I looked through the glass at Noah.
“I am telling you Dad is not going to protect you.”
“He said he would.”
“He promised you fifty thousand and handed you a forged deed.”
Kyle said nothing.
“He let you stand on my porch and become the person who refused shelter to a freezing baby.”
“Stop.”
“He filmed Emma so you could be the witness.”
“I said stop.”
“Ask yourself why he needed you on camera and not himself.”
The line went quiet.
I could hear Kyle breathing.
Then he whispered.
“Because if everything went bad, it would be me.”
“Now you are thinking.”
He cursed.
“I have to go.”
“Do not destroy anything.”
“Why should I listen to you?”
“Because every time you destroy something for them, you make yourself more useful as the person they blame.”
The call ended.
I immediately wrote down everything I could remember and sent it to Lena.
She called back.
“Did you record it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I do not want you freelancing witness interviews.”
“He called me.”
“I know.”
“What is the second ledger?”
“I was going to ask you.”
“I have no idea.”
“Your grandmother kept financial records?”
“Obsessively.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“That is not helpful.”
“She kept notebooks in the kitchen, bedroom, sewing room, car, and greenhouse.”
“Any survive?”
“Richard cleared most of her house after she died.”
“Where did the belongings go?”
“Storage.”
“Whose storage?”
“My parents handled it.”
Lena sighed.
“Of course they did.”
I thought back.
“There was one place Grandmother never let Richard touch.”
“Where?”
“Her church donation room.”
“What?”
“She volunteered at St. Matthew's for twenty years.”
“Did she keep personal property there?”
“She had a locking cabinet.”
“Still there?”
“I do not know.”
We called the church.
The current administrator remembered Evelyn Mercer immediately.
He also remembered the cabinet.
“It was removed after her death.”
My hope dropped.
“By whom?”
“Your mother, I believe.”
Diane.
“Do you have records?” Lena asked.
“Possibly.”
“Anything else?”
The administrator hesitated.
“There was an envelope.”
“What envelope?”
“Mrs. Mercer left one with Father Brennan.”
My pulse quickened.
“For whom?”
“You.”
I stood.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why was I never told?”
“You were overseas when she died, and Father Brennan retired shortly afterward.”
“Where is the envelope now?”
“I would need to check archived pastoral files.”
Lena leaned toward the speaker.
“Please do not open it.”
“I would not.”
“Please secure it and call us.”
The administrator agreed.
I ended the call.
A message from Captain Hale appeared immediately afterward.
CALL ME NOW.
I dialed.
He answered on the first ring.
“We have the badge log from the family readiness annex.”
“Who accessed the room?”
“Three people during the window.”
“Names.”
“Two are cleared.”
“And the third?”
Hale sounded angry now.
“Civilian family liaison named Patricia Vance.”
The surname hit me.
“Vance?”
“Yes.”
“Related to Mallory Vance?”
“We checked.”
My stomach tightened.
“She is Mallory's mother.”
Kyle's girlfriend had notarized the fraudulent deed.
Her mother worked in the exact military office where my credential had been used.
This was no longer a family conspiracy with one lucky connection.
It was a network.
“What did Patricia say?”
“We have not interviewed her yet.”
“Why?”
“Because she did not report for work today.”
“Where is she?”
“We do not know.”
Hale paused.
May you like
“And her house is empty.”
