Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER I TRUSTED
“Michael?”
The name came out barely above a whisper.
Victoria stood near the bedroom door, gripping the handle of her suitcase.
“I didn't know he was your brother when I first saw the code.”
I stared at her.
“That code belongs to Michael.”
“I know.”
“You've met him dozens of times.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you pretending you couldn't identify him?”
Victoria looked down.
“Because the name on the transactions wasn't Michael.”
A cold silence settled between us.
“What name?”
She hesitated.
“Daniel, you need to understand that I didn't see the original approvals. I only saw the payment summaries.”
“What name, Victoria?”
She finally answered.
“David Mercer.”
I frowned.
There was no David Mercer in our senior management team.
At least, none that I remembered.
Victoria continued.
“The payments were approved under that name, but the authorization code matched D-17.”
I tried to make sense of it.
Michael had worked beside me for seventeen years.
After our father died, I brought him into the family business.
He was younger, more impulsive, and occasionally careless with money.
But I trusted him.
He had stood beside me at Sarah's funeral.
He had carried Lily when I could barely stand.
The thought that he might have betrayed us made me physically ill.
“Why didn't you tell me before?”
Victoria looked at the floor.
“Because I didn't want to lose you.”
“You let me plan a wedding while you hid this?”
She nodded.
I shook my head.
“Go.”
She looked up sharply.
“Daniel—”
“Leave the house.”
This time, she obeyed.
I watched her carry her suitcase down the hallway.
Part of me wanted to believe that her confession had finally uncovered the truth.
But Victoria had lied too often.
I needed evidence.
Not another accusation.
I called Rebecca.
She answered immediately.
“Daniel?”
“I need you to examine company authorization code D-17.”
There was a pause.
“Michael's code?”
“Yes.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Payments connected to the children's charity. Particularly any involving a vendor or intermediary called David Mercer.”
Rebecca took a breath.
“Do you suspect Michael?”
“I don't know.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
Rebecca said she would coordinate with our finance director and preserve the relevant records.
Then she added, “Daniel, don't warn anyone before we know what happened.”
I agreed.
After hanging up, I sat alone in the bedroom.
Sarah's necklace lay on the dresser.
I picked it up and remembered a conversation from years earlier.
Michael had complained that Sarah didn't trust him.
She had questioned a real estate investment he wanted our company to fund.
At the time, I told her she was being too hard on him.
She replied, “Daniel, loving someone doesn't mean you stop asking questions.”
I hadn't understood how much wisdom there was in those words.
Not until now.
I went downstairs.
Lily was in the sunroom with Mrs. Parker, building a small house from wooden blocks.
When she saw me, she smiled.
“Daddy! Look!”
I crouched beside her.
The house had a crooked roof and a bright red door.
“That's beautiful.”
“It's our house.”
“Is it?”
She nodded.
“This is your room. This is mine. This is Miss Margaret's.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“What about Victoria?”
Lily looked down at the blocks.
“She doesn't want to live in my house.”
I gently corrected her.
“This is your home, sweetheart. And you get to feel safe here.”
She placed a little wooden tree beside the house.
“Can we keep Mommy's tree?”
I looked toward the garden.
Sarah had planted a magnolia tree when Lily was born.
Victoria had wanted it removed to make room for an outdoor wedding pavilion.
I had agreed to discuss it after the ceremony.
Now the thought made me ashamed.
“The tree stays,” I promised.
Lily smiled.
“Forever?”
“As long as we can keep it healthy.”
She seemed satisfied.
Then she handed me a tiny wooden figure.
“This is Uncle Michael.”
I looked at it.
“Uncle Michael?”
She nodded.
“He came to see Victoria yesterday.”
My fingers stopped moving.
“Yesterday?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Where?”
“In Mommy's blue room.”
I carefully kept my expression calm.
“What were they doing?”
Lily shrugged.
“Talking.”
“Did you hear anything?”
She placed another block on the roof.
“Victoria said she couldn't find it.”
My pulse quickened.
“Find what?”
Lily shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Did Uncle Michael say anything?”
She thought carefully.
“He said the little girl had it.”
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
“The little girl?”
Lily nodded.
“Me.”
My body went cold.
Victoria and Michael had been searching for something.
They believed Lily possessed it.
The pink purse.
The key.
The photograph.
Suddenly, Victoria's desperate attempt to seize the handbag made terrifying sense.
But one question remained.
Why was Michael involved?
I called Thomas into the hallway.
“Has Michael visited the house recently?”
Thomas nodded.
“Yesterday afternoon. And twice last week.”
“Did he sign in?”
“No, sir. He's family.”
I understood.
Michael could enter our home without anyone questioning him.
He had a garage access code.
He knew the staff.
He knew where Sarah kept her belongings.
I asked Thomas to preserve the security footage.
He nodded.
Then hesitated.
“Sir, there's something else.”
“What?”
“Mr. Michael asked me to drive Lily to a children's museum last Thursday.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to spend time with his niece.”
“Did you take them?”
“No. Mrs. Parker said Lily wasn't feeling well.”
Relief washed through me.
But Thomas looked troubled.
“He seemed unusually upset when the trip was canceled.”
I thanked him and returned to the library.
For the first time that day, I considered calling the police.
I had no proof Michael intended to harm Lily.
But the pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
I contacted a detective recommended by Rebecca and arranged to provide the documents and security records.
Then I called Michael.
He answered on the third ring.
“Hey, big brother. Everything okay? I heard the wedding got canceled.”
His voice was warm.
Familiar.
For one aching moment, I wanted to tell him everything.
Instead, I asked, “Can you come over?”
“Sure. What's going on?”
“I need to discuss some family matters.”
He hesitated.
“Is this about Victoria?”
“Partly.”
Another pause.
Then he said, “I'll be there in an hour.”
I put down the phone.
Thirty minutes later, Rebecca sent me a preliminary report.
Several charitable payments had indeed been approved using D-17.
But the login history showed something unexpected.
The transactions originated from a computer terminal in my private office.
My office.
Not Michael's.
And according to the building access records, I had been inside that office when the payments were approved.
I stared at the screen.
Then Rebecca called.
“Daniel, there's something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“The system records show your credentials were used to authorize those transactions.”
I gripped the phone.
“That's impossible.”
Rebecca's voice remained steady.
“The approvals were made from your computer, using your executive security token.”
I looked toward the framed photograph of Sarah on my desk.
Only three people had ever been given access to that token.
Me.
Michael.
And Sarah.
May you like
Then Rebecca spoke again.
“And Daniel, one of those approvals was made two days after Sarah died.”
