Chapter 5 - The Man Behind the Fire
Daniel Mercer held up the trust document and said, "Your mother never told you who this money belonged to."
My father stood beside him.
Neither man moved closer.
They didn't need to.
The parking garage had only one open exit, and the black SUV blocked most of it.
My mother tightened her grip on my wheelchair.
"Don't listen to him."
Daniel smiled.
"Still giving orders, Claire?"
Alexander stepped between us and the SUV.
"Move the car."
Daniel looked at him as if he'd just noticed he was there.
"Alexander."
Something about the way he said his name made my stomach tighten.
"You know each other," I said.
Alexander didn't answer.
Daniel did.
"Of course we do."
My eyes moved to Alexander.
"How?"
"It's complicated."
"No."
I almost laughed.
Nothing hurt anymore compared with hearing that sentence.
"Ten years of my life were apparently arranged by people standing in this garage. You don't get to call anything complicated."
Daniel slowly unfolded the document.
"Then let's simplify it."
My mother moved in front of me.
"You say one more word and—"
"And what?"
Daniel's smile disappeared.
"You'll disappear again?"
My mother went silent.
He looked at me.
"The money your mother calls an inheritance came from our father."
"My grandfather."
"Yes."
"He left it to Mom."
"No."
Daniel held up the document.
"He hid it through her."
My mother shook her head.
"That's not true."
"Then tell her."
"Tell me what?" I demanded.
Neither answered.
I looked at my mother.
"Mom."
She closed her eyes.
Daniel laughed quietly.
"Seventeen years hiding and she still can't tell you the truth."
My mother opened her eyes.
"Our father was investigated for financial crimes."
Daniel nodded.
"Better."
"He moved money through legitimate businesses."
"Keep going."
"Some of those businesses belonged to me."
"And me."
My mother looked at Daniel.
"You helped him."
"I was twenty-three."
"You knew exactly what you were doing."
"So did you."
"No."
Daniel's voice hardened.
"You signed everything."
"Because Dad told me they were business transfers."
"And when the government started asking questions, you suddenly became innocent."
"I cooperated."
"You betrayed us."
My mother turned toward me.
"The money wasn't stolen."
Daniel laughed.
"Claire."
"It wasn't."
"Twenty-four million dollars appeared in your daughter's trust because our father was feeling generous?"
My mother ignored him.
"Most of the estate was legitimate. But Daniel believed all of it belonged to him."
"Because I was his son."
"And I was his daughter."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
There it was.
Something old.
Something poisonous.
A family grievance that existed long before I was born.
"What does any of this have to do with me?" I asked.
Daniel looked at me.
"Everything."
He held up the trust.
"When your grandfather realized he might go to prison, he created a protected trust."
"For Mom."
"For the next generation."
Me.
My stomach turned.
"He made you the beneficiary because you were a child. Untouched by any investigation."
"Then why does everyone need me married?"
"Because your grandfather was paranoid."
My mother answered this time.
"He didn't want your father controlling it while you were young."
Daniel nodded.
"The trust became fully transferable after your first marriage."
"Transferable to whom?"
"Whoever you designated."
"I didn't designate anyone."
He smiled.
"Your signature says otherwise."
I stared at the document.
"Forged."
"Perhaps."
"You tried to kill me."
Daniel's expression barely changed.
"Did I?"
"I saw the footage."
That did it.
The smile vanished.
Behind me, Gabriel shifted slightly.
Daniel's eyes moved toward his backpack.
"You recovered the camera."
Nobody answered.
"Give it to me."
Gabriel laughed.
"No."
Daniel reached into his coat.
Alexander moved instantly.
"Don't."
Daniel stopped.
His hand remained inside.
My father finally spoke.
"Emily, give him whatever you found."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because I want you alive."
"You had a strange way of showing it upstairs."
His face tightened.
"You don't understand what's happening."
"Then explain why you paid Alexander to date me."
Alexander turned toward him.
"Don't."
My father ignored him.
"Because I needed someone near you."
"Why?"
"To protect you."
I actually laughed.
Pain tore through my ribs.
"Everyone keeps calling surveillance protection."
"It was protection."
"From Daniel?"
My father looked at him.
"Originally."
Daniel smiled.
"Originally."
One word.
One ugly implication.
"Then something changed," I said.
My father didn't answer.
Alexander did.
"Your company."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"When it became successful, your father changed the arrangement."
My father snapped, "Alexander."
"No."
Alexander turned toward me.
"He deserves to hear this from me."
"He?" I said.
Alexander closed his eyes briefly.
"She."
For the first time, he looked embarrassed.
Good.
"Talk."
He swallowed.
"Your father approached me before I transferred colleges."
"Why you?"
"My father needed heart surgery."
I remembered.
Of course I remembered.
Alexander's father nearly died during our junior year.
I'd spent nights in that hospital with Alexander.
I'd brought food.
I'd held his hand.
I'd helped pay bills.
"My father couldn't afford the surgery," Alexander continued. "Your father offered to help."
"In exchange for me."
"In exchange for making sure you were safe."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
"Good."
"I didn't know about the inheritance."
"Not then."
"No."
"When did you find out?"
"Six weeks ago."
Before the wedding.
My stomach dropped.
"The trust paperwork."
He nodded.
"And you said nothing."
"I was going to."
"When? Before or after I burned to death?"
His face went white.
"I didn't know about the fire."
"But you knew about the documents."
"Yes."
"And you let me sign them."
Silence.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
That hurt more than I wanted it to.
Daniel clapped slowly.
"Touching."
Alexander turned.
"Shut up."
"Ten years and you finally developed a conscience."
Alexander moved toward him.
My father stepped between them.
"Enough."
I stared at my father.
"Did you plan the fire?"
"No."
"Did Katrina?"
"No."
"Joyce?"
His silence answered.
My pulse jumped.
"You knew."
"I suspected something after it started."
"Then why accuse me?"
My father's face finally cracked.
Not much.
Enough.
"Because Joyce called me before the ceremony."
"What did she say?"
"She said you had discovered the trust."
"But I hadn't."
"I know that now."
"And?"
"She said you threatened to destroy everything."
"Everything meaning what?"
He looked toward Daniel.
Daniel's expression darkened.
My father whispered, "The agreement."
"What agreement?"
Daniel pulled his hand from his coat.
Not a weapon.
A phone.
He tapped the screen.
My wedding photograph appeared.
Me and Alexander.
Smiling beneath white flowers.
"The marriage was supposed to be the last step," Daniel said.
"Last step of what?"
"Moving the trust beyond government reach."
My mother shook her head.
"That's why you came back."
Daniel looked at her.
"I never left."
Then he looked at me.
"Your father wanted the money. Alexander wanted his debts erased. Katrina wanted security."
"And Joyce?"
Daniel smiled.
"Joyce wanted your life."
A chill ran through me.
"Meaning?"
"She spent years watching you get everything she believed should have been hers."
"My father?"
"Yes."
"Alexander?"
His smile widened.
"Especially Alexander."
I looked at my husband.
He stared at the floor.
"Was there something between you?"
"No."
Too fast.
"Alexander."
"No affair."
"That's not what I asked."
He looked at me.
"She kissed me once."
My chest tightened.
"When?"
"Three months ago."
"And?"
"I stopped her."
"Did you tell me?"
"No."
Of course not.
"Why?"
"Because she said she'd been drinking. She apologized."
Daniel laughed.
"You believed her?"
Alexander ignored him.
"Emily, I swear nothing happened."
"I don't care."
And I realized I meant it.
That surprised him.
Maybe it surprised me too.
Yesterday, the idea of losing Alexander would have destroyed me.
Now I couldn't imagine trusting him enough to share an elevator.
"Where is Joyce?" I asked.
My father looked toward Daniel.
Daniel looked toward the SUV.
That was enough.
"She's here?"
No answer.
My mother moved closer to me.
"We need to leave."
Daniel raised the trust document.
"Nobody leaves until I have the footage."
Gabriel quietly reached into his pocket.
Daniel noticed.
"Don't."
"It's already uploaded."
Daniel's face changed.
Gabriel smiled.
"Four copies."
"Where?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Daniel stepped toward him.
Alexander blocked him.
For several seconds, the two men stared at each other.
Then sirens echoed faintly above us.
Daniel looked toward my father.
"You said we had twenty minutes."
"We should have."
"What's happening?" I asked.
Nobody answered.
Then Maria's phone rang.
She checked it.
"Hospital security."
She answered.
"Hello?"
Her face changed.
"What?"
She looked at me.
"Police are upstairs."
My heart jumped.
"Good."
"No."
She lowered the phone.
"They're asking for you."
"Why?"
Maria listened.
Then stared at Joyce's tiny scratch in my memory.
"They have a warrant."
Alexander turned.
"For what?"
Maria swallowed.
"Attempted murder."
My father closed his eyes.
Daniel smiled.
Of course.
They weren't here to arrest Joyce.
They were here for me.
"How?" I whispered.
Daniel held up the memory card.
Except—
I hadn't noticed him take it out.
The same black card Joyce had shown me upstairs.
"The missing footage," he said.
My mother stared at him.
"What did you put on it?"
"Nothing."
He tossed it onto my blanket.
"Joyce did."
Gabriel grabbed it.
"We need to see this."
"Don't," my mother said.
But Gabriel already had his laptop open.
He inserted the card.
One video file.
6:07 PM.
Storage 4B.
"Play it," I said.
The video opened.
Me.
Joyce.
Inside the storage room.
My stomach turned.
The angle came from the original camera.
Joyce stood near the wall.
I stood beside her.
Then the video jumped.
Suddenly I appeared to shove Joyce.
She stumbled backward.
Flames erupted.
"That's fake."
Gabriel leaned closer.
"Edited."
"Can you prove it?"
"Probably, but not in thirty seconds."
Footsteps echoed from the elevator corridor.
Police.
Daniel backed toward the SUV.
My father followed.
"You brought them here," I said.
He shook his head.
"No."
"Then who did?"
Daniel opened the SUV door.
"Think carefully about who benefits if you're arrested."
Joyce.
I looked toward Alexander.
"Where is she?"
He didn't know.
My mother's phone buzzed.
She checked it.
Her expression changed.
A message.
She showed me.
It came from Marcus's number.
I'M FREE.
COME TO THE WAREHOUSE.
I KNOW WHERE JOYCE HID THE ORIGINAL RECORDING.
Gabriel stared at it.
"Could be a trap."
"It is," Alexander said.
"How do you know?"
"Because the warehouse is still sealed."
Police voices grew louder.
"Emily Carter?"
Maria looked down the corridor.
Two officers appeared.
"Emily Carter?"
My father and Daniel climbed into the SUV.
The engine started.
I looked at Gabriel.
"Take the laptop."
Maria whispered, "What are you doing?"
"Buying time."
I raised my hands as the officers approached.
"I'm Emily."
One officer stepped forward.
"We need to speak with you regarding tonight's fire."
"I'm injured."
"We understand."
"Am I under arrest?"
The officers exchanged a glance.
"Not at this moment."
Not at this moment.
Alexander stepped beside me.
"I'm her husband."
I looked at him.
"No."
He stopped.
"I'm her husband legally."
"Not for long."
The officer asked everyone to remain where they were.
Behind him, the SUV disappeared up the garage ramp.
Daniel escaped.
My father escaped.
And somehow I was the person police wanted.
For the next hour, I told them everything I could without revealing where Gabriel had stored the footage.
The officers took the memory card.
They photographed my injuries.
They asked why Joyce claimed I hated her.
They asked about money.
They asked about the trust.
That interested them.
Especially when Rebecca joined by phone and confirmed the suspicious transfer.
By dawn, they didn't arrest me.
But they didn't clear me either.
The officers left with one warning.
"Don't leave Chicago."
I laughed.
"Wasn't planning to."
My mother waited until they were gone.
"We need Marcus."
Alexander shook his head.
"No."
"He has the original recording."
"Or whoever has his phone wants us to believe that."
Gabriel checked the message metadata.
"Sent from his device."
"That doesn't mean he sent it."
My mother looked at me.
"Your decision."
Everyone waited.
For once, it actually was.
"Call him."
Gabriel did.
Speakerphone.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Then someone answered.
Breathing.
"Marcus?"
Nothing.
"Marcus, it's Emily."
A whisper.
"Don't come."
I leaned closer.
"Where are you?"
"Warehouse."
"Are you alone?"
Silence.
Then:
"No."
A crash sounded.
Marcus gasped.
The line went dead.
We stared at the phone.
Gabriel immediately checked the location.
"It's the warehouse."
My mother shook her head.
"Too dangerous."
I looked at Alexander.
"Can you get us inside?"
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
"I still have the venue access code."
An hour later, against every medical recommendation Maria could make, I signed myself out.
She came with us anyway.
The warehouse looked like a corpse in morning light.
Blackened brick.
Broken windows.
Yellow investigation tape.
My mother pushed my wheelchair through the side entrance.
Alexander entered first.
Gabriel followed with the laptop.
The smell hit me immediately.
Smoke.
Wet ash.
Gasoline.
I started shaking.
Alexander noticed.
He reached toward me.
I pulled away.
"Don't."
He lowered his hand.
We moved deeper inside.
Past the ruined reception tables.
Past the chandelier lying shattered across the floor.
Then toward Storage 4B.
The door stood open.
Marcus's phone lay on the floor.
No Marcus.
Gabriel picked it up.
The screen was cracked.
Then we heard something.
Three knocks.
From behind the west wall.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Alexander found a damaged service door hidden behind burned decorations.
He pulled it open.
A narrow corridor appeared.
At the end was another room.
Locked.
"Marcus?" I called.
No answer.
Gabriel found a metal bar.
Alexander forced the lock.
The door opened.
A chair stood in the center.
Ropes on the floor.
Blood on the concrete.
But Marcus was gone.
On the wall was a photograph.
My wedding portrait.
Someone had burned Alexander's face out of it.
Below it, written in black marker:
HE WAS NEVER THE GROOM.
My blood turned cold.
"What does that mean?" Gabriel whispered.
Then Marcus's abandoned phone rang.
Everyone froze.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
"Emily."
Joyce.
"Where are you?"
She laughed softly.
"You're still asking the wrong question."
"What question should I ask?"
"Ask Alexander why your marriage certificate has another man's name on the original."
I looked at him.
Alexander went pale.
"What is she talking about?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
Joyce whispered:
"Look inside the wall."
The call ended.
Gabriel examined the burned paneling.
One section was loose.
Alexander pulled it away.
Behind it was a metal lockbox.
The silver key from my hospital property bag fit perfectly.
I turned it.
Click.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And one sealed envelope.
MY DAUGHTER'S REAL MARRIAGE RECORD.
My mother's handwriting.
I opened it.
A certified marriage certificate slid into my hands.
My name was there.
Emily Carter.
The wedding date was yesterday.
But Alexander's name wasn't beside mine.
Another name was printed where my husband's should have been.
I read it once.
Then again.
My mother gasped behind me.
Alexander whispered, "That's impossible."
May you like
At the bottom of the certificate was the name of the man I had legally married.
Daniel Mercer.
