Chapter 8 - THE LEDGERThe voice echoed through the tower.

James grabbed Connor.

Tommy pushed Maria behind the control panel.

Elliot switched on his phone flashlight.

A beam cut through the darkness.

Nobody stood in the doorway.

Then a metallic click.

The lock engaged.

"We're trapped," Tommy said.

James moved toward the door.

"Who was that?"

No answer.

Connor whispered, "Mr. Vale."

James turned.

"Victor Hale?"

Connor shook his head.

"That's what the man called himself."

"Did you see him?"

Connor pointed to the darkness.

"Not his face."

James remembered the photograph.

The blue jacket.

The silver watch.

But there had been another figure.

The woman.

The missing fourth person.

James opened the ledger again.

Names filled every page.

Judge's clerks.

Contractors.

Inspectors.

Property managers.

Bank employees.

Then, near the back, a list of payments.

One recipient appeared repeatedly.

R. Mercer.

James stared.

"Richard."

Tommy shook his head.

"No."

"That's him."

"It can't be."

"Why?"

"Because your uncle died two years ago."

James's head snapped up.

"What?"

Tommy looked confused.

"You didn't know?"

James felt a wave of cold move through him.

His uncle Richard had supposedly moved overseas.

James had not seen him in three years.

Family members said he wanted privacy.

No funeral.

No obituary.

No explanation.

Tommy whispered:

"He wasn't dead."

James looked at the ledger.

"He was paying himself."

Maria leaned closer.

"No."

She pointed to the initials.

"That's not Richard."

"Then who?"

Maria looked at Connor.

"His mother knew."

Connor suddenly spoke.

"My mom said Uncle Richard wasn't really Uncle Richard."

Silence.

James crouched.

"What did she mean?"

Connor looked frightened.

"She said the man who came to our house used a different name."

"What name?"

Connor shut his eyes.

"I don't remember."

James softened his voice.

"Take your time."

Connor swallowed.

"Mr. Mercer."

James's blood froze.

"Which Mercer?"

Connor pointed at James.

"You."

The room went silent.

James shook his head.

"I've never been to your house."

Connor whispered:

"But my mom saw your face on television."

"Where?"

"She said the man who came to our house looked exactly like you."

James stepped backward.

There were now two possibilities.

Someone had been impersonating him.

Or someone in the family had been using his identity.

Before he could process it, the door opened.

Police lights flashed outside.

Officer Davis stepped in.

"Everybody stay where you are."

James exhaled.

"Officer, we need protection."

Davis looked directly at the ledger.

Then at James.

"You need to hand that over."

James frowned.

"Why?"

Davis's expression changed.

"Because your name is on it."

James stared at the page.

His own name was there.

Beside it was a payment.

$250,000.

Date: eight months ago.

The month Connor's mother died.

James looked at Connor.

Connor stepped backward.

"You killed my mom."

James could barely speak.

"I didn't."

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