Chapter 3 - The Child in the Photograph
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Noah slept in Rachel’s arms.
Rebecca stared at the photograph.
I stared at Trevor’s face in it.
He looked younger.
Maybe twenty-nine.
His arm was around Charles Hayes.
Charles looked very much alive.
And in Charles’s arms was an infant wrapped in a blue blanket.
The timestamp was impossible.
Six months after Charles had supposedly died.
I opened the guesthouse door.
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
“Emma.”
“I’m not letting him inside.”
Daniel Mercer stood three feet away.
Up close, he looked exhausted rather than threatening.
Early sixties.
Weathered face.
Gray hair.
His eyes moved immediately toward Noah.
Then back to me.
“You look like your mother,” he said.
I stiffened.
“You knew my mother?”
“No.”
“Then don’t talk about her.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
I held up the photograph.
“Explain this.”
“Not out here.”
“You’re not coming inside.”
“Then we drive somewhere public.”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the road.
“That sedan is mine. The silver SUV two houses down isn’t.”
We all looked.
A silver SUV sat near the corner.
Tinted windows.
Engine running.
Rebecca said quietly, “We’re leaving.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know a place.”
“You’re not choosing it,” Rebecca said.
She named a busy café beside the county courthouse.
Daniel agreed.
We left separately.
Rachel drove me and Noah.
Rebecca followed.
Daniel came behind us.
The silver SUV stayed parked.
At the café, we sat in the rear booth beneath three security cameras.
Daniel placed a folder on the table.
“I worked for Hayes Development for twenty-two years,” he began.
“What did you do?”
“Accounting.”
Rebecca asked, “Why did you testify at Charles’s death hearing?”
“Because Richard asked me to.”
My stomach tightened.
“You lied?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t soften it.
“I lied.”
“About what?”
“Charles’s state of mind. I testified he was depressed after a business dispute and had been drinking before taking the boat out.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
“Why did you say he was?”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“Because Richard had evidence that could have put my son in prison.”
“What evidence?”
“My son had been stealing from the company.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“So Richard blackmailed you.”
“Yes.”
I tapped the photograph.
“And Charles?”
“Didn’t die that night.”
My skin prickled.
“Then whose body was found?”
“A man named Paul Erickson.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened.
Daniel nodded.
“Paul worked seasonal maintenance at the marina. Similar height. Similar build. The body was badly damaged after days in the water.”
“How could they identify it as Charles?”
“Dental records.”
Rebecca said, “Those are difficult to fake.”
“Not if the dentist owes your brother half a million dollars.”
I felt sick.
“Why fake Charles’s death?”
“Because Charles discovered Richard had been moving company assets through shell corporations.”
“Harbor Ridge.”
“Yes.”
“Trevor was involved.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Not at first.”
I hated that tiny qualifier.
“At first?”
“Trevor signed documents Richard placed in front of him. He trusted his father.”
“So he was careless.”
“Yes.”
“Or complicit.”
“That came later.”
Rachel shifted beside me.
“How much later?”
Daniel looked at Noah again.
“After Charles returned.”
I held up the photograph.
“When was this taken?”
“The timestamp is real.”
“Why is Trevor with Charles?”
“Because Trevor discovered he was alive.”
“And the baby?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
I leaned forward.
“Who was the baby?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“You should ask Trevor.”
“I did enough asking Trevor while married to him.”
“You need to hear this part from him.”
“No.”
My voice sharpened.
“You brought me a picture involving my husband, his supposedly dead uncle, and a baby. You do not get to become mysterious now.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“The baby was Charles’s grandson.”
“How?”
“Charles had a daughter named Julia.”
I had never heard that name.
“Richard told everyone Charles had no children.”
“Richard erased her from the family.”
“Why?”
“She knew too much.”
Rebecca asked, “Where is Julia?”
Daniel’s eyes dropped.
“Dead.”
The café suddenly felt too loud.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“How?”
“Officially? Car accident.”
“And unofficially?”
“I don’t believe in that many accidents.”
My arms tightened around Noah.
“What happened to the baby?”
Daniel looked directly at me.
“That is what Charles was trying to protect.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Boy or girl?”
“A boy.”
“How old?”
“He’d be about three now.”
I looked again at the photograph.
Trevor standing beside Charles.
A baby in Charles’s arms.
My mind jumped backward.
Three years.
Trevor had taken an unexplained trip to Boston around that time.
He told me he was negotiating a hotel acquisition.
He was gone four days.
When he came home, he refused to talk about the trip.
I had never questioned it.
“Did Trevor help Charles hide the baby?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
My heart jolted.
“So Trevor knew his uncle was alive.”
“Yes.”
“And lied to everyone.”
“Yes.”
“What happened afterward?”
“Charles disappeared again. Trevor returned home. Richard discovered his son had met with Charles.”
“How?”
“Vanessa.”
The name cut through me.
“Vanessa was involved then?”
“She worked in Richard’s office before Trevor promoted her.”
I swallowed.
“She told Richard?”
“Vanessa told Richard almost everything.”
Almost.
That word mattered.
“What didn’t she tell him?”
Daniel sat back.
“That she was working for Charles too.”
Rebecca whispered, “Double agent?”
Daniel nodded.
“For years.”
My understanding of the morning cracked apart.
Vanessa.
The perfume.
The divorce.
Her asking, Did she take it?
“What is Trevor’s relationship with Vanessa?”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“That I don’t know.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to believe she’s some secret informant and just coincidentally spends the night with my husband?”
“I said I don’t know.”
My phone vibrated.
Trevor.
I answered this time.
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Because I went to Rachel’s.”
My sister stiffened.
“You what?”
“No one was there. Emma, listen to me. Richard knows you took something.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
“You expect me to trust that answer?”
“I’m not asking you to trust anything right now.”
I stared at Daniel.
“Did you know Charles was alive?”
Silence.
Then Trevor said, “Who told you?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes.”
The truth hurt despite Daniel already confirming it.
“You lied to me for three years.”
“I was trying to protect someone.”
“The child?”
Trevor stopped.
“You’ve seen the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
Trevor cursed under his breath.
Daniel looked almost amused.
“Put me on speaker,” he said.
I did.
Trevor’s voice turned cold.
“Daniel.”
“Trevor.”
“You should have stayed gone.”
“So should Charles.”
A pause.
Then Trevor said, “Emma, get away from him.”
Daniel replied, “She should get away from you.”
“Don’t play righteous. You helped my father bury this.”
“I’m trying to undo it.”
“Three years too late.”
I interrupted.
“Enough.”
Both men stopped.
“Trevor, did you sleep with Vanessa last night?”
Silence.
The question was simple.
The silence answered.
Then he said, “No.”
“Why did you smell like her?”
“I met her.”
“At four in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“A hotel.”
I laughed once.
Trevor continued quickly.
“Not like that. She had information.”
“About what?”
“Harbor Ridge.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know you had already found the documents.”
“You still asked me for a divorce.”
Another long silence.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His voice lowered.
“Because Richard gave me a choice.”
I stopped breathing.
“What choice?”
“He knew you were looking through company records.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“He told you to divorce me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if I didn’t, he said he would make sure you and Noah became part of the problem.”
Rachel whispered a curse.
My anger flared.
“And you thought abandoning us was protection?”
“I thought if you weren’t legally connected to me—”
“You idiot.”
“I know.”
The words came immediately.
No defense.
No arrogance.
Just: I know.
For the first time, something in me faltered.
Trevor continued.
“I came home intending to tell you enough to make you leave without asking questions.”
“So you humiliated me on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think you were sleeping with Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
“You told me I couldn’t support myself.”
His voice cracked.
“I needed you angry enough to go.”
My eyes burned.
“You succeeded.”
“I know.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Ask him where Charles is.”
I looked at the phone.
“Where is Charles?”
Trevor didn’t answer.
“Trevor.”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“He’s lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You moved Charles after Julia died.”
Trevor said, “And then someone took him.”
“Who?”
“I thought Richard.”
Daniel whispered, “No.”
Trevor continued.
“But if Richard had Charles, he wouldn’t still be searching for the Harbor Ridge records.”
Rebecca asked, “What records?”
Trevor heard her.
“The complete ledger.”
I frowned.
“What complete ledger?”
“The document you found is one transfer. Charles kept a master ledger of every shell corporation, every bribe, every falsified acquisition. Enough to destroy Richard.”
“Where is it?”
“I thought Charles had it.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
Trevor snapped, “Then who does?”
Daniel looked at me.
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
Daniel didn’t speak.
“Why are you looking at me?”
Trevor’s voice sharpened through the phone.
“Emma?”
Daniel reached into his coat.
Rachel immediately stood.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Daniel slowly removed another photograph.
He placed it on the table.
It showed me.
Eight months pregnant.
Walking from my car toward the Hayes estate.
I stared at him.
“What is this?”
“Turn it over.”
I did.
In unfamiliar handwriting were the words:
SHE HAS IT WITHOUT KNOWING.
My pulse pounded.
“I have what?”
Daniel leaned closer.
“The ledger.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“How?”
“Charles gave it to you.”
“I have never met Charles.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
His voice softened.
“You met him sixteen months ago.”
I searched my memory.
Nothing.
Then something surfaced.
A rainy afternoon.
A grocery store parking lot.
An elderly man had bumped my cart.
He apologized.
Helped pick up my bags.
He had handed me a small leather-bound baby journal I had dropped.
Except—
I had never bought that journal.
I had assumed Diane had.
My face went cold.
I stood so fast the table shook.
Rachel stared.
“What?”
I grabbed my phone.
“My pregnancy journal.”
Trevor said, “What about it?”
“It wasn’t mine.”
Daniel whispered, “Charles put the ledger inside the cover.”
Rachel grabbed her keys.
The journal was still at the Hayes estate.
In Noah’s nursery.
We rushed toward the café door.
My phone vibrated before I reached it.
A security-camera notification from the nursery.
I opened the feed.
Someone stood beside Noah’s empty crib.
A man in a dark coat.
He picked up the leather pregnancy journal from the shelf.
Then he slowly turned toward the camera.
I had seen his face in hundreds of family photographs.
May you like
Richard Hayes smiled directly into the lens.
And behind him, tied to a chair in the corner, was Trevor’s mother.
