Chapter 3 - The Photograph Taken Yesterday
Irene gripped the porch railing.
"That's impossible."
Reed held up his phone.
The image showed Daniel Mercer walking beside a marina warehouse.
The date stamp read yesterday.
Daniel had been dead eleven months.
At least that was what Irene had believed.
She enlarged the photograph until the face filled the screen.
Gray hair.
Broad shoulders.
The old scar beside his left eyebrow.
It looked exactly like him.
Sarah whispered, "I knew it."
Irene turned sharply.
"You knew what?"
Sarah's expression collapsed.
"I didn't know for sure."
"What does that mean?"
"Mom—"
"What does that mean?"
Sarah looked toward the officers.
Reed said, "We need everyone inside."
Dean remained separated under police supervision while Irene, Sarah, and Reed moved into the living room.
The door stayed locked.
Irene placed Daniel's notebook on the coffee table.
Her tea from earlier was still there.
Cold now.
Like the rest of the morning.
"Talk," Irene said.
Sarah sat on the edge of a chair.
She no longer looked like the furious woman who had pounded on the door.
She looked eight years old.
Guilty.
Afraid.
"Dad called me three days before he died," she began. "He asked me to meet him at a diner near the highway."
"Why didn't he meet you here?"
"He said he couldn't."
"Why?"
"He thought someone was watching him."
"Walter?"
Sarah nodded.
"He didn't say Walter's name at first."
Reed opened his notebook.
"What did Daniel tell you?"
Sarah rubbed her palms together.
"He said money had been disappearing from the company for years. Not enough at once to trigger alarms. Small amounts moved through vendors that looked legitimate."
"Shell companies?" Reed asked.
"I guess."
"And the account using your initials?"
"Dad created it as a trap."
Irene stared.
"A trap?"
"He moved money into an account labeled with my initials because he thought Walter was monitoring him. He wanted Walter to think Dad was hiding money for me."
"And Walter took the bait," Reed said.
Sarah nodded.
"Dad said if Walter ever came asking me about an inheritance, I was supposed to call a lawyer named Rebecca Lane."
Irene had never heard the name.
"Did you?"
Sarah shook her head.
"Why not?"
"Because Walter contacted me first."
Irene shut her eyes briefly.
Of course.
Walter knew Sarah.
He knew her resentment toward the trust.
He knew exactly which wound to press.
"What did he tell you?"
"That Dad stole from me."
Irene looked at her daughter with disbelief.
"And you believed him?"
"Dad controlled everything. My trust. My money. My mistakes. You always defended him."
"That does not explain hitting me."
Sarah's mouth trembled.
"No."
"Say it."
"Mom."
"Say what you did."
Sarah looked down.
"I hit you."
"You knocked me unconscious."
"Yes."
"You robbed me."
Sarah's voice broke.
"Yes."
Irene felt tears behind her eyes.
She refused to release them.
Not yet.
"Why?"
"Walter said the notebook contained proof Dad had hidden my inheritance. He told me you knew."
"I knew nothing."
"I know that now."
"You could have asked me."
"I thought you'd protect Dad again."
"Your father was dead."
Sarah looked at the photograph on Reed's phone.
"Maybe not."
Silence filled the room.
Irene couldn't accept that.
She had seen Daniel's body.
Hadn't she?
She had gone to the hospital after his heart attack.
He was covered to the shoulders.
His face had looked strangely pale and swollen.
She touched his cheek.
Kissed his forehead.
Signed paperwork.
The funeral happened four days later.
Closed casket because the funeral director recommended it after "postmortem complications."
At the time, Irene barely functioned.
Walter had handled nearly everything.
Walter chose the funeral home.
Walter arranged transportation.
Walter contacted Daniel's business partners.
Walter stood beside Irene as she buried her husband.
Her stomach turned.
"Reed."
"Yes?"
"Can a death be staged?"
He studied her.
"Yes."
"Could I have seen the wrong body?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Under certain circumstances."
Sarah whispered, "Dad told me he might have to disappear."
Irene looked at her.
Now the tears came.
"You knew."
"I knew he was afraid. I didn't know he actually did it."
"You let me mourn him."
"I thought he was dead!"
"You knew he talked about disappearing!"
"He made me promise not to tell anyone."
"I am your mother."
"I know."
"No, Sarah. I don't think you do."
Reed intervened gently.
"We need to verify the photograph."
He sent it to a forensic unit.
Then he questioned Sarah about Walter.
The timeline grew uglier.
Two months after Daniel's death, Walter approached Sarah.
He claimed Daniel had moved millions into secret accounts.
He showed her partial statements.
He said Irene inherited everything only because Daniel manipulated the will.
Sarah was already angry over the trust.
Walter fed that anger.
Then last month he told Sarah the black notebook contained account credentials.
"Did he tell you to assault your mother?" Reed asked.
"No."
"Did he tell you to steal?"
"He said it belonged to me."
"That wasn't my question."
Sarah looked ashamed.
"No. He told me to get the notebook."
"But you took $180,000."
Sarah nodded.
"And cards."
Another nod.
"And then flew to Cabo."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I panicked."
Irene gave a humorless laugh.
"You celebrated."
Sarah looked at her.
"Mom—"
"You bought first-class tickets."
"Dean booked them."
"With my card."
Sarah lowered her eyes.
Reed's phone buzzed.
The forensic analyst could not confirm the date metadata was genuine.
But facial comparison produced a strong likelihood.
The man in the photograph appeared to be Daniel Mercer.
Alive.
Reed arranged surveillance at the marina warehouse.
He also called the county medical examiner regarding Daniel's death records.
Twenty minutes later, another problem emerged.
Daniel Mercer's autopsy file did not exist.
Irene stared at Reed.
"He died of a heart attack."
"That's what the hospital death certificate says."
"Then why would there be an autopsy?"
"There might not be. But here's the issue."
He rotated his laptop toward her.
"The physician who signed the certificate was Dr. Paul Keller."
Irene remembered the name.
"What about him?"
"He left the hospital two weeks after Daniel died."
"Where did he go?"
"No forwarding employer listed."
Sarah whispered, "Walter paid him."
Reed held up a hand.
"We don't know that."
Irene looked at Daniel's notebook again.
Numbers.
Initials.
Dates.
Maybe somewhere among them was the answer.
She began turning pages.
One page contained a phrase rather than figures.
BENEATH THE FLOOR.
She stopped.
"Reed."
He leaned closer.
"What?"
She showed him.
Beneath the floor.
Underneath, Daniel had drawn a rectangle divided into six smaller boxes.
Sarah stood.
"I know that."
Irene looked at her.
"What is it?"
"Dad's old warehouse office."
Daniel's original company headquarters had been vacant for three years after operations moved across town.
There was a small office overlooking the loading floor.
Wooden floorboards.
Six sections beneath a built-in desk.
Reed immediately called for officers.
They drove there before noon.
The warehouse smelled of dust and machine oil.
Irene had not entered it in years.
Sarah remained in police custody but was permitted to accompany investigators because she identified the location.
They reached Daniel's office.
The desk still stood in the corner.
Reed pried up the fourth floorboard.
Nothing.
Then the fifth.
A metal box.
Irene's pulse accelerated.
Inside were three USB drives.
A passport photograph of Daniel.
An envelope addressed to IRENE.
And a small digital recorder.
Irene reached for the envelope.
Reed stopped her.
"Let us document it first."
After photographs, he handed it to her.
The handwriting was Daniel's.
Her fingers trembled.
She opened it.
Inside was one sentence.
If Walter tells you I am dead, do not believe him.
Irene stopped breathing.
Sarah covered her mouth.
Reed picked up the digital recorder.
Its battery was dead.
An officer found a charging cable.
A red light appeared.
Reed pressed play.
Static.
Then Daniel's voice.
"Irene, if you're hearing this, something went wrong."
Her knees nearly failed.
The recording continued.
"I can't explain everything here. Walter has been stealing for years, but he isn't working alone."
Sarah whispered, "Oh my God."
Daniel's voice became lower.
"The person helping him is someone inside our family."
Irene felt Sarah looking at her.
Then the recording crackled.
Another voice appeared in the background.
A woman's voice.
Daniel abruptly stopped speaking.
The recording ended.
Reed replayed the final seconds.
The woman spoke only three words.
But Irene recognized her immediately.
Her younger sister.
Elaine.
May you like
And the three words were:
"Daniel, she's here."
