Chapter 6 - THE GROOM’S SECRET
Nathan arrived at the hospital before we could find him.
He walked into Dad’s room with both hands raised.
“I know what this looks like,” he said.
“It looks like your employee tried to kill my father,” I answered.
“He hasn’t worked for me in six months.”
Lena blocked the door. “His personnel records say otherwise.”
“Because someone restored him to the payroll yesterday.”
“Who has access?”
Nathan hesitated.
“Juliette.”
I laughed bitterly. “Convenient.”
Nathan looked exhausted. His tuxedo was wrinkled, and dried blood stained one cuff from stopping Juliette’s knife.
“I didn’t know Caroline was alive,” he said. “But I knew Juliette was hiding money.”
He handed Lena a flash drive.
“I started investigating after she asked me to place armed guards at the old Mercer mill. She claimed teenagers were breaking in, but the invoices were ten times the normal rate.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” I asked.
“Captain Shaw attended our engagement party.”
That answer made sense.
Nathan said Juliette had approached him two years earlier. She was charming, generous, and deeply interested in his security business. Six months after their engagement, she began using his company to move sealed containers between Mercer properties.
“What was inside?” Lena asked.
“I never saw. Every driver who asked questions was fired.”
“One of them was Owen Price?”
Nathan nodded.
Owen had worked at the lake house before becoming a driver. He had contacted Nathan three weeks earlier and claimed to have proof Juliette ordered the fire.
That recording had been made during their meeting.
“Where is Owen?” I asked.
“He called me the morning of the wedding. He sounded terrified. Then the line went dead.”
Nathan gave us the address of an apartment he had rented for Owen under another name.
Lena ordered him to remain at the hospital.
Marcus was still in surgery, so I went with her.
Owen’s apartment door was unlocked.
Inside, the furniture had been overturned. Blood marked the kitchen floor.
But there was no body.
We found a hidden compartment beneath the sink containing photographs of the textile mill, shipping schedules, and medical invoices from Briarwood Recovery Center—the clinic where I had been held.
One photograph showed Juliette speaking to Captain Shaw.
Another showed Nathan unloading a crate.
I stared at it.
“He lied.”
Lena looked at the date.
“This was eight months ago.”
Nathan had claimed he never handled the containers.
We rushed back to the hospital.
His chair outside Dad’s room was empty.
So was Dad’s bed.
A nurse said two federal agents had transferred him for security reasons.
Lena had ordered no transfer.
She checked the security camera.
Nathan appeared on the screen wearing a federal jacket. He pushed Dad’s bed into an elevator while two armed men followed.
My phone rang.
Nathan’s voice was calm.
“Bring the black access card to the textile mill by midnight.”
“What did you do to my father?”
“He’s alive.”
“You said you wanted to help.”
“I do,” Nathan replied. “But not for free.”
A second voice spoke in the background.
Juliette.
“Tell Caroline to come alone.”
Nathan lowered his voice.
“She has Owen too. If you bring the FBI, they both die.”
The call disconnected.
Lena looked at me.
“You’re not going.”
May you like
I slipped Dad’s black access card into my pocket.
“Yes,” I said. “I am.”
