Chapter 9 - The Aunt Who Was Supposed to Be DeadEleanor hit the floor.
My mother screamed.
Quinn shoved the door shut.
“Down!”
Another bullet struck the stone wall.
Nathan dragged Eleanor behind a pew.
Blood spread across her coat.
“Where are you hit?”
She pressed her side.
“Shoulder.”
Quinn examined the wound.
“Through and through.”
She looked at me.
“Don't worry.”
“You're bleeding.”
“I've survived worse.”
She tried to smile.
My mother knelt beside her.
“I thought you died.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Martin.”
My mother covered her face.
“He told us you were killed.”
“He needed you to believe it.”
“Why?”
“Because I found the accounts.”
Eleanor looked at me.
“Your father wasn't just stealing.”
“What was he doing?”
“He was selling information.”
Quinn's expression tightened.
“Military information?”
She nodded.
“Contract bids. Delivery schedules. Security weaknesses.”
Nathan stared.
“To whom?”
“Private brokers.”
“Foreign?”
“Some.”
“And the rest?”
“Private American companies.”
I felt sick.
“So he sold secrets to whoever paid.”
“Yes.”
“Why haven't you reported him?”
“I did.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Twenty years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Because he had connections?”
“Because I disappeared.”
She looked at my mother.
“Martin made sure every report I filed made me look unstable.”
My mother began crying.
“I should have believed you.”
“You were trying to protect your children.”
“I failed.”
“No.”
Eleanor took her hand.
“You survived.”
Quinn stood.
“We need to move.”
“Where?”
Eleanor reached inside her coat.
She gave him a folded map.
“Warehouse 12.”
Quinn unfolded it.
“At the harbor?”
“Yes.”
“What's there?”
“The original ledger.”
I stared.
“The one Grandpa mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't he show it to us?”
“Because the ledger doesn't just prove fraud.”
“What else does it prove?”
Eleanor looked at me.
“It proves murder.”
The word hung in the chapel.
“Whose murder?”
She whispered,
“Three soldiers.”
Quinn went completely still.
I looked at him.
He didn't say anything.
“Quinn?”
He stared at Eleanor.
“You knew?”
“I knew enough.”
“Did you investigate the deaths?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
“Parts were replaced on military vehicles.”
“By your father's company?”
“Yes.”
“The vehicles failed.”
“Yes.”
“And soldiers died.”
Quinn nodded.
“How many?”
“Three confirmed.”
Eleanor corrected him.
“Five.”
Quinn looked at her.
“Two weren't officially recorded.”
Nathan stared.
“How can two dead soldiers not be recorded?”
“Because their deaths were classified as training accidents.”
My father had buried them twice.
First in reality.
Then in paperwork.
We drove toward Warehouse 12.
No lights.
No traffic.
The harbor was almost empty.
Eleanor pointed toward a rusted building.
“That's it.”
Quinn parked.
We entered through a side door.
Inside, rows of crates filled the darkness.
Eleanor walked to one marked M.S.D.
She removed a tiny blade from her pocket.
Opened the crate.
Inside was a metal box.
She touched it.
“My father wanted this to survive.”
She handed the box to me.
“Why me?”
“Because the trust belongs to you.”
“What does that have to do with the ledger?”
“You're not just the heir.”
I stared.
“You are the final witness.”
I opened the box.
Inside was a handwritten ledger.
And beneath it, another object.
A wedding ring.
My mother's eyes widened.
“That was Eleanor's.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
My mother stared.
“Then whose?”
Eleanor looked at me.
“Your grandfather's.”
My hands went cold.
The inside of the ring contained an engraving.
FOR C.M.
I looked at my mother.
“Who is C.M.?”
She started crying.
Then whispered,
“Clara Mercer.”
I frowned.
“Who is Clara?”
Eleanor answered.
“Your father's first wife.”
I stared.
“My father was married before Mom?”
Eleanor's face turned pale.
“She didn't divorce him.”
“What?”
“She disappeared.”
A sound came from the warehouse entrance.
Footsteps.
Quinn raised his weapon.
Eleanor whispered,
“We're too late.”
A light clicked on.
My father stood at the far end of the warehouse.
Beside him was another woman.
Older.
Pale.
Alive.
May you like
My father smiled.
“Let me introduce you to your father's first wife.”
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