Chapter 4 - The Man Behind the Numbers
Emergency lights flickered on.
Daniel moved first.
“Marcus, nobody leaves.”
Rebecca grabbed his arm.
“Dad.”
“Stay with Aaron.”
He crossed the kitchen.
The phone kept ringing.
Curtis's office stood open.
Daniel entered.
A cheap prepaid phone vibrated inside the top desk drawer.
No caller name.
Only a number.
Daniel answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a distorted voice.
“You should have stayed retired, Mr. Mercer.”
The call ended.
Daniel stared at the phone.
Marcus appeared.
“Curtis is gone.”
“How?”
“Rear service exit.”
Daniel handed him the phone.
“Bag it. Don't touch anything else.”
The lights returned.
Rebecca entered despite Daniel's instruction.
“Someone used my credentials.”
“I know.”
“You believe me?”
Daniel looked at her.
The question hurt.
“Of course.”
Rebecca's shoulders dropped.
Aaron joined them.
“I need to explain how this happened.”
They moved to the private dining room.
For the first time since Daniel had arrived, the restaurant doors were locked.
Guests were politely told there had been a technical problem and their meals would be complimentary.
Luis approached Daniel before leaving.
“Mr. Mercer?”
Daniel turned.
Luis held out his gift card.
“Keep it.”
Daniel pushed it back.
“No.”
“I don't want—”
“Your daughter gave you lunch.”
Daniel nodded toward Marcus.
“And you're getting lunch.”
Marcus smiled.
Luis looked at the card.
Then Daniel.
“Okay.”
That one word mattered.
Daniel returned to Rebecca.
Aaron had spreadsheets open.
“The outreach account was created three years ago.”
“Before Curtis.”
“Yes.”
Daniel frowned.
“Then this didn't start with him.”
“No.”
Rebecca leaned toward the screen.
“Who created it?”
Aaron hesitated.
“Your former CFO.”
Daniel knew before the name appeared.
“Peter Walsh.”
Aaron nodded.
Peter had worked beside Daniel for nineteen years.
He had retired two years earlier after a stroke.
Daniel had visited him in rehabilitation.
Sent flowers.
Paid for a private nurse.
“Peter wouldn't steal.”
Aaron answered carefully.
“I'm not saying he did. I'm saying his credentials established the account.”
Rebecca pointed toward the transfers.
“And mine authorized payments later.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel sat back.
Someone had been collecting access.
Building layers.
Using trusted names.
Curtis might be part of it.
Or merely another piece.
“Trace every dollar.”
Aaron nodded.
“I already started.”
“And Curtis?”
Rebecca looked at Daniel.
“We call the police.”
“Yes.”
“But first,” Aaron said, “you need to see where the money went.”
He rotated the laptop.
Transfers from Mercer Community Outreach flowed into consulting companies.
Then property firms.
Then one final holding company.
Lakefront Hospitality Group.
Rebecca whispered, “I've heard that name.”
Daniel had too.
Six months earlier, Lakefront had offered to buy three Mercer locations.
Daniel refused.
Two months later, the offer doubled.
He refused again.
“Who owns it?”
Aaron clicked.
“That's what I'm trying to find.”
A knock came from the locked front door.
Brooke stood nearby.
Daniel nodded.
She opened it.
A woman entered.
Sixties.
Gray coat.
Leather briefcase.
Daniel recognized her after several seconds.
“Margaret?”
Margaret Ellis had been Hannah's attorney.
She had also handled the restaurant's original incorporation.
She looked at Daniel with an expression he could not read.
“Rebecca called me.”
Daniel turned toward his daughter.
“When?”
“On the way here.”
Margaret placed her briefcase on the table.
“I brought the original partnership documents.”
Daniel frowned.
“Partnership?”
“You never read all of Hannah's incorporation papers?”
“I signed whatever she told me to sign.”
Margaret almost smiled.
“That sounds like you.”
She opened the case.
Inside were documents Daniel had not seen in decades.
“Hannah owned fifty-one percent when Mercer’s Table was incorporated.”
“Until she died.”
“No.”
Daniel stared.
Margaret removed a document.
“Her shares transferred into a trust.”
“For Rebecca.”
“Partly.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret looked between them.
“Hannah was worried Daniel would sell the restaurant if she died.”
Daniel felt a painful smile.
“She knew me.”
“So she created a preservation clause.”
Margaret slid the document across.
“If Mercer’s Table abandoned certain founding obligations, control of the original flagship could revert.”
“To whom?” Rebecca asked.
Margaret's answer was quiet.
“To the Hannah Mercer Community Trust.”
Aaron suddenly looked at his laptop.
“Community.”
Everyone turned.
He typed rapidly.
Mercer Community Outreach.
Hannah Mercer Community Trust.
Different entities.
Similar names.
Someone had deliberately created confusion.
Aaron's fingers stopped.
“I found Lakefront's beneficial ownership filing.”
Daniel stood.
“Who?”
Aaron looked up.
“It's hidden behind three LLCs.”
“Keep going.”
“I did.”
The private dining room became silent.
Aaron turned the laptop.
One name appeared.
Peter Walsh.
Daniel stared.
Rebecca whispered, “Your CFO owns Lakefront?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Peter called me two months ago.”
Daniel's heart pounded.
“What did he say?”
“He said someone was using his identity.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“He asked me not to until he had proof.”
“Where is he?”
Margaret reached into her briefcase.
“He disappeared eleven days ago.”
She placed an envelope on the table.
“He mailed this to me the morning he vanished.”
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Curtis stood outside a bank.
Beside him was a man Daniel recognized instantly.
A man Daniel had trusted with nearly every expansion contract for fifteen years.
Rebecca saw him too.
“No.”
Daniel turned the photograph over.
Peter had written one sentence.
Daniel, if anything happens to me, look at who really owns your buildings.
Daniel raised his eyes.
At that exact moment, someone knocked three times on the private dining room door.
A familiar male voice spoke from the other side.
“Daniel, don't open that photograph again until you hear what I have to say.”
May you like
Rebecca went pale.
Because the voice belonged to the man standing beside Curtis in the picture...
