Chapter 3 - Nathan’s Locked Instructions
I showed Samantha the messages without speaking.
She read them.
Then she read them again.
“What do we do?”
“We preserve everything.”
“Who sent them?”
“No idea.”
“Daniel Mercer?”
“Maybe.”
“Bianca?”
“Maybe.”
“My father?”
She looked at me.
“I’m not ruling anyone out.”
That hurt.
Not because I trusted Richard.
I no longer did.
But even after everything, some part of me still wanted his cruelty to have limits.
A forged document was one thing.
Threatening witnesses was another.
Samantha forwarded screenshots to Deputy Harris and instructed me not to reply.
For the next several hours, I was trapped between two emergencies.
One was inside my body.
The other was unfolding outside the hospital.
Doctors wanted me calm.
My life refused to cooperate.
By late afternoon, contractions had slowed.
My daughter remained stable.
The plan was observation.
Strict monitoring.
No unnecessary stress.
I almost asked whether attempted theft by your father qualified.
Instead, I nodded.
My mother arrived shortly before five.
Susan Vale had divorced Richard sixteen years earlier and avoided him with the discipline of someone who had learned expensive lessons.
She entered my hospital room carrying an overnight bag.
Then she saw me.
Her face broke.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
I began crying before she reached the bed.
Mom wrapped her arms around me carefully.
For several minutes, neither of us talked.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“No.”
She pulled back.
“You don’t apologize for surviving a terrible day.”
I looked at her.
“Dad tried to take the house.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Samantha called.”
Mom’s mouth tightened.
“She asked me several questions.”
“What questions?”
“About your father’s finances.”
That surprised me.
“What do you know about them?”
“More than Richard wishes I did.”
Samantha, who had been standing near the window, turned.
“Susan?”
Mom sat.
“When we divorced, Richard hid assets.”
I stared at her.
“You never told me.”
“You were sixteen.”
“I’m thirty-two now.”
“And until this morning, I thought it was irrelevant.”
“What assets?”
“Companies. Partnerships. Land options. He moved money through entities I didn’t know existed.”
Samantha moved closer.
“Do you remember names?”
“One.”
“What?”
Mom frowned, searching her memory.
“Mercer Development Holdings.”
Samantha went still.
I felt it immediately.
“Daniel Mercer.”
Mom looked at me.
“You know that name?”
“Dad said it this morning.”
Mom’s expression changed.
“He shouldn’t have.”
“Why?”
She looked at Samantha.
Then at me.
“Because Daniel Mercer was the reason your father nearly lost everything fifteen years ago.”
The room became silent.
“Explain.”
Mom took a breath.
“Richard and Daniel developed land together.”
“Nathan’s Daniel Mercer?”
“I don’t know anything about Nathan.”
Samantha did.
She pulled the visitor chair closer.
“What happened between Richard and Mercer?”
“They bought industrial property. Warehouses. Old manufacturing sites. Richard handled deals. Daniel raised private capital.”
“Then?”
“One project collapsed.”
“How?”
“Fraud allegations.”
My heart accelerated.
“Against Dad?”
“Against the partnership.”
“Was he charged?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Daniel disappeared.”
Samantha leaned forward.
“When?”
“2009.”
That was seven years before I married Nathan.
“Richard told everyone Daniel had stolen company money and left.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Mom looked toward the fetal monitor.
“Because the night Daniel disappeared, he came to our house.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You were asleep.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted Richard.”
“Why?”
“They argued in the driveway.”
“About what?”
“I couldn’t hear everything.”
“What did you hear?”
Mom closed her eyes briefly.
“Daniel said Richard had forged something.”
The word hit the room like glass breaking.
“What?”
“He kept saying, ‘You signed my name.’”
My mouth went dry.
Samantha asked, “Did Richard admit it?”
“No. He told Daniel to leave.”
“Then?”
“Daniel said he had copies.”
“Copies of what?”
“I don’t know.”
Samantha stood.
“Did he mention Nathan?”
“No.”
Nathan would have been twenty-two then.
Early in his career.
Perhaps already working in construction.
I tried to assemble the pieces.
“How did Nathan become Daniel’s business partner?”
Samantha answered slowly.
“Daniel hired him.”
“When?”
“2008.”
A year before Daniel disappeared.
“And after Daniel left?”
“He transferred ownership of a small infrastructure company to Nathan.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re his attorney.”
“I became Nathan’s attorney years later.”
“Who handled the transfer?”
She hesitated.
“Another lawyer.”
“Who?”
“Edward Shaw.”
Mom inhaled.
“Oh my God.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Edward represented your father.”
Samantha’s expression hardened.
Everything was connecting.
Not clearly.
But enough to become frightening.
My father.
Daniel Mercer.
Nathan.
Forged signatures.
Land.
A company.
A trust.
This had started long before my husband died.
“Did Nathan know about Dad and Daniel?”
“I think so,” Samantha said.
“You think?”
“He never told me everything.”
The words angered me.
“Nathan hid all of this.”
“He was trying to verify it.”
“I was his wife.”
“I know.”
“No, Samantha. Everyone keeps deciding what I should know.”
My voice rose.
The fetal monitor changed slightly.
Mom put her hand on my arm.
“Easy.”
I closed my eyes.
Breathing slowly.
In.
Out.
Our daughter’s heartbeat settled.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re allowed to be angry,” Samantha said.
“Apparently I’m not allowed to be informed.”
She accepted that.
Then she opened her briefcase.
“There is something Nathan did leave for you.”
“What?”
“A recorded instruction.”
“Video?”
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
“You have a video of Nathan?”
“I do.”
Every part of me wanted it immediately.
Every part of me feared it.
“When?”
“Recorded five months ago.”
“Why didn’t you show me?”
“He gave conditions.”
“Of course he did.”
“Elena.”
“What conditions?”
“If Richard attempted to gain control of your property, financial accounts, estate, or medical decision-making authority.”
A chill moved through me.
“Medical?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Dad try to control my medical decisions?”
“We don’t know that he would.”
“But Nathan included it.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Mom.
She was pale.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mom.”
She shook her head.
“Later.”
“No more later.”
Susan looked at Samantha.
Then back at me.
“When I divorced Richard, he tried to have me declared financially incompetent.”
My skin prickled.
“He did what?”
“He claimed I was emotionally unstable.”
The exact language Richard had used about me.
Samantha immediately understood.
“Did he obtain guardianship?”
“No. My attorney stopped it.”
“Why did he try?”
“To prevent me from accessing company records during the divorce.”
I stared toward the window.
The world outside looked offensively normal.
Cars moved.
People walked.
Sunlight touched hospital glass.
Inside, my understanding of my father was disintegrating.
Samantha placed a small tablet on the tray table.
“I think the condition has been met.”
My hands began trembling.
“Play it.”
She hesitated.
“Please.”
She pressed the screen.
Nathan appeared.
My breath disappeared.
He was sitting in Samantha’s office.
Blue shirt.
No tie.
His hair slightly too long.
Alive.
I covered my mouth.
“Hey, Lena.”
His voice.
I broke.
Not loudly.
I simply folded forward and cried.
Mom held my shoulder.
On the screen, Nathan paused as if he somehow knew I would need time.
Then he continued.
“If you’re watching this, something I hoped would never happen has happened.”
I wiped my eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
I whispered, “You idiot.”
The smallest smile appeared on his recorded face.
“I know you’re probably calling me an idiot.”
That nearly destroyed me.
Samantha looked away.
Nathan continued.
“I started investigating Richard because I discovered a title document connected to property my company acquired through Daniel Mercer.”
He held up a file.
“The signature on that document was Daniel’s.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Except Daniel says he never signed it.”
I looked at Samantha.
Daniel says.
Present tense when Nathan recorded this.
Daniel Mercer was alive.
Nathan continued.
“Daniel didn’t disappear because he stole money. He disappeared because someone used his name to transfer property and debt.”
My father.
I knew before Nathan said anything else.
“I cannot prove Richard did it.”
Nathan looked directly into the camera.
“But I found evidence tying one of his companies to the transaction.”
My hands tightened around the blanket.
“He may have been doing this for years.”
Nathan lowered his voice.
“And I think he recently discovered I know.”
My entire body went cold.
The room seemed to disappear around me.
Nathan had died in a highway collision.
Three weeks earlier.
A collision investigators had called accidental.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody answered.
On screen, Nathan continued.
“I created safeguards because Elena is pregnant, and because if something happens to me, Richard may try to step in while she’s vulnerable.”
My mother began crying.
“I’m sorry, Elena.”
Nathan breathed.
“The house belongs to you. The insurance belongs to you. The trust belongs to you and our daughter.”
Then he leaned closer to the camera.
“But there is one thing Richard cannot be allowed to get.”
Samantha froze.
I looked at her.
“You’ve seen this.”
“Only the first part.”
“What?”
“Nathan encrypted the rest.”
On screen, Nathan held up a brass key.
“If the fraud protection activates, Samantha will receive access to Box 614 at Northstar Private Bank.”
Samantha reached into her briefcase.
She pulled out a small envelope.
Inside was a key.
Brass.
Stamped:
Nathan continued.
“There is something inside that box that belongs to Daniel Mercer.”
A knock sounded at my hospital room door.
Samantha stopped the recording.
Deputy Harris stepped inside.
His expression told me something had happened.
“What?”
He looked at Samantha.
Then me.
“We found Margaret Ellis.”
Relief hit first.
“Is she okay?”
He did not answer immediately.
“She’s alive.”
My relief vanished.
“Where was she?”
“At a motel outside Auburn.”
“Why?”
“She says she was hiding.”
“From who?”
Harris closed the door behind him.
“Your father.”
I stared at him.
“She says Richard ordered her to notarize your signature.”
Samantha stood.
“Will she make a statement?”
“She already has.”
“Then arrest him.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard says Margaret created the documents herself.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“He also claims she stole money from his company.”
Mom muttered, “Of course he does.”
Harris looked directly at me.
“There’s another problem.”
“What?”
“When officers went back to your house to collect the documents from Nathan’s study…”
He paused.
“The envelope with Daniel Mercer’s name was gone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Dad took it?”
“No.”
“Bianca?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who was inside?”
“No one was supposed to be.”
Supposed to be.
I hated that phrase.
Samantha grabbed her phone.
“Check the security system.”
I stared at her.
“We have cameras?”
“Nathan installed exterior cameras six months ago.”
I did not know that either.
She opened an app Nathan had given her emergency access to.
The front driveway.
The backyard.
The side entrance.
Then she stopped.
A clip had been recorded at 2:18 p.m.
While I was already in the hospital.
A dark sedan pulled into our driveway.
A man got out.
Tall.
Gray hair.
He used a key to enter through the back door.
Seven minutes later, he came out carrying Nathan’s white envelope.
Samantha enlarged the image.
My mother made a strangled sound.
I looked at her.
“You know him?”
She nodded slowly.
“I haven’t seen him in fifteen years.”
“Who is he?”
She stared at the screen.
“Daniel Mercer.”
The video continued.
Daniel stopped beside his car.
Then he turned toward the security camera.
Directly toward it.
As if he knew Nathan would have one.
He removed something from his pocket.
A piece of paper.
He held it up.
Three handwritten words filled the screen.
May you like
ELENA, FIND ME.
Then the video ended.
