Chapter 11 - THE LAST LIE
I stared at my mother.
She stared back.
“Sophie.”
“Why did he say your name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t.”
My voice shook.
“Don’t lie to me again.”
Mom looked devastated.
Federal agents separated us.
Reed’s final word leaked to the press.
Within hours, headlines questioned Mom’s innocence again.
CAROLINE HAYES: VICTIM OR MASTERMIND?
I wanted to smash every television I saw.
The FBI examined the ledger.
Then they discovered several entries made in Mom’s handwriting.
I felt betrayed all over again.
Mom finally explained.
She had worked as Hayes Medical’s financial controller before Ethan was born.
She had noticed suspicious payments.
Dad asked her to document them secretly.
Those were her entries.
She hadn’t run the scheme.
She had helped expose it.
Reed’s final accusation had been one last attempt to poison the truth.
But who shot Reed?
Ballistics provided the answer.
The rifle belonged to Alan Mercer.
Except Mercer was in federal custody.
Someone had taken the weapon from his private collection.
Then surveillance footage revealed the shooter.
Michael Doyle.
The former evidence technician.
Doyle had not disappeared.
He had been cleaning up for the conspiracy.
Federal agents found him two days later.
He tried to flee.
He crashed his car.
He survived.
And once arrested, he talked.
Doyle admitted destroying evidence.
He admitted helping stage Linda Mercer’s suicide.
He admitted shooting Reed.
“Who ordered you?”
Marcus asked.
Doyle stared at the table.
“Victor.”
My stomach dropped.
Victor had been cooperating.
Or pretending to.
He had ordered Reed killed from jail using an intermediary.
Why?
Because Reed knew Victor had taken over Bellweather after Dad died.
Victor wasn’t merely a frightened accomplice.
He had spent six years expanding the criminal network.
He had become richer because Dad died.
And he had planned to blame everything on Reed.
The FBI confronted Victor.
He stopped cooperating.
Then he made one mistake.
He asked:
“Did Doyle tell you about the basement?”
Nobody had mentioned a basement.
Agents searched Victor’s mansion.
Behind a false wall beneath the wine cellar, they found an archive.
Documents.
Cash.
Weapons.
Photographs.
And the missing evidence from Mom’s case.
Her robe.
The glass.
The original red towel.
The bloody shoeprint photograph.
Everything Mercer had supposedly destroyed.
Victor had kept trophies.
Then agents found a locked steel cabinet.
Inside were files on me.
On Ethan.
On Mom.
And on Dad.
One folder was labeled:
DANIEL — FINAL NIGHT.
Inside was a memory card.
The card contained security-camera footage from our house.
Victor had told police the system wasn’t recording that night.
He lied.
The footage showed the kitchen.
Dad.
Reed.
Victor.
Mercer.
And Mom.
At 10:42 p.m., Reed and Dad argued.
At 10:44, Reed reached toward the counter.
At 10:45, the camera image disappeared.
But the audio continued.
Dad shouted.
Mom screamed.
Then came the sound of a struggle.
And finally, a voice.
Victor’s voice.
May you like
“Do it now.”
A second later, Dad screamed.
