Chapter 12 - THE NIGHT MY FATHER DIED
12
For eighteen months, I had imagined my father's final moments a thousand different ways.
The police report said his car left a wet road outside Annapolis shortly after midnight.
The guardrail failed.
His SUV rolled down an embankment.
He died before emergency services arrived.
Accident.
That single word had shaped my grief.
Now Daniel Mercer stood outside my father's office claiming he had been there.
Martin looked at me and shook his head.
Don't open it.
Daniel knocked again.
“Claire, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't be standing outside a locked door announcing myself.”
“That might be the first true thing you've said to me.”
Silence.
Then Daniel laughed quietly.
“I deserved that.”
Martin leaned toward the hidden room's security monitor.
Three men stood in the hallway.
Daniel and two others.
I recognized one.
Gavin Reese.
Daniel's longtime friend.
The man who had been his best man until our wedding disappeared three hours before the ceremony.
The other man was unfamiliar.
“Who is he?” I whispered.
Martin's face hardened.
“Victor Hale.”
I looked at him.
“Who?”
“Former executive at Vega Maritime.”
That name had appeared in my father's files.
Martin stared at the monitor.
“He was questioned during a federal investigation nine years ago. Nothing stuck.”
Daniel spoke again.
“You have probably found the video.”
I felt cold.
“How do you know about the room?”
“I've known about it for a year.”
Martin and I exchanged a look.
“Then why didn't you take the evidence?”
“Because I couldn't get into the server.”
“My mother's birthday.”
“No.”
Daniel's voice sounded strangely tired.
“Your mother's real birthday.”
My stomach dropped.
He knew.
That meant my father had told him.
Or Daniel had investigated my family deeply enough to uncover even private family jokes.
Neither possibility comforted me.
“You have sixty seconds,” I said. “Tell me what happened to my father.”
Martin grabbed my arm.
I held up one finger.
Let him talk.
Daniel exhaled beyond the door.
“Your father called me the night he died.”
My throat tightened.
“He said he had evidence against my mother and Victor Hale. He wanted me to meet him.”
“Why would he trust you?”
“He didn't.”
Daniel paused.
“He wanted to turn me.”
Martin whispered, “Classic divide-and-conquer.”
Daniel apparently heard him.
“Hello, Martin.”
Martin said nothing.
Daniel continued.
“Edward knew I had been doing work for my mother. Corporate intelligence. Background research. Introductions. Nothing violent.”
“You researched me.”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
My chest hurt even though I had expected it.
“How long?”
“Eight months before we met.”
“Why?”
“Because your father owned Harbor Street.”
“So our relationship—”
“Started as a job.”
I closed my eyes.
Daniel's next words were softer.
“It didn't stay one.”
I almost laughed.
“Don't.”
“Claire—”
“Don't you dare turn betrayal into a love story.”
Daniel fell silent.
“Tell me about my father.”
“He asked me to meet him at a marina outside Annapolis. When I arrived, Victor was already there.”
“Why?”
“I don't know how Victor learned about the meeting.”
Martin looked toward the computer.
“Patricia.”
Daniel replied, “That's what I believed too.”
“And now?”
“Now I'm not sure.”
I hated that he sounded sincere.
Daniel continued.
“Your father had a flash drive. He said it contained enough evidence to destroy Vega's network. He offered me immunity through a federal contact if I testified.”
“Did you agree?”
“No.”
The honesty hurt more than a lie.
“I told him to go to hell.”
Daniel's voice cracked slightly.
“I thought he was trying to destroy my mother.”
“What happened?”
“Victor attacked him.”
My fingernails dug into my palms.
“He hit Edward from behind. I tried to stop him. Gavin arrived. There was a fight.”
I looked at the monitor.
Gavin stood perfectly still outside.
“Gavin was there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He'd been following me.”
“On whose orders?”
Daniel didn't answer.
“Daniel.”
“My mother's.”
There it was.
I whispered, “Patricia knew.”
“She knew I was meeting your father. She told Gavin to watch me because she thought I might betray her.”
“And then?”
“Victor took the drive. Your father escaped to his SUV. I followed him.”
Daniel stopped.
For the first time, he seemed unable to continue.
I heard him breathe.
“He drove away.”
“And?”
“Victor followed.”
My whole body had gone numb.
“I followed Victor.”
Martin whispered, “Claire, do not accept this as fact.”
I knew that.
But I needed the rest.
Daniel continued.
“It started raining harder. Edward was driving too fast. Victor pulled alongside him twice.”
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
“The second time, Victor's vehicle struck your father's SUV.”
I felt the room tilt.
“On purpose?”
“Yes.”
My eyes closed.
My father hadn't lost control.
He had been hunted.
“His SUV went through the guardrail.”
Daniel's voice dropped.
“I stopped.”
Martin looked at me sharply.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“I ran down the embankment.”
“You found him?”
“Yes.”
My voice broke.
“Was he alive?”
A long silence.
“Daniel.”
“Yes.”
The word shattered something inside me.
My father had not died instantly.
The police report was wrong.
“What did he say?”
Daniel didn't answer.
“What did my father say?”
“Claire—”
“Tell me!”
“He said your name.”
I pressed both hands to my mouth.
Daniel continued.
“He was trapped. There was blood everywhere. I called 911 anonymously.”
“Anonymously?”
“If I'd identified myself, Victor would have known I was talking.”
“You coward.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
No excuse.
Just yes.
“I tried to get him out, but the door was crushed.”
I could barely see through my tears.
“He grabbed my wrist.”
Daniel's voice changed.
“He told me, ‘You still have a choice.’”
I sank into the chair.
That sounded exactly like my father.
Even while dying, Edward Ellison had apparently been trying to save someone else from becoming worse.
“What did you do?”
“I ran when I heard Victor returning.”
My head snapped up.
“He came back?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“I don't know. I hid in the trees. Victor walked down to the SUV. He stayed there maybe two minutes.”
My skin prickled.
“And then?”
“He climbed back up and left.”
“Was my father still alive when Victor reached him?”
“I think so.”
I stopped breathing.
Martin closed his eyes.
Daniel said, “When the ambulance arrived, I was gone.”
“You let me bury him believing it was an accident.”
“Yes.”
“You came to his funeral.”
“Yes.”
“You held me while I cried.”
No answer.
“You proposed to me.”
Silence.
Then Daniel whispered, “Yes.”
Something cold replaced my grief.
I stood.
Martin tried to stop me.
I opened the office door.
Daniel stood ten feet away.
For the first time since canceling the wedding, I saw him face to face.
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
Exhausted.
His tuxedo was gone. He wore dark jeans and a rain-soaked jacket.
Gavin remained behind him.
Victor Hale stood near the elevator.
Daniel's eyes met mine.
“I'm sorry.”
I slapped him.
Hard.
Gavin moved.
Daniel raised one hand.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“My father died calling my name, and you spent eighteen months lying to me.”
“I know.”
“You don't get forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“You don't get me.”
Pain moved across his face.
“I know.”
Victor Hale laughed.
Everyone turned.
“You two are very touching.”
Daniel's body changed immediately.
“Victor.”
Victor reached inside his coat.
Martin froze.
Gavin moved his hand toward his waistband.
Victor smiled.
“Relax. If I wanted anyone dead, we wouldn't be talking.”
He pulled out a phone.
“Claire, your father was brilliant. But he made the mistake brilliant men often make.”
“What mistake?”
“He believed evidence matters more than leverage.”
Victor held up the phone.
On the screen was a live video.
Patricia Mercer sat in a chair somewhere unfamiliar.
Her hands were tied.
Her face was bruised.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Mom?”
Victor smiled.
“Now we discuss the server.”
Daniel stared at him.
“You took her?”
“Your mother has become inconvenient.”
Patricia lifted her head on the screen.
“Daniel, don't give him anything.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
He tapped the phone.
A man behind Patricia pressed something against her neck.
Daniel went pale.
Victor looked at me.
“The server contains financial records your father stole.”
“He copied them.”
“Semantics.”
“You killed him.”
Victor smiled.
“Can you prove it?”
I suddenly understood.
He had come here because he believed the server held the proof.
Which meant he didn't know exactly what my father had collected.
I looked at Martin.
Martin looked at me.
Then I lied.
“The server isn't here.”
Victor's eyes narrowed.
“Where is it?”
“My father moved the original files before he died.”
“You're lying.”
“Maybe.”
I stepped closer.
“But you just admitted something useful.”
His expression changed.
I raised my phone.
Recording.
Victor's face became still.
Then he smiled.
“Edward's daughter.”
He seemed almost impressed.
“Always learning.”
Daniel moved between us.
Victor sighed.
“You really did fall in love with her.”
Daniel didn't answer.
Victor looked almost amused.
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Victor looked at Daniel.
“Your mother never told you?”
Daniel's face tightened.
Victor laughed.
“Oh, this is better than I expected.”
He turned toward me.
“Daniel was never supposed to marry you, Claire.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“He was supposed to make you trust him, get access to Harbor Street, and disappear.”
Daniel stared at Victor.
Victor continued.
“The marriage was Patricia's improvisation after Edward died.”
He looked directly at me.
“But the original plan to target you?”
His smile widened.
“That came from your father.”
Daniel whispered, “What are you talking about?”
Victor's eyes stayed on me.
“Not Edward.”
He pointed toward Daniel.
“His father.”
The hallway became silent.
Daniel's father had supposedly died fifteen years earlier.
At least, that was what Daniel had always told me.
Victor tapped Patricia's live video again.
Then he said,
May you like
“Warren Mercer is alive.”
And suddenly the initials W.M. in my father's files had a name.
