Chapter 2 - THE DEAD GIRL’S LETTER
Detective Torres reached the kitchen first.
The rear door stood open, swinging in the cold evening wind, while a broken flowerpot lay across the floor and wet footprints disappeared into the backyard.
“Judith!”
No answer.
Torres radioed the officers parked outside.
“Suspect exited through the rear of the residence. Lock down the perimeter.”
Evan rushed into the kitchen despite her order.
“Where did she go?”
“I told you to stay inside.”
“That’s my mother.”
Torres looked directly at him.
“Tonight, Mr. Mercer, you need to start understanding that those words do not make her harmless.”
Evan stopped.
He had spent thirty-two years treating his mother’s intentions as evidence of her innocence.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
Robert appeared behind them.
“She knows the property.”
Torres turned.
“So do you.”
Robert’s jaw tightened.
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything yet.”
Claire remained near the living room doorway.
Her face had gone pale.
Evan immediately moved toward her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’ve been shaking for six months.”
That answer silenced him.
Detective Torres ordered everyone back into the living room while officers searched the woods behind the Mercer home.
Then she placed Grace’s letter on the table.
The paper was old and folded repeatedly.
Evan stared at it for several seconds before finally opening it.
The first line nearly broke him.
Evan,
If you’re reading this, Mom probably told you I ran away.
She will say I’m unstable.
She will say I’m angry.
She will tell Dad I’ve been stealing money or taking drugs or seeing dangerous people.
None of that is true.
Evan stopped reading.
His hands shook.
Robert stared at the floor.
Claire watched him carefully.
He forced himself to continue.
I found statements from Grandmother Mercer’s trust.
Mom has been moving money.
A lot of money.
I asked her about it tonight, and she told me I had no idea what she had done to keep this family together.
If anything happens to me, look inside Dad’s old hunting cabin.
Do not go alone.
And Evan—
If she cries, remember she can cry whenever she needs to.
I love you.
Grace.
The letter ended there.
Evan lowered it.
No one spoke.
Finally he turned toward his father.
“What trust?”
Robert rubbed both hands over his face.
“My mother created it.”
“How much money?”
Robert hesitated.
“Originally? Around twelve million.”
Evan’s eyes widened.
“Originally?”
“With investments, property, and company shares, perhaps forty now.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Evan looked between them.
“You knew too?”
Claire answered softly.
“I found the trust documents after I found Grace’s letter.”
“And nobody told me?”
Torres stepped in.
“Your wife tried.”
Evan turned.
The detective opened her notebook.
“March fourth. Claire told you she believed your mother was entering the nursery without permission.”
Evan said nothing.
“March ninth. She told you medication had been moved.”
Silence.
“March eighteenth. She told you your mother had threatened her.”
Evan’s face tightened.
Torres continued.
“You told Claire she was stressed because of pregnancy.”
Claire looked away.
Each sentence landed harder than the previous one.
“You later asked her to apologize to Judith for creating tension.”
Evan’s voice was barely audible.
“Stop.”
Torres didn’t.
“You wanted to know why she didn’t tell you about Grace?”
She pointed toward Claire.
“That’s why.”
Evan looked at his wife.
For months, Claire had been telling him pieces of the truth.
He had trained her to stop.
Outside, an officer shouted.
Everyone turned toward the windows.
Detective Torres moved quickly to the front door.
Officer Mason approached from the darkness.
“We found her car.”
“Where?”
“Still in the garage.”
Torres frowned.
“Then how did she leave?”
Mason glanced toward Robert.
“She didn’t leave alone.”
Evan felt something cold move through him.
“What does that mean?”
The officer held up his phone.
A security camera from the highway had captured an SUV leaving a private road behind the Mercer property twelve minutes earlier.
Black vehicle.
No visible license plate.
Two people inside.
Judith was in the passenger seat.
The driver’s face could not be seen.
Robert suddenly gripped the edge of the table.
Claire noticed.
So did Torres.
“Mr. Mercer,” the detective said slowly.
“Who owns the hunting cabin Grace mentioned?”
Robert didn’t answer.
Torres stepped closer.
“Robert?”
His eyes remained on Grace’s letter.
Finally, he whispered:
“That cabin burned down fifteen years ago.”
Evan stared at him.
Grace disappeared sixteen years ago.
The cabin burned exactly one year later.
Torres’s expression hardened.
“Who started the fire?”
May you like
Robert looked toward his son.
“I did.”
