Chapter 2 - The Envelope in My Locker
The woman stopped when she saw the photograph.
Her name was Denise Holloway.
She had been Charles Mercer's executive assistant for eleven years.
And she looked terrified.
"Where did you get that?"
I held Daniel closer.
"It was in my locker."
Denise glanced behind her.
"Put it away."
Evelyn stepped between us.
"Why?"
Denise's eyes moved toward Charles, who was still inside the auditorium surrounded by board members.
"Because if Charles knows you have it, you're not the only one in trouble."
Evelyn went still.
"Denise, what happened the night Andrew died?"
"I can't do this here."
"You've worked for my husband for eleven years."
"Twelve."
"Then answer me."
Denise swallowed.
"I tried once."
Evelyn frowned.
"When?"
"The morning after Andrew died."
The hallway seemed to narrow around us.
Students and families passed nearby, taking photographs, laughing, hugging.
Nobody knew three women were standing beside a trophy case talking about a dead boy and a billionaire who had built half their town.
Denise looked at me.
"Andrew came to the foundation office that night."
"Why?"
"Because of you."
I felt cold.
She told us Andrew had discovered something inside the Mercer Educational Foundation.
The foundation funded scholarships, tutoring programs, school technology, and grants for low-income students.
At least publicly.
Andrew had found payments to Northbridge Consulting.
Dozens of them.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars.
"What was Northbridge?" I asked.
"A shell company."
Evelyn stared at her.
"For what?"
Denise lowered her voice.
"To move money."
Andrew had confronted Charles.
Not just about money.
About me.
Charles had learned I was pregnant.
Andrew refused to end our relationship.
He intended to acknowledge the baby publicly.
He also intended to take the financial records to an attorney.
"Andrew called me at 10:31," Denise said.
I stopped breathing.
"I didn't answer. I was driving."
"What happened at 10:42?"
Denise looked at the photograph.
"That was when Andrew left the garage."
"With Charles?"
"No."
"Then why is Charles in the picture?"
"Because they had been arguing."
Evelyn's voice sharpened.
"Did Charles hurt him?"
"No. Not physically. I never saw that."
Relief and dread arrived together.
Denise continued.
"Andrew drove away. Charles stayed."
"Then how did Andrew crash?"
"I don't know."
That answer felt incomplete.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"I did."
We stared at her.
"They said the crash was caused by excessive speed."
"But you told them about the argument?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"They interviewed Charles."
Evelyn gave a bitter laugh.
"I never knew."
Denise looked ashamed.
"The next morning Charles called me into his office. He knew exactly what I'd told them."
"What did he do?"
"He reminded me that my husband was sick. That our health insurance came through Mercer Development. That my daughter's tuition assistance came through the foundation."
"He threatened you."
"He never used the word threat."
Men like Charles rarely did.
They didn't need to.
Denise looked at Daniel.
"Andrew wasn't afraid of his father until those last few weeks."
I remembered that.
Andrew checking mirrors.
Changing where we met.
Telling me not to text anything important.
I'd thought he was protecting me from gossip.
Now I wondered what else he'd known.
"Who mailed me the first envelope?" I asked.
Denise shook her head.
"Not me."
"Who put this photograph in my locker?"
Again, no.
Evelyn folded her arms.
"Someone is helping her."
"Or using her," Denise said.
That possibility chilled me.
Mom found us moments later.
She saw Denise and immediately stiffened.
"You."
Denise's face changed.
They knew each other.
"Mom?"
Rachel looked at me.
"We're leaving."
"How do you know Denise?"
"Emma."
"Tell me."
Denise answered.
"We worked together."
I stared at my mother.
Mom had cleaned offices at Mercer Development when I was younger.
At least, that was what she'd told me.
"Doing what?"
Mom's face tightened.
"Accounting."
Another secret.
We left the school through a side exit.
Evelyn insisted on coming.
Denise followed separately.
We drove to our small duplex across town.
The moment we entered, Mom locked the door.
Daniel needed feeding.
The ordinary need grounded me.
While billionaires and secrets threatened to swallow my life, my son simply wanted milk.
I sat on the couch with him.
Evelyn remained across the room.
She kept looking at Daniel.
Finally I asked, "Would you like to hold him?"
Her eyes filled.
"May I?"
I placed him carefully in her arms.
The transformation was immediate.
Her shoulders softened.
She stared at his face.
"Andrew looked exactly like this when he slept."
Mom turned away.
I saw her wipe her eyes.
For ten minutes nobody discussed money or death.
Evelyn held her grandson.
Then Daniel woke and made a tiny offended noise.
She laughed through tears.
It sounded like grief remembering how to breathe.
Afterward, Mom brought out a metal box.
I had seen it before.
She kept tax papers inside.
Or so I'd thought.
She placed it on the kitchen table.
"I hoped I would never have to open this."
Inside were foundation records.
Old ones.
Evelyn sat down.
"What are these?"
"Copies."
Mom had worked as a junior accountant for Mercer Development six years earlier.
She noticed unusual transfers from charitable accounts.
When she questioned them, she was fired.
Charles personally signed the termination.
"Why didn't you report it?"
"I did."
"To whom?"
"A board member."
"Who?"
"Robert Vance."
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Robert Vance was Charles's closest friend.
Of course.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. Two weeks later I received a letter accusing me of mishandling company records. They said if I continued making allegations, they'd sue."
Mom had been raising me alone.
We had no money for lawyers.
So she stopped.
But she kept copies.
I looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me when I started dating Andrew?"
"I didn't know who he was at first."
"And when you did?"
"I begged you to stay away."
I remembered.
I thought she hated the Mercers because they were rich.
It had been more complicated.
"Andrew knew about these?"
"Eventually."
Mom looked at me.
"You told him I'd worked for his father. He came to see me."
That hurt.
"You met with him without telling me?"
"Once."
She gave Andrew copies.
He began investigating.
Suddenly the timeline became clear.
Andrew discovered the transfers.
Charles discovered Andrew knew.
Then Charles discovered I was pregnant.
Everything collided.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Emma Carter?"
"Yes."
A man's voice.
"My name is Thomas Reed. I'm an attorney."
I put him on speaker.
Evelyn looked at me.
"How did you get my number?"
"Andrew Mercer gave it to my office."
Nobody moved.
"When?"
"Nine months ago."
My heart hammered.
Thomas explained that Andrew had contacted him regarding a confidential matter.
He had left documents under instructions that they be released if certain conditions occurred.
"What conditions?"
"His death, followed by any attempt to prevent you from completing high school or receiving your diploma."
I looked at Mom.
Charles had tried both.
He pressured the school to move me into an alternative program after my pregnancy became visible.
Principal Harris resisted.
Andrew had anticipated it.
"What documents?"
"I can't discuss them by phone."
"Why contact me today?"
"Because someone sent my office a recording of your graduation speech."
Already.
The internet moved fast.
Thomas continued.
"Andrew's instructions are now active."
Evelyn leaned toward the phone.
"This is Evelyn Mercer."
A pause.
"Mrs. Mercer."
"What did my son leave?"
"I think you should hear that directly from him."
Her face drained.
"What does that mean?"
"Andrew recorded a statement."
Nobody spoke.
Thomas gave us an address.
His office was forty minutes away.
We agreed to meet that evening.
Then someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Mom looked through the peephole.
Her face changed.
"Charles."
Evelyn stood.
"Let him in."
"No," I said.
She looked at me.
"This is my house."
Mom nodded.
"And he's not entering it."
Charles knocked again.
"Emma," he called through the door. "We need to talk."
I stayed silent.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
DON'T GO TO THE LAWYER.
Another arrived.
ANDREW TRUSTED THE WRONG PERSON.
Then a third.
THE MAN WAITING FOR YOU ISN'T THOMAS REED.
I stared at the screen.
Outside, Charles knocked again.
May you like
Inside, Evelyn read the message over my shoulder.
Then someone tried the back door.
