Chapter 3 - The Man in the CoatThe stranger didn’t move.
Neither did I.
Mom stood beside me, gripping the kitchen chair.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The man looked at my mother.
“You didn’t tell her.”
Mom’s lips trembled.
“Get out.”
He ignored her.
“My name is Daniel Mercer.”
I recognized the name.
My father’s oldest business partner.
The man who had spoken at his funeral.
The man who disappeared afterward.
“You knew my father?”
“I did.”
“What is this?”
I held up the flash drive.
“What was he involved in?”
Daniel’s eyes shifted toward the window.
“You have no idea what you’re asking.”
“I’m asking why a document from eleven years ago says I wasn’t supposed to marry Ryan.”
He went pale.
“Ryan?”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat down.
“Your father discovered something about the Hawthorne family.”
“What?”
“A financial scheme.”
Mom shook her head.
“Daniel…”
He continued.
“Money was being moved through companies that didn’t exist. Property was being transferred under false names. Your father traced it to Thomas Hawthorne.”
“And Patricia?”
“Not at first.”
“What do you mean?”
“She joined later.”
I felt sick.
“Why would my father make an agreement involving me?”
“Because Thomas made him an offer.”
“What offer?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Your father owned a company worth millions.”
“I know.”
“Thomas wanted controlling interest.”
“And Dad refused?”
“Yes.”
“So what does that have to do with Ryan?”
Daniel’s silence was answer enough.
I stood.
“Ryan knew?”
“We don’t know.”
I stared at him.
“He knew something.”
Daniel looked at Mom.
“You should tell her about the trust.”
Mom sat down.
Her shoulders collapsed.
“Your father created a trust for you.”
“I know about the trust.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“You know about your inheritance.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It isn’t.”
She explained that my father had placed a significant portion of his assets into a protected trust that would become fully accessible when I turned thirty.
I was twenty-nine.
My birthday was in four months.
I felt dizzy.
“Why is that important?”
Daniel answered.
“Because if you were married when the trust activated, certain conditions could be triggered.”
“What conditions?”
“Your spouse might gain legal access.”
I stared at him.
Ryan.
My husband.
Three months away from my inheritance.
My wedding had been three days ago.
A horrible thought entered my mind.
“You’re saying Ryan married me for my money?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Mom whispered, “We don’t know.”
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to call Ryan.
I wanted him to laugh and tell me this was all insane.
Instead, my phone vibrated.
Ryan.
I answered.
“What?”
His voice was quiet.
“Emily, where are you?”
“You know where I am.”
“No.”
“I’m at my mom’s.”
“Your mother’s?”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause.
Then he whispered:
“Don’t trust Daniel Mercer.”
I stared at the man standing six feet away from me.
Daniel heard his name.
Ryan continued.
“He’s not there to protect you.”
The call ended.
My hands shook.
I lowered the phone.
Daniel looked terrified.
“Who was that?”
“You know.”
He nodded.
“What did he say?”
“That I shouldn’t trust you.”
Daniel gave a bitter laugh.
“He would say that.”
“Why?”
“Because he needs you to think everyone except him is lying.”
I stared at Daniel.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He stood.
“I need to leave.”
“No.”
I blocked the doorway.
“You came into my house and warned me not to open my father’s box. Then my husband calls and warns me about you. Somebody is lying.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Daniel looked at me for several seconds.
Then he said:
“I’m not sure.”
He reached into his coat.
Pulled out an envelope.
And handed it to me.
“There is one person who knows the truth.”
“Who?”
He pointed at the photograph on the table.
A picture of my wedding.
Ryan smiling beside me.
Patricia standing behind us.
Madison on the other side.
And in the far corner, half hidden by a floral arrangement, was an elderly woman I had never noticed.
Daniel whispered:
“She was your father’s secretary.”
My eyes widened.
“What happened to her?”
May you like
Daniel stared toward the dark window.
“She disappeared the night your father died.”
