Chapter 3 - Rachel's Sister
The woman standing outside Emily's hospital room looked as if she had spent eleven years waiting for this exact moment.
She was in her early forties.
Dark coat.
Brown hair streaked with gray.
No makeup.
No hesitation.
Her eyes dropped to the bracelet around her wrist.
Then to the envelope in my hand.
"My name is Anna Monroe."
The surname hit me immediately.
"Rachel?"
"My sister."
Before I could speak, the officer Marcus had sent rounded the corner.
"Sir, step away from the visitor."
Anna raised both hands.
"I'm not here to cause trouble."
The officer approached.
"Identification."
She handed him her driver's license.
I called Marcus.
This time he answered.
"Hale."
"Rachel Monroe's sister is standing outside Emily's room."
Silence.
"Do not let her leave."
Anna heard.
"I wasn't planning to."
Twenty minutes later, we sat in a private consultation room.
Marcus arrived with another detective.
Emily remained under observation with the hospital officer stationed nearby.
Anna sat opposite us.
Marcus placed the bracelet photograph on the table.
"Your sister owned this?"
Anna studied it.
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"Because I gave it to her."
"What do the letters mean?"
"Rachel Marie Cole."
I frowned.
"Her last name was Monroe."
"After her divorce."
Anna looked at me.
"Cole was her married name."
Officer Ryan Cole.
The same officer who had opened the shed.
Marcus apparently had the same thought.
"Who was her husband?"
"Thomas Cole."
"Any relation to Officer Ryan Cole?"
Anna shook her head.
"Not that I know of."
Marcus made a note.
"Why did you contact Daniel anonymously?"
"I didn't."
I held up the phone.
"Someone sent me photographs."
"Not me."
"Then how did you know I was here?"
Anna reached into her purse slowly.
The officer tensed.
She pulled out an old envelope.
"I received this yesterday."
She pushed it across the table.
My name was written inside.
Daniel Mercer.
The outside had no return address.
"When was it mailed?"
"Two days ago."
"From where?"
"Local postmark."
Marcus opened it.
Inside was a photocopy of my father's handwriting.
IF DANIEL EVER FINDS THE SHED, GIVE HIM THE KEY.
Underneath was an address.
My hospital.
I stared at Anna.
"This was written eleven years ago?"
"No."
"How do you know?"
"Because the paper is new."
Marcus's expression sharpened.
"Meaning someone copied an old message and mailed it now."
Anna nodded.
"Someone knew Daniel was going to find the shed before he found it."
That sentence changed the room.
My early return had been spontaneous.
Nobody knew.
Except the airline.
My assistant.
And perhaps Emily, if she'd had her phone.
But she hadn't.
Marcus leaned forward.
"Tell us about Rachel."
Anna folded her hands.
"She worked for Mercer Development."
"My father hired her?"
"Yes."
"For accounting?"
"Internal auditing."
I knew enough about my father's company to understand the difference.
"Why did he need an internal auditor?"
"Because he suspected money was disappearing."
"Who was taking it?"
Anna looked at me.
"Your mother."
I stood.
Marcus raised a hand.
"Let her finish."
Anna continued.
"Rachel found payments moving through shell companies. Construction invoices for projects that didn't exist. Land purchases at inflated values. Your father discovered Margaret had been moving money for years."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"How much?"
"Millions."
I couldn't reconcile it.
My mother had come from money.
She had never needed to steal.
"You're saying Rachel discovered fraud."
"Yes."
"And then she disappeared."
Anna nodded.
"Your father called me the night before he died."
The room became very still.
"What did he say?"
"He said Rachel was alive."
My breath caught.
"Alive where?"
"He wouldn't tell me."
"Why?"
"He said it wasn't safe."
"Did you tell police?"
"Of course."
"What happened?"
"They said he was distraught. Then his car went off the road the next night. After that, nobody believed anything he had told me."
Marcus asked, "Did Rachel ever contact you after disappearing?"
Anna's eyes filled.
"Once."
"When?"
"Six months later."
My heart hammered.
"How?"
"A postcard."
"From where?"
"No return address."
"What did it say?"
Anna looked at me.
"Tell Daniel his father tried."
I couldn't speak.
"Do you still have it?" Marcus asked.
"Yes."
"We'll need it."
"I brought it."
She handed over another envelope.
Marcus placed it carefully aside.
"What about Cabin 17?"
Anna looked confused.
"I don't know anything about a cabin."
I showed her the key.
"This was left outside my wife's room."
Her face changed.
"That's not from me."
"Then who?"
"I don't know."
Marcus stood.
"Nobody is going to that cabin alone."
"I am."
"No."
"My father's message—"
"Could be bait."
"He died eleven years ago."
"Exactly."
He pointed at the key.
"Someone wants you moving according to instructions. We don't know who."
I hated that he was right.
Later that afternoon, Emily was cleared to go home.
But home was a crime scene.
Marcus recommended we stay somewhere else.
I booked a suite at a hotel downtown.
Anna left under instructions not to contact me directly.
My mother remained in custody pending arraignment.
I hadn't spoken to her.
I didn't want to.
At 8:40 p.m., Marcus called.
"We checked Cabin 17."
I stood at the hotel window.
"And?"
"The property still exists."
"But my mother said it burned down."
"One structure burned. Another cabin was built on the same parcel."
"Who owns it?"
He paused.
"A trust."
"What trust?"
"Monroe Holdings."
I turned from the window.
"Rachel?"
"We don't know."
"Are you going there?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"I'm coming."
"Daniel—"
"My father's letter sent me there."
He sighed.
"Fine. But you follow instructions."
Emily sat on the bed listening.
When I hung up, she said, "I'm coming too."
"No."
"Daniel."
"You were in a hospital twelve hours ago."
"And I'm not staying alone."
We compromised.
She would remain at the hotel with a police officer.
I would go with Marcus.
At 7:00 the next morning, we drove ninety minutes north.
Cabin 17 sat behind an iron gate in a wooded area.
The brass key opened it.
Nobody spoke.
Marcus entered first.
The interior was dusty but intact.
Old furniture.
Stone fireplace.
A small kitchen.
Nothing obvious.
Then Marcus noticed scratches on the floor beneath a bookcase.
We moved it.
Behind it was a narrow steel door.
Another keyhole.
The brass key fit.
Marcus opened it.
A staircase descended underground.
Cold air rose from below.
We went down.
At the bottom was a small room.
Desk.
Filing cabinet.
Tape recorder.
And dozens of boxes.
Marcus opened the first.
Financial records.
The second contained photographs.
The third contained cassette tapes labeled with dates.
All from the months before my father's death.
I picked up one tape.
It had my name on it.
DANIEL — IF I DON'T COME BACK.
Marcus stared at me.
"We need to process this properly."
"That's my father's voice."
"We don't know what's on it."
"We're going to find out."
A technician set up the recorder.
The tape clicked.
Static.
Then my father's voice filled the underground room.
"Daniel, if you're listening to this, I failed to protect you from something I should have stopped years ago."
My knees weakened.
He continued.
"Your mother is involved, but Margaret is not the person I'm most afraid of."
Marcus looked at me.
The recording crackled.
"Rachel discovered who has been using our company to move money."
A long pause.
Then my father said:
"The person behind it is someone Daniel trusts."
The tape stopped.
Marcus checked the machine.
"That's it?"
A technician opened the cassette.
"The tape was cut."
Someone had physically removed the rest.
Then we heard footsteps upstairs.
Marcus drew his weapon.
"Police! Identify yourself!"
No answer.
Another step.
Then the cabin door slammed.
Marcus ran upstairs.
I followed.
Outside, a black SUV accelerated away.
One of the officers shouted the plate number.
Marcus looked toward the cabin.
Then I noticed something on the hood of our vehicle.
A photograph.
Freshly placed.
It showed Emily leaving the hospital the previous day.
A red circle had been drawn around her stomach.
May you like
On the back was one sentence:
YOUR FATHER COULDN'T PROTECT HIS FAMILY EITHER.
