Chapter 7 - THE DEAD MAN WHO WANTED MY COMPANY
Thomas Mercer had been dead for twenty-two years.
I had attended his funeral.
I remembered the closed casket.
I remembered my father standing beside it without crying.
I remembered asking why Uncle Thomas could not come home.
My father had said, “Sometimes people make choices they cannot come back from.”
At thirteen, I thought he meant death.
At thirty-five, I finally understood.
Thomas had never been in that coffin.
Richard’s tablet displayed a countdown beneath the warehouse feed.
01:57:41.
A message appeared.
BRING THE ORIGINAL TRUST AND BOX 814 LEDGER. COME ALONE.
Daniel read it.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You don’t get a vote.”
“He has two hostages.”
“Which is why I’m going.”
“Which is why you call the police.”
“We are calling them.”
Naomi was already doing exactly that.
“But Thomas believes I’m coming alone.”
Samuel traced the stream while detectives coordinated with federal agents.
The warehouse appeared to be somewhere along the industrial river corridor, but the feed bounced through multiple servers.
Thomas had planned this carefully.
Twenty-two years carefully.
Naomi unfolded Vanessa’s note.
The rest read:
Thomas survived the Colorado crash. Your father helped fake his death after discovering Thomas had been using Lydia to steal company money. Edward believed exile would protect the Mercer name and protect you. He was wrong.
Thomas came back five years ago.
Under another name.
I read the sentence twice.
Five years.
“When did Gavin join?” I asked.
Daniel answered.
“Five years ago.”
“When did Vanessa become chief development officer?”
“Four years ago.”
Thomas had rebuilt his way into the company through other people.
Vanessa.
Gavin.
Maybe Daniel.
Not because Daniel knew.
Because Daniel was vain enough to be useful.
The realization hurt differently from the affair.
Daniel had not only betrayed me.
He had been manipulated through the exact weakness I had spent years pretending not to see.
His need to prove Mercer Hospitality belonged to him.
At 6:20, Samuel located the warehouse.
Federal agents wanted time.
Thomas’s countdown did not.
At 6:45, I entered the warehouse district wearing a wire beneath my blouse.
Daniel remained in the command vehicle despite arguing until the last second.
“You walk in there and he may kill you.”
“He could have killed me at the hotel.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“It’s supposed to remind you this began before either of us understood what was happening.”
His eyes filled with something I had not seen in years.
Not pride.
Not anger.
Fear.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I would trade every hotel we own to undo what I did in that fire.”
“You don’t own the hotels.”
He almost laughed.
I didn’t.
Then I softened.
“For what it’s worth, I believe you.”
Not forgiveness.
But truth.
I walked inside.
Thomas waited beneath a hanging industrial light.
He looked like my father if someone had taken Edward’s warmth and carved it away.
“Claire.”
“Uncle Thomas.”
He smiled.
“You remember me.”
“I remember someone.”
Richard and Vanessa sat behind him.
Both alive.
Richard’s forehead was bleeding.
Vanessa looked exhausted.
“Let them go.”
“After we talk.”
I held up a bag.
“The ledger.”
“And the trust?”
“Copies.”
His smile disappeared.
“I asked for the original.”
“The original is in a secure vault. You knew that.”
“I hoped marriage had made you stupid.”
“It made me patient.”
Vanessa almost smiled despite the tape across her mouth.
Thomas walked closer.
“You look like your mother.”
“You knew her?”
“Better than your father would have liked.”
That was bait.
I ignored it.
“Why the fire?”
“To create urgency.”
“You could have killed us.”
“Fire is unpredictable.”
“You disabled the suppression system.”
“Gavin did.”
“Gavin is dead.”
“Yes.”
No remorse.
“Did you kill him?”
Thomas smiled.
“Gavin became sentimental.”
“About what?”
“Prison.”
Behind Thomas, Richard shook his head slightly.
A warning.
I kept Thomas talking.
“My father let you disappear.”
“Your father stole my life.”
“You stole from the company.”
“Our company.”
“You used Lydia.”
“She was ambitious.”
“And Vanessa?”
His eyes moved toward her.
“Inherited the same flaw.”
Vanessa strained against the chair.
Thomas continued.
“She wanted revenge. I gave her an opportunity.”
“You told her my father framed Lydia.”
“At first.”
“And when she learned the truth?”
“She became inconvenient.”
“So you tried to burn her alive too.”
“I knew Daniel would choose her.”
The sentence hit harder than I expected.
Thomas saw it.
“Oh, Claire. Surely you understood your husband by then.”
I kept my face still.
“You counted on Daniel rescuing Vanessa.”
“I counted on Daniel choosing the person who made him feel important.”
Behind my ribs, something broke quietly.
Thomas had known my husband better than I wanted to admit.
“He was never part of your plan?” I asked.
“Daniel?”
Thomas laughed.
“Daniel was the plan.”
I stared at him.
“A man who wants power but does not own it is the easiest door in the world to open.”
He stepped closer.
“Vanessa praised him. Gavin financed him. Richard questioned him. You protected him. Every insecurity did the rest.”
“What do you want now?”
“What was mine.”
“Mercer Hospitality?”
“Half.”
“You burned a hotel for half?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“I burned a hotel because your father left me nothing.”
Sirens sounded faintly outside.
Thomas’s smile vanished.
He looked at my blouse.
Then at the ceiling.
“You brought them.”
He grabbed me.
Everything happened at once.
Vanessa kicked her chair sideways.
Richard threw himself against Thomas.
A gunshot exploded.
I fell.
For one horrifying second, I thought I had been hit.
Then Richard collapsed beside me.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Federal agents stormed the warehouse.
Thomas ran toward a side exit.
Vanessa screamed through the tape.
I crawled toward Richard.
“Stay with me.”
His eyes found mine.
“Claire.”
“Don’t talk.”
“Your father…”
“Richard, stop.”
“He didn’t fake Thomas’s death to protect the family name.”
I pressed both hands against the wound.
“Then why?”
Richard coughed.
“To protect you.”
My blood went cold.
“What does Thomas have to do with me?”
Richard struggled for breath.
“He came back once before.”
“When?”
“The night your father died.”
I froze.
My father had supposedly suffered a heart attack alone in his study.
Richard gripped my wrist.
May you like
“He wasn’t alone, Claire.”
Then his eyes closed.
