Chapter 2 - THE ACCOUNT WITH ETHAN’S NAME
The ambulance doors closed with Ethan inside.
Natalie lay strapped securely to the stretcher.
A monitor was clipped to her.
Another device tracked the baby’s heartbeat.
The rhythmic sound filled the ambulance.
Ethan stared at the monitor as if his life depended on every beat.
Maybe it did.
“Is that normal?”
The paramedic nodded.
“The heart rate is reassuring right now.”
“Right now?”
“We still need the hospital to evaluate her.”
Natalie turned her head.
“Ethan.”
He took her hand.
“I’m here.”
“You need to listen to me.”
“You need to rest.”
“No.”
Her voice became sharper.
“I waited too long already.”
Ethan looked at her.
Natalie swallowed.
“I wasn’t supposed to see the account.”
“What account?”
“The one with your name on it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because whoever created it used your middle initial wrong.”
Ethan frowned.
His full name was Ethan James Mercer.
His father had spent thirty-four years correcting people who wrote Ethan Joseph Mercer.
It had been a long-running family joke because Harold’s brother had been named Joseph.
“How was it written?”
“Ethan J. Mercer.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No.”
Natalie closed her eyes briefly.
“But the signature does.”
Ethan felt cold.
“What signature?”
“The authorization form.”
She opened her eyes.
“Someone copied your signature.”
The ambulance hit a slight bump.
Natalie grimaced.
Ethan immediately leaned closer.
“Stop talking.”
“I need you to understand.”
“You can tell me after the doctors check you.”
“What if your father gets there first?”
Ethan looked at her.
“Gets where?”
“To my laptop.”
The answer hit him immediately.
Their house.
Natalie’s work computer was in the study.
She worked as a forensic accountant.
She had spent nearly ten years examining financial records for mergers, audits, lawsuits, and corporate investigations.
Ethan had joked many times that she could smell a dishonest spreadsheet.
He had never imagined she would find one inside his own family’s company.
“Are the copies on your computer?”
“Some.”
“Where else?”
Natalie hesitated.
“Natalie.”
“I mailed a flash drive to myself.”
He stared.
“What?”
“To our post-office box.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her eyes filled.
Not with dramatic tears.
With something worse.
Shame.
“Because it was your father.”
Ethan’s expression softened.
“I didn’t want to accuse him without being sure.”
“Are you sure now?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
Ethan leaned back.
For most of his adult life, Mercer Development Group had been synonymous with his father.
Harold had inherited a small regional construction company from his own father.
He had transformed it into a powerful real-estate and commercial development business.
Ethan had joined after college.
Logan had joined three years later.
Ethan handled operations.
Logan handled vendor relations.
Harold controlled everything else.
At least Ethan had always believed he did.
“Why would he put money in my name?”
Natalie looked at him.
“To make it look like you took it.”
Ethan felt the air leave his chest.
“He wouldn’t.”
Natalie said nothing.
The silence hurt more than an argument.
“He’s my father.”
“I know.”
“He built the company for us.”
“I know.”
“He wouldn’t steal from it and frame me.”
Natalie’s gaze remained steady.
“Then why did he tell Logan I was getting too close?”
Ethan looked away.
The baby’s heartbeat continued filling the ambulance.
Strong.
Fast.
Steady.
For the first time since the staircase, Ethan allowed himself to feel fear beyond the physical danger to Natalie.
It was a different kind of fear.
The fear that his wife might be telling the truth.
At the hospital, Natalie was rushed into obstetric triage.
Ethan followed until a nurse stopped him outside an examination area.
“We’ll bring you in as soon as we can.”
“I’m her husband.”
“I understand.”
“She was pushed down stairs.”
“We know.”
“My brother did it.”
The nurse looked at him.
“I know you’re scared.”
Ethan forced himself to lower his voice.
“I need to be with her.”
“You will be.”
The doors closed.
Ethan stood alone in the hallway.
For nearly one minute, he did nothing.
Then his phone rang.
His mother.
He answered immediately.
“Mom.”
“Ethan.”
Diane sounded like she had been crying.
“Is Natalie all right?”
“They’re examining her.”
“The baby?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Oh God.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Where is Dad?”
Silence.
“Mom.”
“He left.”
Ethan’s eyes opened.
“What?”
“He left the house.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
Ethan thought of Natalie’s laptop.
“Is Owen still there?”
“Yes.”
“Put him on the phone.”
“Ethan, your father is furious.”
“Mom.”
Diane went silent.
“Put Owen on.”
Several seconds passed.
Then Owen’s frightened voice came through.
“Uncle Ethan?”
“Owen, I need you to do something.”
“Okay.”
“Do not leave the police.”
“I won’t.”
“Did they take Logan’s phone?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Logan’s yelling about it.”
“Let him.”
Ethan lowered his voice.
“Owen, did my father leave alone?”
“I think so.”
“Did he take his car?”
“Yes.”
“What direction?”
“I don’t know.”
Ethan ended the call and immediately pulled up the security application for his house.
The front camera showed nothing unusual.
The driveway camera showed Natalie’s SUV and Ethan’s truck.
The back camera showed the patio.
He switched to the study camera.
The screen was black.
Ethan frowned.
He refreshed it.
Still black.
He checked the app.
OFFLINE.
His heart began pounding.
The study camera had not been offline that morning.
He called the neighbor across the street.
“Mike, are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“I need a favor.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Can you look outside and tell me if anyone is at my house?”
There was a pause.
“Give me a second.”
Ethan stared at the hospital doors.
He could hear distant voices.
A cart rolled past.
Then Mike returned.
“There’s a black Mercedes in your driveway.”
Ethan’s stomach dropped.
His father drove a black Mercedes.
“Is someone inside?”
“No.”
“Mike, do not go over there.”
“What happened?”
“Just stay inside.”
Ethan ended the call.
He called 911.
Before he could finish explaining, another call appeared.
Harold.
Ethan stared at his father’s name.
Then answered.
“Where are you?”
Harold’s voice was calm.
“You need to stop this.”
“Are you at my house?”
“You’re emotional.”
“Get out of my house.”
“Ethan.”
“Get out.”
“I am trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Your wife.”
Ethan almost laughed.
It came out as a bitter breath.
“My wife is in a hospital because Logan pushed her down the stairs.”
“Logan made a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“He lost his temper.”
“You laughed.”
“I misread the situation.”
“You told him to teach her a lesson.”
Silence.
“Owen misunderstood.”
“The police have the recording.”
“You don’t know what is on that recording.”
“I know enough.”
“No.”
Harold’s voice hardened.
“You don’t.”
Ethan gripped the phone.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I came to prevent you from making another mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“Believing Natalie.”
“She found the money.”
Harold stopped speaking.
Ethan continued.
“Three point eight million.”
Nothing.
“She says there is an account in my name.”
Still nothing.
“That got your attention.”
Harold finally answered.
“You need to come here.”
“I’m not leaving the hospital.”
“We can fix this.”
“There is nothing to fix.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
“Then explain it.”
“I will when you get here.”
Ethan’s voice became quiet.
“Are you touching her computer?”
Harold did not answer.
Police sirens became audible through Ethan’s phone.
Not from the hospital hallway.
From Harold’s end of the call.
Harold cursed.
Ethan felt a grim flash of satisfaction.
“I told the police you were there.”
“You called the police on your own father?”
“You entered my house after my wife told me you might destroy evidence.”
“Evidence?”
Harold’s tone changed.
“You used that word.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“You need to understand something before you destroy this family.”
“You and Logan are doing a good job of that without me.”
Harold’s voice dropped.
“If the police see what Natalie found, you may be the one who goes to prison.”
The call ended.
Ethan stared at the screen.
For several seconds, he forgot to breathe.
Then the examination-room doors opened.
A doctor stepped into the hallway.
“Mr. Mercer?”
Ethan ran toward her.
“How is she?”
The doctor’s expression was professional but serious.
“Your wife is stable.”
“And the baby?”
“The baby’s heartbeat is strong.”
Ethan’s knees almost gave out.
He pressed one hand against the wall.
“Thank God.”
“But.”
He looked at her immediately.
“But what?”
“We are seeing signs that concern us.”
His relief vanished.
“What signs?”
“She’s having contractions.”
Ethan stared.
“She isn’t due for five weeks.”
“I know.”
“Is she in labor?”
“Not necessarily.”
The doctor spoke carefully.
“Trauma can trigger contractions.”
Ethan looked through the open door.
Natalie lay in the hospital bed.
Her eyes found him immediately.
The doctor continued.
“We’re also monitoring for placental complications.”
Ethan struggled to process the words.
“Can I see her?”
“Yes.”
He walked inside.
Natalie reached for him.
He took her hand.
“What happened?”
She studied his face.
“Your father was at our house.”
Her expression changed.
“My laptop.”
“The police got there.”
“Did he take it?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“There’s another reason I kept investigating.”
He sat beside her.
“What reason?”
Natalie looked toward the closed door.
Then back at him.
“The account in your name wasn’t opened recently.”
“How old is it?”
“Six years.”
Ethan frowned.
Six years ago, he had been working directly under Harold on the company’s biggest expansion.
Six years ago, Natalie had not even married him yet.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because money has been moving through it the entire time.”
“How much?”
Natalie’s voice was barely audible.
“More than twelve million dollars.”
Ethan stared at her.
May you like
Then her next words changed the entire shape of the nightmare.
“And Logan’s name appears on the withdrawals.”
