Chapter 4 - THE DETECTIVE
I called my attorney before I called the police.
There was no chance I was trusting the department after watching Detective Hayes take money from Vanessa.
Daniel Brooks had represented me for twelve years.
He arrived forty minutes later.
“What happened?”
I locked the study door.
Then I showed him everything.
The doghouse.
The deleted files.
Claire’s letter.
The recording of Vanessa and Hayes.
Daniel watched without interrupting.
When the video ended, he sat back slowly.
“Do not confront Hayes.”
“I wasn’t planning to invite him over for coffee.”
“I mean it.”
“My children were locked inside a doghouse.”
“I know.”
“My first wife may have been alive after the accident.”
“I know.”
“And that detective knew.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Which means you don’t know how many other people knew.”
That stopped me.
He pointed toward the computer.
“Make three copies.”
“I already did.”
“Make three more.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Adrian?”
Vanessa.
Daniel looked at me.
“She’s still here?”
“She’s packing.”
Vanessa knocked again.
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
“You’re really doing this?”
Daniel whispered, “Record everything.”
I opened my phone.
“Already am.”
Vanessa pushed the door open before I could stop her.
She had changed clothes.
Jeans.
Gray sweater.
No makeup.
Calculated vulnerability.
She saw Daniel.
“You called a lawyer?”
Daniel didn’t respond.
Vanessa stared at me.
“This is insane.”
“What happened to Claire?”
Her face didn’t move.
That was the problem.
An innocent person would have been confused.
Vanessa looked prepared.
“I have no idea.”
“I saw you with Colin Hayes.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Two years ago. In my kitchen.”
She swallowed.
“Adrian—”
“You gave him money.”
“That was business.”
“You said Claire might remember where you sent her.”
Her eyes flicked toward Daniel.
“Turn off the recording.”
I hadn’t told her I was recording.
Daniel noticed too.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because this is a private conversation between husband and wife.”
“Not anymore.”
She stepped inside.
“You have no idea what Claire was involved in.”
“Then explain it.”
“I tried to protect you.”
“From my dead wife?”
“Claire wasn’t who you thought she was.”
I almost laughed.
There it was.
The oldest trick in the world.
When the victim couldn’t defend herself, destroy her reputation.
“She wrote me a letter.”
Vanessa’s face changed.
“What letter?”
“The one you hid.”
“I didn’t hide anything.”
“Lily watched you.”
Her eyes hardened.
“That child has always lied.”
I moved toward her.
“Say one more thing about my daughter.”
Daniel stood.
“Adrian.”
I stopped.
Vanessa exhaled.
“Fine.”
She looked directly at me.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Claire was planning to leave you.”
I said nothing.
“She had an account in Canada. Forty thousand dollars. Fake identification.”
“That’s a lie.”
“She was scared of someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
I pulled Claire’s letter from the desk.
“Then why did she specifically warn me not to trust anyone who called her unstable?”
Vanessa stared at the letter.
Her eyes filled.
This time, not with fake tears.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Where did you get that?”
“Answer me.”
She backed toward the door.
“Where did you find that?”
“Vanessa.”
“You don’t understand what you’re holding.”
Daniel said, “I think you should leave.”
She ignored him.
“Adrian, Claire was investigating people who were dangerous.”
“What people?”
“People connected to your father’s company.”
My chest tightened.
Mercer Holdings had been founded by my father.
He died seven years earlier.
“What does my company have to do with Claire?”
“She found transfers.”
“What transfers?”
“Money being moved through shell companies.”
I stared at her.
“Who was moving it?”
Vanessa looked away.
“You.”
I laughed.
She didn’t.
“You expect me to believe Claire thought I was stealing from my own company?”
“No.”
Vanessa looked back at me.
“She thought somebody was using your name.”
“Who?”
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang downstairs.
Then again.
Hard.
Three knocks.
Maria called from below.
“Mr. Mercer?”
I walked to the balcony overlooking the foyer.
Two police officers stood outside.
Between them was Detective Colin Hayes.
He looked up.
Straight at me.
And smiled.
“Adrian,” he called.
“We need to talk about your wife.”
May you like
Vanessa whispered behind me:
“Do not let him inside.”
