Chapter 5 - THE BASEMENT DOOR
The hospital confirmed Noah had bruising but no broken bones.
The doctor wanted observation.
I wanted Margaret arrested.
The police wanted statements.
By midnight, the Mercer mansion was no longer quiet.
Officers moved through the halls.
Benjamin sat beside me outside Noah’s room at the hospital.
I hadn’t slept.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I asked.
“Your grandfather tried.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“I never got anything.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“Margaret intercepted the mail?”
“Some of it.”
“Some?”
Benjamin hesitated.
“Daniel, there were also people paid to keep information away from you.”
I leaned back.
My whole life suddenly felt staged.
Schools chosen by Margaret.
Jobs encouraged by Margaret.
Friends she liked.
Women she hated.
Then I thought about Emily.
Noah’s mother.
Emily Carter.
The woman I loved.
The woman Margaret despised from the moment I introduced them.
“She hated Emily because she thought we’d have a child.”
Benjamin nodded slowly.
“Charles’s trust transferred control upon the birth of your first biological child.”
I stared at the floor.
Emily died fourteen months ago.
A car crash.
Three weeks after Noah was born.
My chest tightened.
“No.”
Benjamin watched me.
“What?”
“Emily’s accident.”
“Daniel—”
“Was it an accident?”
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t good enough.”
“No, it isn’t.”
My phone rang.
Detective Ramirez.
I answered immediately.
“Mr. Mercer, we found something at the house.”
“What?”
“A locked room in the basement.”
I stood.
“So?”
“There are signs someone recently tried to clear it out.”
My stomach turned.
“What did you find?”
“A lot of old files.”
He paused.
“And a woman’s necklace.”
I gripped the phone.
“What woman?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Describe it.”
“Gold chain. Small blue stone. Initials engraved on the back.”
“What initials?”
There was another pause.
“R.H.”
Rebecca Hale.
I closed my eyes.
Then Ramirez said something worse.
“There’s also a section of concrete in the basement that doesn’t match the rest of the floor.”
I couldn’t speak.
“We’re bringing in a forensic team,” he continued.
Benjamin had gone pale.
I ended the call.
“What?”
I told him.
He stood slowly.
“Daniel, your grandfather wrote about that basement.”
“What did he say?”
Benjamin opened his briefcase.
He pulled out a photocopied page from Charles’s notebook.
One sentence had been underlined three times.
If Margaret ever loses control, search beneath the wine room.
I looked at Benjamin.
May you like
The wine room was directly above that basement.
And suddenly, for the first time in my life, I wondered whether Rebecca Hale had ever left the Mercer house at all.
