Chapter 10 - THE PARKING LOT
I did not go outside.
I called 911.
Dwight texted again.
I’m not going to hurt you.
Then:
Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.
The sedan remained across the street.
Amy locked the doors.
“You think that’s him?”
“Yes.”
Police arrived seven minutes later.
The sedan pulled away before they reached the block.
But one officer got the plate.
Rental car.
Paid in cash.
Security cameras from a nearby gas station caught Dwight behind the wheel.
By morning, there was a warrant related to fraud and attempted witness intimidation.
Susan called me crying.
“You’re destroying my son.”
I almost hung up.
Instead, I said, “Your son destroyed himself.”
“You don’t understand what stress does to people.”
“Your husband hit me.”
“He was upset.”
“Dwight forged my signature.”
“He was scared.”
“He stole my money.”
“We’re family!”
I laughed.
“No, Susan. Families don’t choose a woman based on her inheritance.”
She stopped crying.
Completely.
The silence told me I had hit something.
“You knew that part too.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“You’re confused.”
“Then explain why your text said pushing me out would help.”
She hung up.
Christopher loved that.
“She basically confirmed the message.”
Police questioned Susan the same afternoon.
Gemma hired her own attorney.
Ryan agreed to cooperate.
Then came the break.
Dwight contacted Ashley.
He told her he needed money.
She called me first.
“What do I do?”
“Call Detective Morrison.”
Police arranged for Ashley to meet Dwight in a parking garage.
She wore a wire.
I hated the idea.
Not because I cared whether Ashley was scared.
Because every part of me wanted to be there.
Christopher refused.
“You’re the victim, not bait.”
So I waited.
For two hours.
Then Detective Morrison called.
“We got him.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did he talk?”
“Plenty.”
In the recorded conversation, Dwight blamed Jared.
Then Susan.
Then Ashley.
Then me.
But he also said something investigators hadn’t known.
“There was never supposed to be violence.”
Ashley asked, “Then what was supposed to happen?”
Dwight replied:
“She was supposed to leave after the money cleared.”
“And if she didn’t?”
A long pause.
“Dad had another plan.”
Investigators arrested him before he explained.
But the phrase stayed with me.
Another plan.
That night, police searched the Mercer apartment again.
Behind a loose panel in Jared’s closet, they found a small box.
Inside were copies of my medical information.
My work schedule.
My car registration.
And an insurance policy.
Taken out shortly before the wedding.
Policyholder:
Dwight Mercer.
Insured person:
Elizabeth Carter Mercer.
Coverage:
$750,000.
Christopher looked sick.
“So if divorce didn’t work…”
He didn’t finish.
I looked at the policy.
Then at the date it became active.
Three days after our planned honeymoon.
May you like
A honeymoon Dwight had insisted we take in a remote cabin near Deep Creek Lake.
And for the first time, I wondered whether the money they planned to take from me was ever supposed to be enough.
