Chapter 10 - The Man Behind the Money
I spent the next forty-eight hours refusing to make assumptions.
That had always been one of the strengths of my career.
Emotion could tell you something was wrong.
Evidence told you what was wrong.
Hannah investigated Mercer Defense Consulting.
The company had legitimate contracts.
Nothing criminal appeared on the surface.
But one executive stood out.
Daniel Mercer.
Former military intelligence officer.
Now a private defense contractor.
And somehow, he had connections to a financial network that included Northstar.
"How is my father connected to him?"
Hannah couldn't answer.
"Could this involve your work?"
"I don't know."
"Could it be connected to classified information?"
"I don't know."
That was the part that scared me.
My parents stealing money was a family problem.
My parents getting involved with someone connected to defense contracting was something else.
That evening, I told David everything.
He listened without interrupting.
Then he said:
"You need to separate your professional life from this."
"I know."
"If your father has connected your family finances to anyone involved with your military work, you cannot investigate that part yourself."
"I know."
He took my hand.
"Good."
We agreed to let Hannah handle all civilian financial matters.
Meanwhile, I focused on Lily.
She needed normal.
So I took her to the park.
We bought ice cream.
She climbed the jungle gym.
For two hours, she laughed without knowing that adults were pulling apart the machinery of her family.
Then she said:
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Grandpa doesn't like me."
I frowned.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he never picks me up."
I hugged her.
"You don't have to worry about grown-up problems."
She looked serious.
"Did I do something bad?"
"No."
"Then why did Grandma leave me?"
I swallowed.
"Because sometimes adults make terrible choices."
She nodded.
"Like when I spilled juice on the carpet?"
I smiled.
"Much worse than that."
She giggled.
That night, Hannah called.
"We found Mercer."
"What does he have to do with your father?"
"Everything."
My heart tightened.
"Tell me."
"Northstar received funds from your trust. Those funds were moved through another account."
"Whose?"
"Mercer Defense Consulting."
"For what?"
Hannah paused.
"Consulting services."
"To your father?"
"No."
"Then who?"
"You."
I froze.
"What?"
"The invoices list you as the client."
My blood went cold.
"I never hired them."
"I know."
"What were they hired for?"
"We don't know."
Then she sent me the invoice.
The description was vague.
Risk management and personal security consultation.
Date?
The month Lily was born.
Amount?
$180,000.
I stared at it.
"That money came from my trust?"
"Yes."
"Who authorized it?"
"Your father's shell company."
I looked at the date.
Then I remembered something else.
Three years ago, I had discovered someone had been repeatedly attempting to access my personnel records.
I had assumed it was routine.
Could my family have been behind it?
Hannah called again.
"There's more."
"What?"
"Mercer didn't just receive money."
She sounded uneasy.
"He received copies of private documents related to Lily."
My stomach turned.
"What documents?"
"Birth records."
"Medical records."
"Insurance records."
"School information."
I felt sick.
"Why?"
"We don't know."
Then Hannah said:
"One more thing."
I braced myself.
"The records were delivered by Miranda."
The room went silent.
I called my sister.
She answered on the first ring.
"I didn't know what they were for."
"You delivered my daughter's records."
"Grandpa told me to."
I froze.
"What?"
"He told me before he died."
My voice dropped.
"Grandpa is dead."
"I know."
"What did he tell you?"
"That if Dad ever contacted Mercer again, I was supposed to make sure the records reached the right person."
"Who?"
She started crying.
"Emily, I thought Mercer was trying to protect Lily."
"Protect her from what?"
Miranda whispered:
"From our father."
Then someone knocked on my front door.
Three slow knocks.
David looked at me.
I moved toward the window.
A black sedan sat at the curb.
No headlights.
No movement.
Then my phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
May you like
One message.
You have until midnight to stop digging.
