Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Black Dress
Julian reached for the photograph.
I pulled it away.
"Where is this?"
He stared at the address.
"Evelyn, give me that."
"No."
Guests were whispering.
Vanessa remained motionless across the ballroom.
"What is that?" I asked.
Julian looked around.
"This isn't the place."
"Then tell me somewhere else."
He grabbed my elbow.
Not violently.
But firmly enough that I noticed.
So did everyone near us.
I looked down at his hand.
"Take your hand off me."
He released me immediately.
The public mask returned.
"Please."
I handed the microphone to the coordinator.
The anniversary celebration had effectively ended.
Julian followed me into a private hallway.
Vanessa followed him.
The moment he saw her, fury crossed his face.
"You."
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Hello, Julian."
"What are you doing here?"
"Watching your plan collapse."
His eyes snapped toward me.
"What did she tell you?"
"Enough."
"You have no idea what you're doing."
"I stopped you from getting eighteen million dollars. I understand that part."
Julian laughed nervously.
"This is insane."
"Did you forge my signature?"
Silence.
Vanessa watched him.
Julian's face changed.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
That was answer enough.
I showed him the photograph.
"Address."
His eyes lowered.
"It's an old office."
"Whose?"
"My father's."
I froze.
Julian rarely spoke about his father.
Richard Mercer had died before Julian and I met.
Or so Julian had always told me.
"What does your father have to do with mine?"
"Nothing."
"Then why was Dad photographed there?"
Julian said nothing.
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Tell her."
"Stay out of this."
"You told me Richard Mercer died in 2004."
"He did."
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Then why did you receive an email from him last month?"
Julian went white.
I looked between them.
"What?"
Vanessa pulled out her phone.
"I saw it on his laptop."
She showed me a screenshot.
FROM: R. MERCER.
Subject:
ARTHUR'S DAUGHTER.
My heart slammed.
Julian grabbed for the phone.
Vanessa moved away.
"Stop."
I stared at him.
"Your father is alive?"
"No."
"Then explain the email."
"It's complicated."
"Make it simple."
He looked toward the ballroom.
Guests had begun leaving.
The carefully staged anniversary of the year was dissolving behind him.
Finally, Julian whispered:
"Richard Mercer isn't my biological father."
"Then who is he?"
"The man who raised me."
"Alive or dead?"
Julian closed his eyes.
"Alive."
Ten years.
Ten years of marriage.
And I had never known.
"Why lie?"
"Because Richard disappeared."
"From whom?"
Julian looked at me.
"Your father."
That sentence changed everything.
My father and Julian's father had known each other.
Margaret hadn't mentioned it.
Dad hadn't mentioned it.
"How?"
Julian refused to answer.
I held up the photograph.
"Is this his address?"
"Used to be."
"Then we're going."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because whoever sent that doesn't want to help you."
"How would you know?"
He didn't answer.
Vanessa did.
"Because Julian received one too."
She opened another photograph on her phone.
Same handwriting.
Different message.
KEEP HER AWAY FROM RICHARD.
I stared at Julian.
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"And you said nothing."
"I was protecting you."
I laughed.
"You shaved my head while I slept."
His face tightened.
"That was stupid."
"No. It was honest."
I stepped closer.
"That was the first honest thing you've done in years."
He looked away.
I left.
Vanessa followed me.
We reached the elevator.
"Evelyn."
I turned.
"Don't mistake this for friendship."
"I don't."
"Good."
"But I know where that address is."
"So do I."
"No. I mean I was there."
The elevator doors opened.
I didn't move.
"When?"
"Three months ago."
"With Julian?"
She nodded.
"What happened?"
"Nobody was supposed to be inside."
"And?"
"Somebody was."
"Who?"
Vanessa's face went pale.
"I never saw his face."
"Then what did you see?"
"A photograph."
"Of what?"
"You."
The elevator doors began closing.
I stopped them.
"Me?"
"You were about seven years old."
My chest tightened.
"Where?"
"Standing beside your father."
"That's not strange."
"The third person was."
"Who?"
Vanessa looked past me.
Julian was coming down the hallway.
She whispered:
"Richard Mercer."
The elevator doors closed between us and Julian.
Thirty minutes later, Vanessa and I stood outside the address.
A narrow commercial building in Brooklyn.
Dark windows.
No sign.
The front door was locked.
Vanessa produced a key.
"Why do you have that?"
"Julian gave it to me."
Of course he did.
We entered.
Dust.
Old furniture.
File cabinets.
The air smelled unused.
Vanessa switched on her phone flashlight.
"This way."
We reached an office.
On the wall were photographs.
My father.
Richard Mercer.
And me.
Dozens of them.
Childhood.
College.
My wedding.
My father's funeral.
Someone had been documenting my life.
I stepped backward.
"What is this?"
Vanessa stared.
"There weren't this many before."
A desk stood beneath the photographs.
On it was an old answering machine.
One red light blinked.
NEW MESSAGE.
I pressed play.
Static.
Then a man's voice.
Older.
Weak.
"Evelyn, if you've found this office, Julian has already lost control."
My knees nearly buckled.
The voice continued.
"My name is Richard Mercer."
Vanessa grabbed my arm.
The message crackled.
"Your father and I made a mistake thirty years ago. Julian has spent his entire adult life trying to profit from it."
I leaned closer.
"Arthur tried to protect you. I tried too."
A noise came from behind us.
The office door slowly opened.
Someone stepped inside.
An elderly man stared directly at me.
Then he said:
"Evelyn?"
Vanessa gasped.
The man looked exactly like the younger Richard Mercer in the photographs.
May you like
He closed the door.
And behind him stood Margaret Cole.
