Chapter 4 - The Dead Chairman
Charles Mercer had been found unconscious in his study twelve minutes earlier.
By the time the paramedics arrived, he had no pulse.
The first call came from Charles's housekeeper.
The second came from his private physician.
The third went directly to Nathan.
That was the part Eleanor didn't understand.
“Why would they call you?”
Nathan's face was tense.
“Because Charles called me three days ago.”
Eleanor stared.
“You've been talking to him?”
“For two months.”
“Why?”
“He contacted us.”
Lucas stepped closer.
“He knew Adrian was moving money.”
“What money?”
“Company reserves.”
Eleanor felt another layer of her old life breaking open.
“How much?”
Nathan glanced at Lucas.
“Forty-eight million.”
Eleanor's chest tightened.
“Where?”
“Shell companies. Consulting contracts. Acquisition vehicles.”
Adrian had always handled the complicated financial side.
Eleanor sat on committees.
Approved budgets.
Attended board meetings.
But during pregnancy, Adrian increasingly encouraged her to “rest.”
He stopped forwarding financial packets.
He told assistants not to bother her.
She had believed him.
A sick feeling spread through her.
“He's been stealing?”
“We can't prove theft yet,” Lucas said. “But Charles believed Adrian was preparing to move enough money to force a restructuring.”
“And my signature?”
Nathan nodded.
“Would have given him the votes he needed.”
Eleanor looked back toward the ballroom.
“He knew his father was investigating him.”
“Yes.”
“And now Charles is dead.”
Caleb said quietly, “We don't know what happened.”
They left the hotel immediately.
Nathan's driver took Eleanor and her brothers to Mercy General.
Vanessa followed in another car with Martin Vale.
Adrian arrived separately.
By the time Eleanor reached the private emergency entrance, Charles Mercer had officially been pronounced dead.
Adrian stood in the hall.
He wasn't crying.
That didn't mean anything.
Grief looked different on everyone.
But Eleanor knew Adrian's faces.
This one was calculation.
A doctor approached.
“Mrs. Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Dr. Han.”
Eleanor shook his hand.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“We suspect a cardiac event. Mr. Mercer had a known arrhythmia.”
Adrian exhaled.
“So heart attack.”
“Possibly.”
Nathan asked, “Possibly?”
Dr. Han glanced at Adrian.
“There were unusual circumstances.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
The doctor chose his words carefully.
“Mr. Mercer had recently changed medications. We found evidence of a dosage discrepancy.”
Eleanor's skin prickled.
“What kind?”
“A sedative prescription.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“My father didn't take sedatives.”
Dr. Han looked at him.
“Apparently he did tonight.”
The hallway went silent.
Nathan said, “Who prescribed it?”
“Dr. Feldman.”
Adrian laughed sharply.
“That's impossible. Feldman retired last year.”
Dr. Han didn't answer.
Eleanor looked at Adrian.
“You knew that quickly.”
He turned.
“What?”
“You knew Feldman retired.”
“He was my father's doctor for fifteen years.”
Nathan's eyes hardened.
Dr. Han continued.
“The police will likely request a toxicology report.”
Adrian's face tightened.
“Police?”
“Standard procedure under uncertain circumstances.”
“Nothing is uncertain. He had a bad heart.”
Dr. Han looked uncomfortable.
“We will know more after examination.”
Adrian walked away.
Eleanor watched him.
Then she noticed Vanessa standing near the elevators.
Her face was pale.
She was staring at Adrian.
Eleanor approached.
“What?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
Vanessa looked at Nathan.
Then Caleb.
Then Eleanor.
“Adrian had dinner with Charles tonight.”
Eleanor's pulse jumped.
“What time?”
“Around six.”
“How do you know?”
“He called me afterward.”
“What did he say?”
Vanessa's mouth trembled.
“That it was done.”
Nathan stepped closer.
“Exact words?”
She nodded.
“He said, ‘It's done. Tomorrow everything changes.’”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
It could mean anything.
The board vote.
The documents.
A business deal.
Anything.
But now Charles was dead.
Adrian returned.
He saw Vanessa speaking to them.
His expression turned dangerous.
“What are you doing?”
Vanessa backed away.
Nathan stepped between them.
“Talking.”
“To my employee?”
“Former employee,” Vanessa said.
Adrian stared.
She straightened.
“I quit.”
“You don't get to quit tonight.”
She laughed softly.
“Watch me.”
Adrian looked at Eleanor.
“This is what you wanted?”
“What?”
“My father is dead, and you're staging some kind of family ambush.”
Eleanor flinched.
Nathan started forward.
Eleanor stopped him with a hand.
“No.”
She looked at Adrian.
“Did you see Charles tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Dinner.”
“About what?”
“Private family business.”
“I am family.”
“Not this.”
The words landed heavily.
Eleanor nodded.
“Did he accuse you of moving company funds?”
Adrian's face changed.
There.
A fraction.
But enough.
“Who told you that?”
“So he did.”
“Eleanor.”
“Did he?”
Adrian looked at Nathan.
“You've been poisoning her.”
Nathan said, “Answer.”
Adrian ignored him.
“My father was paranoid.”
“He was investigating forty-eight million dollars.”
“He was eighty-one.”
“He was seventy-four.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
A detective entered the hall.
“Adrian Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Detective Renee Foster. I need to ask you a few questions.”
Adrian looked annoyed.
“My father just died.”
“I understand.”
“Then show some respect.”
“I am.”
She looked at Eleanor.
“Mrs. Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Were you with Mr. Mercer senior tonight?”
“No.”
“Was anyone here with him?”
Eleanor looked at Adrian.
“Yes.”
Adrian turned sharply.
Detective Foster's eyes followed.
“Who?”
“His son.”
Adrian laughed.
“I already told the doctor that.”
The detective nodded.
“What time did you leave his residence?”
“Six forty-five.”
“Anyone see you leave?”
“My driver.”
Vanessa's voice came from behind them.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
Adrian stared.
Vanessa looked terrified.
But she continued.
“You didn't use your driver.”
Adrian's face hardened.
“What?”
“You told me you took the Bentley yourself.”
Detective Foster looked at Adrian.
“Is that true?”
He said nothing.
Eleanor watched the marriage she thought she understood disintegrate minute by minute.
Finally Adrian said, “I drove.”
“Why?”
“I wanted privacy.”
The detective wrote something down.
“Did you take anything to your father's house?”
“No.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Eleanor saw it.
“What?”
Vanessa whispered, “The wine.”
Adrian turned.
“Shut up.”
Detective Foster looked up.
“What wine?”
Vanessa's breathing quickened.
“A bottle. Adrian asked me to pick it up yesterday.”
“Where?”
“Private cellar store on Ashbury.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know. Old.”
Adrian said, “It was a gift.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“You said it was to celebrate tomorrow.”
Nathan's expression sharpened.
Detective Foster wrote again.
“Mr. Mercer, I'm going to ask you to remain available.”
Adrian laughed.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No.”
“Then I'm leaving.”
He walked toward the elevator.
The detective didn't stop him.
But she watched him.
So did everyone else.
The elevator doors closed.
Eleanor exhaled.
Nathan touched her shoulder.
“You need somewhere safe tonight.”
“I have a house.”
“Adrian has access.”
“It's my home.”
“Not tonight.”
Eleanor looked at her brothers.
“Where?”
Caleb answered.
“Our place.”
“Our?”
Lucas smiled faintly.
“We bought the old family house back.”
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“You what?”
“Two years ago.”
“Why?”
Caleb looked at her.
“Because some doors should stay unlocked.”
That nearly broke her again.
They left the hospital at 1:08 a.m.
The old Bennett house stood forty minutes outside the city.
Eleanor had not crossed its threshold in seven years.
As Nathan's car turned onto the familiar street, she saw the porch light glowing.
She started crying before the car stopped.
Lucas opened her door.
Eleanor stepped onto the sidewalk.
The house looked smaller than she remembered.
But the porch.
The maple tree.
The upstairs window that had once been hers.
All remained.
Nathan unlocked the door.
Eleanor entered slowly.
Family photographs lined the hallway.
Her brothers had not erased her.
There she was at sixteen.
At graduation.
At twenty-one.
At Christmas.
Then the photographs stopped.
Seven years ago.
Eleanor touched one frame.
Behind her, Caleb said, “Your room's still upstairs.”
She laughed through tears.
“You kept it?”
“No.”
A pause.
“We rebuilt it.”
She turned.
He smiled.
“Come see.”
They climbed the stairs.
Nathan opened the door.
Eleanor stepped inside.
It wasn't a child's room.
It was calm.
Simple.
Fresh linens.
A reading chair.
A small crib in the corner.
Eleanor stared.
“Why is there a crib?”
Nobody answered.
She turned.
Nathan looked guilty.
Lucas looked at Caleb.
Caleb sighed.
“We hoped.”
Eleanor covered her face.
She cried then.
Not elegantly.
Not quietly.
Seven years came out at once.
Her brothers stayed.
Nobody told her to calm down.
Nobody told her she was dramatic.
Nobody told her she was embarrassing anyone.
Eventually, she slept.
At 4:13 a.m., her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
Eleanor almost ignored it.
Then she saw the message.
DON'T TRUST YOUR BROTHERS.
A second message arrived.
ASK NATHAN WHAT CHARLES PAID HIM.
Then a photograph appeared.
May you like
Nathan and Charles Mercer sitting together inside a private bank office.
Between them lay a document bearing Eleanor's name.
