Chapter 8 - What Happened the Night My Father Died
Richard survived surgery.
The bullet missed his heart by less than an inch.
Thomas escaped.
For forty-eight hours, Chicago police and federal agents searched for him while I sat beside Richard’s hospital bed waiting for the truth.
When he finally woke, he looked twenty years older.
“You should rest,” I said.
“So should you.”
“I’ve tried that. People keep setting buildings on fire.”
A weak smile crossed his face.
Then disappeared.
“Your father should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“But he thought secrecy was protection.”
“That seems to be a Mercer family disease.”
Richard stared at the ceiling.
“Thomas was always brilliant. More brilliant than Edward in some ways. But he believed intelligence entitled him to whatever he could take.”
“The stolen money.”
“That was only the beginning.”
Richard explained that Thomas had used Lydia Cole to move funds through shell companies.
When my father discovered it, he confronted Thomas.
Thomas threatened to expose fabricated financial records that could have destroyed the company and implicated innocent employees.
So Edward negotiated.
Thomas would disappear.
The company would quietly repay losses.
Lydia would leave without prosecution.
In return, Thomas would stay away from Mercer Hospitality.
“And then?” I asked.
“For seventeen years, he did.”
“What changed?”
“Your father became ill.”
“My father wasn’t ill.”
Richard looked at me.
“He had cardiomyopathy.”
I stared.
“He never told me.”
“He didn’t want you reorganizing your life around him.”
Of course.
Another secret disguised as love.
“Thomas learned Edward’s condition was worsening. He came back believing he could force your father to amend the trust.”
“To give him shares?”
“Yes.”
“And the night Dad died?”
Richard swallowed.
“I was there earlier. Thomas arrived after I left.”
“How do you know?”
“Your father called me.”
My throat tightened.
“What did he say?”
“That Thomas was in the house. That they had argued. He told me not to come back because he didn’t want a confrontation.”
“Then?”
“Twenty minutes later, your father called again.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“He could barely speak. I called an ambulance and drove back.”
“What did Thomas do?”
“We never proved it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Claire, your father had a heart condition. Thomas claimed Edward collapsed during their argument.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Edward’s heart medication was missing.”
The room became silent.
“Was there an autopsy?”
“No. His physician certified natural cardiac death.”
“Did Thomas take the medication?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you think he did.”
“I think Thomas knew frightening someone with Edward’s condition could kill him. Whether he removed the medication before or after, I cannot prove.”
I stood and walked to the window.
For twelve years, I had believed my father died peacefully.
Now even that memory had been stolen.
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“Edward had left instructions.”
I turned.
“For his own death?”
“For Thomas’s return.”
Richard explained that my father had prepared evidence documenting Thomas’s financial crimes but feared public exposure would collapse financing agreements and destroy thousands of jobs.
I laughed bitterly.
“Everybody protected the company.”
“Edward protected people.”
“And look what it cost.”
Richard had no answer.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I almost ignored it.
Then answered.
“Claire, where are you?”
“Hospital.”
“Stay there.”
My spine stiffened.
“Why?”
“Thomas just called me.”
“What?”
“He wants to meet.”
“Do not go.”
“He says he has evidence that clears Vanessa of Gavin’s murder.”
“Daniel.”
“And he says he has something else.”
“What?”
Silence.
“Proof your father knew about Project Phoenix.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“Where does he want to meet?”
Daniel hesitated.
I understood immediately.
“You’re already going.”
“I can get him to talk.”
“No.”
“I owe you this.”
“You owe me many things. Getting yourself killed isn’t one of them.”
“I helped create this.”
“You cheated on me. You signed papers you had no business signing. You were arrogant and careless. None of that makes you responsible for Thomas Mercer.”
“It made me useful to him.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
He told me.
An abandoned Mercer hotel scheduled for demolition on South Michigan Avenue.
I called Naomi and federal investigators before leaving Richard’s room.
Daniel’s car was outside when we arrived.
The building was dark.
Agents entered first.
No Thomas.
No Daniel.
On the lobby floor sat Daniel’s phone.
A video was playing.
Thomas appeared.
Behind him, Daniel was tied to a chair.
“I’m tired of negotiating with other people, Claire.”
Thomas leaned toward the camera.
“Bring me the trust authentication codes.”
Daniel lifted his head.
Blood marked his mouth.
“Don’t.”
Thomas struck him.
My body reacted before my mind did.
I stepped toward the screen.
Thomas smiled.
“You have until midnight.”
The video ended.
Naomi looked at me.
“You cannot give him those codes.”
“I know.”
“With them, he could authenticate transfers.”
“I know.”
“Claire.”
I looked at Daniel’s abandoned phone.
My husband had chosen Vanessa in the fire.
He had betrayed our marriage.
He had helped strangers build a weapon against my company.
And yet I could not stand there and let him die.
“I’m not giving Thomas my company.”
Naomi studied me.
“What are you going to do?”
I picked up Daniel’s phone.
“I’m going to give him exactly what he thinks he wants.”
At 11:42 p.m., I sent Thomas a message.
I HAVE THE CODES.
His response came immediately.
Then I saw the meeting location.
It wasn’t a warehouse.
It wasn’t a hotel.
May you like
It was my childhood home.
The house where my father died.
