Chapter 4 - My Father's Best Friend
Martin Vale stood on Grandma's porch holding no weapon.
Only a leather briefcase.
Mercer ordered him to show his hands.
Martin obeyed.
He was sixty-four, silver-haired, expensive suit, calm eyes.
I'd known him since childhood.
He had given me graduation gifts.
Sent care packages during deployments.
He had carried Grandpa's casket.
Now Dad had accused him of murder.
"I assume Charles has been talking," Martin said.
Mercer didn't answer.
Martin looked at me.
"May I come in?"
"No."
"Fair enough."
He placed the briefcase on the porch.
"This belongs to you."
"What's inside?"
"Evidence."
Mercer took possession of it.
Inside were financial records, USB drives, printed emails, and one digital recorder.
Martin said Dad had been embezzling for years.
He claimed he had discovered it only eighteen months earlier.
"Then why didn't you report him?"
"Because he threatened me."
I nearly laughed.
"Everyone seems terrified of everyone."
Martin's expression remained calm.
"Your father can be persuasive."
"I noticed."
Mercer asked, "What did he threaten you with?"
"My involvement in a development company."
"You mean the shell corporations?"
Martin's calm slipped.
"Charles created those."
"Your name is on several."
"I was negligent."
"That's an interesting word."
Martin turned to me.
"The truth is complicated."
"The bat wasn't."
He looked genuinely ashamed.
"I heard."
"Why are you here?"
"Because Charles is trying to blame me for Benjamin's death."
"Did you kill him?"
"No."
"Did Dad?"
Martin paused.
That pause mattered.
"I don't know."
Mercer watched him closely.
"What do you know?"
Martin pointed toward the recorder.
"Listen."
Mercer wouldn't play evidence casually, but later, after procedures I didn't understand and calls to Ortiz, we heard part of the recording.
Dad's voice.
Martin's voice.
The recording was dated six months after Grandpa died.
Martin: You can't keep acting like nothing happened.
Dad: Nothing happened.
Martin: Benjamin was going to expose you.
Dad: He had a heart attack.
Martin: After you went there.
Dad: Watch yourself.
Martin: Did you touch his medication?
Long silence.
Dad: You don't want to know.
Grandma left the room before it ended.
I couldn't.
My hands shook.
Mercer stopped the audio.
"This doesn't prove murder."
"It proves he knew something," I said.
"It raises questions."
Martin nodded.
"That's why I kept it."
"Why return the blue ledger?" Mercer asked.
"I didn't."
"Who did?"
"I assumed Charles."
"Charles stole it."
"Then someone took it from him."
Mercer stared.
"Who?"
Martin looked at me.
"Paige."
I stood.
"No."
"Your sister has been collecting evidence against Charles for months."
"She helped him."
"Both can be true."
That sentence stayed with me.
Martin claimed Paige had contacted him after Grandpa's death and asked questions about Dad's finances.
At first, she wanted to protect Dad.
Later, she began copying records.
"Why?"
"Insurance."
"Against her own father?"
Martin gave me a sad smile.
"Your sister learned from Charles."
Mercer's phone rang.
His face changed while listening.
"What happened?"
He hung up.
"Paige never arrived at the station."
I felt the room tilt.
"What?"
"The officer transporting her stopped after she said she felt sick. She ran from the vehicle."
"Why would she run?"
"We don't know."
Martin immediately picked up his coat.
Mercer stopped him.
"You're staying."
"If Charles has her—"
"You said Charles isn't the biggest threat."
Martin stared.
"I never said that."
Paige had.
Which meant Martin didn't know everything.
I called her.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Then my phone rang.
Paige.
"Where are you?"
Her breathing came quickly.
"Abby, don't talk. Just listen."
"Where are you?"
"I found Grandpa's backup."
"Backup what?"
"The recording."
"What recording?"
"The night before he died."
Mercer moved closer.
Paige whispered, "Grandpa recorded Dad."
My heart hammered.
"Bring it to the police."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because someone followed me."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
A car horn sounded through her phone.
"Paige."
"I'm at the old North Creek sales office."
Mercer immediately wrote the address.
"I'm going to send—"
"No police."
"Paige."
"If they see police, they'll leave."
"Who are they?"
"I don't know!"
She started crying.
"I screwed everything up, Abby."
I closed my eyes.
"I'm not arguing with that right now."
"I should have stopped Dad."
"Yes."
"I should have told you."
"Yes."
"I thought if you signed, nobody would get hurt."
"My ribs disagree."
A strange sound came through the phone.
Door hinges.
Paige stopped breathing.
"Someone's here."
"Hide."
"I can't."
"Paige!"
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Abby, if something happens, the password is Grandpa's Army serial number."
Then the line went dead.
Mercer was already moving.
Police converged on North Creek.
They found Paige's car.
Driver's door open.
Phone on the ground.
Blood on the steering wheel.
Not much.
Enough to scare me.
Inside the abandoned sales office, investigators found a laptop.
No Paige.
The laptop contained one encrypted audio file.
I knew Grandpa's serial number.
The file opened.
Before listening, Mercer received confirmation that Paige's blood was on the steering wheel.
He asked whether I wanted to wait.
"No."
The recording began.
Grandpa spoke first.
"Charles, sit down."
Dad replied, "I'm not discussing this again."
"You stole from the scholarship fund."
"I borrowed."
"You stole."
"It was temporary."
"Then repay it."
"I can't."
"You will."
"Or what?"
"I've changed the trust. Abby gets control."
A crash.
Maybe Dad hitting the table.
"You always preferred her."
"This isn't about preference. Paige is already involved in your mess."
"Don't talk about my daughters."
"Then stop using them."
Dad's breathing grew louder.
Then came the sentence that made Grandma start sobbing when Mercer later played it for her.
Dad said, "If you do this, you're going to regret it."
Grandpa answered quietly.
"No, Charles. You are."
The recording continued with movement.
Then Grandpa said:
"Put that down."
My entire body went cold.
Dad answered:
"You should have left things alone."
There was a sharp sound.
Then the recording stopped.
Not enough.
Again.
Never enough.
Mercer immediately contacted the medical examiner's office about reviewing Grandpa's death.
Hours passed.
No sign of Paige.
Then Dad called me again.
This time I answered before Mercer could object.
"Where is she?"
Dad sounded terrified.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not."
"Paige said Martin was coming for her."
Martin, being interviewed in another room, couldn't have reached North Creek.
Unless he had help.
Dad whispered, "Abby, listen to me. I did terrible things. I stole money. I lied. I hurt you."
My eyes burned.
"But I did not kill my father."
"Then why did Grandpa tell you to put something down?"
Silence.
"Because I was holding his heart medication."
I couldn't speak.
Dad continued.
"He had taken too much by mistake."
"Why didn't you say that?"
"Because we were fighting. I took the bottle from him. He thought I was threatening him."
"Then what happened?"
"I left."
"And he died the next morning."
"Yes."
"Convenient."
"I know."
"Why did Martin tell you his death could destroy you?"
"Because Martin knew I had switched Grandpa's medication supplier."
"What?"
"For money."
I shut my eyes.
"I arranged cheaper imported pills through one of Martin's companies."
Mercer stared at the phone.
Dad whispered, "I didn't know they were counterfeit."
Everything stopped.
Counterfeit heart medication.
Grandpa.
Dad.
Martin.
Then another phone rang.
Mercer's.
He answered.
Listened.
His face hardened.
"They found Paige."
I stood too quickly and gasped from my ribs.
"Where?"
Mercer didn't answer immediately.
"She's alive."
Relief almost knocked me down.
"Where is she?"
"County General."
"What happened?"
"She was left outside the emergency entrance."
"By who?"
"No one knows."
Mercer looked at me.
"But she had something taped beneath her jacket."
"What?"
"A note."
He held out his phone.
May you like
A photograph showed four words written in block letters.
ABBY IS NEXT TONIGHT.
