Chapter 9 - The Black LedgerThe Name at the Bottom of Every Page
We barely escaped the cemetery.
Marcus rammed the gate before the SUV could block us.
Brielle followed in a second vehicle.
She led us to an abandoned printing warehouse outside the city.
Inside, she locked six separate doors.
Reed looked at her.
“You have thirty seconds.”
She swallowed.
“I know where Nolan’s second safe is.”
Victor shook his head.
“He moved it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because I helped him.”
I watched her carefully.
“What did you move?”
“The Black Ledger.”
My heart stopped.
“You knew about it?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
She pointed to the leather case in my hands.
“You found the decoy.”
I opened the ledger.
Blank pages.
Every one of them.
I looked at her.
“He knew we’d find it.”
Brielle nodded.
“There are two ledgers.”
“Where is the real one?”
She reached into her purse.
Pulled out a key.
Not a normal key.
A tiny steel key attached to an old brass tag.
MERCER ARCHIVE.
Victor went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“Nolan’s father gave it to mine.”
Reed stared.
“This goes back to the CFO?”
“Yes.”
Brielle sat down.
“My father spent years trying to prove the Mercer family was stealing from investors.”
She looked at me.
“He finally found the archive.”
“What happened?”
“Nolan’s father threatened my family.”
“And your father still fought.”
“He did.”
“And lost.”
Brielle looked down.
“Nolan told me he’d release the evidence that destroyed my father if I betrayed him.”
“You did.”
“Yes.”
“But you also betrayed him.”
She smiled bitterly.
“I learned from you.”
“From me?”
“You survived him.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Victor took the key.
“Where is the archive?”
“Under the old Mercer textile plant.”
The building had been closed for fourteen years.
But the archive was still there.
We arrived before sunrise.
The lower level smelled of dust, oil, and wet concrete.
The key opened a steel door.
Inside were hundreds of banker boxes.
Reed stared.
“My God.”
Victor found a catalog.
“Accounts.”
I opened the first box.
Invoices.
Transfer orders.
Beneficial ownership records.
Then I saw the names.
Nolan’s father.
Three politicians.
Two judges.
Four bank executives.
Then one more name.
Margaret Whitaker.
I froze.
“What?”
Reed took the page.
“No.”
Victor looked over his shoulder.
“Interesting.”
I felt sick.
“My mother was involved?”
Victor shook his head.
“Not the way you think.”
We found the real ledger.
It was hidden inside a hollow drawer.
The pages were handwritten.
Dates.
Amounts.
Initials.
Approvals.
Then the final page.
I read the first line.
THE PERSON WHO MADE THE FIRST TRANSFER WAS NOT A MERCER.
My hands trembled.
I turned the page.
There was a name.
Not Nolan’s father.
Not Nolan.
Not even my mother.
The name belonged to someone still alive.
Someone who had access to our family.
Someone who had been advising Nolan.
I stared at it.
Reed whispered:
“Camille…”
I looked up.
“It’s impossible.”
Victor took the page.
His face went blank.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Because this person is currently one of your husband’s attorneys.”
The warehouse lights went out.
A door slammed.
Then a voice echoed through the darkness.
May you like
“You should have left the ledger where you found it.”
Nolan.
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