Chapter 6 - Thomas Knew
Sarah sat behind Thomas’s old desk.
Claire stood beside her.
Noah closed the study door.
Sarah continued reading.
Julian has been moving money.
I do not yet know how much.
I have intentionally allowed him to believe he controls Mercer Development.
He does not.
Sarah looked up.
Claire whispered.
“What?”
Sarah returned to the letter.
The voting shares remain inside the Mercer Family Trust.
You are successor trustee.
Do not confront Julian until he attempts to leverage the house.
If he does that, it means the company’s liquidity problem has become severe.
Sarah’s mouth went dry.
Another sheet was folded behind the letter.
It contained account numbers.
Corporate entities.
Bank names.
And three names Sarah recognized.
Julian Mercer.
Victoria Blake.
And Nathan Cole.
Claire pointed at the third name.
“Who is Nathan Cole?”
Sarah knew.
“Your father’s former CFO.”
Claire looked shocked.
“He died.”
“Four years ago.”
Noah leaned over the desk.
“Then why is his name here?”
Sarah read the last paragraph.
Nathan discovered irregular transfers eighteen months before my diagnosis.
He believed Julian was using shell companies to extract money.
Before Nathan could finish his review, he died in what police ruled a boating accident.
Claire sank into a chair.
“Oh my God.”
Sarah felt a chill.
Thomas continued.
I do not know whether Nathan’s death was connected.
Do not assume anything.
Trust records.
Not people.
Inside the envelope was a small brass key.
No label.
No explanation.
Sarah searched the rest of the safe.
Nothing.
Noah examined the key.
“It’s too small for a door.”
Claire wiped her eyes.
“A safe-deposit box?”
“Maybe.”
Sarah’s phone rang.
Julian.
She declined it.
He called again.
She declined it again.
A text arrived.
YOU HAVE UNTIL NOON TOMORROW TO STOP THIS.
Then another.
ASK YOURSELF WHY THOMAS NEVER TOLD YOU EVERYTHING.
Claire read over Sarah’s shoulder.
“He’s threatening you.”
Sarah stared at the screen.
A third message appeared.
AND ASK YOURSELF WHAT HAPPENED TO NATHAN COLE.
Noah whispered.
“How does Dad know about the letter?”
Sarah slowly looked toward the safe.
Only three people had entered the study since Thomas died.
Sarah.
Claire.
And Julian.
Someone had searched this room before tonight.
Then a crash came from downstairs.
Noah jumped.
Sarah rushed into the hall.
The front door was still locked.
But one of the kitchen windows stood open.
Cold December air rushed inside.
On the kitchen floor lay broken glass.
And beside it was Thomas’s framed photograph.
Someone had thrown it down.
May you like
Across the photograph, written in black marker, were four words.
LET THE DEAD STAY BURIED.
