Chapter 1 - THE COMPANY WASN'T WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS
Patricia Brennan did not sound like a woman who enjoyed surprises.
“Mr. Mercer, your wife discovered that three companies connected to Mercer Urban Development have been moving money through accounts opened in her name.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Shell companies.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Your wife said you would say that.”
I stood in the middle of our dining room, surrounded by the anniversary dinner Emily had prepared while I was in another woman’s bed.
“Emily doesn’t work for my company.”
“She doesn’t need to. She found the documents at home.”
My stomach tightened.
“What documents?”
Patricia continued.
“Last night, Mrs. Mercer opened your home office looking for the deed to the Pasadena house. She found a folder marked HARBOR.”
Harbor.
I knew the name.
A development project in Long Beach.
Warehouses converted into medical logistics facilities.
Or that was what my CFO, Miles Grant, had told me.
“What was inside?”
“Loan guarantees. Vendor agreements. Bank authorizations. Three documents carried Emily’s signature.”
My mouth went dry.
“She didn’t sign anything.”
“Exactly.”
I walked toward my office.
The bottom drawer of my desk was open.
Empty.
I had never kept Harbor documents there.
Someone else had.
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Patricia—”
“No.”
Her tone hardened.
“She is eight months pregnant. She discovered financial documents bearing forged signatures on the same night she confirmed her husband was cheating on her. Your first concern does not get to be her location.”
The words landed because they were deserved.
I sat down.
“What does she want?”
“A divorce.”
I closed my eyes.
“And?”
“She wants the court to freeze all jointly held assets until we determine how her name was used.”
My pulse rose.
“You think I did this?”
“I think Mrs. Mercer has spent six years trusting you.”
Silence.
Patricia continued.
“And last night proved that trust was not evidence.”
I had no defense.
Then my phone buzzed.
Miles Grant.
I almost ignored it.
Patricia said:
“Answer him.”
“What?”
“Emily received a message from Mr. Grant at 1:14 this morning.”
My entire body tightened.
“What message?”
Patricia read it.
EMILY, IF JAKE ISN’T HOME, DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING. CALL ME.
I stared toward the empty nursery.
“Why would Miles contact her?”
“That is what you need to ask.”
I answered his call.
“Jake.”
His voice was low.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then:
“Did Emily leave?”
“How do you know?”
“Because I told her to.”
I stood.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Miles exhaled.
“Someone inside Mercer Urban has been using your electronic credentials.”
My chest tightened.
“To do what?”
“To borrow against projects you don’t control.”
“How much?”
Silence.
Then:
“Forty-six million dollars.”
I gripped the table.
“And Emily?”
“Her name was used because she owns something you apparently never knew about.”
“What?”
Miles answered quietly.
“The Pasadena property isn’t the only asset in her name.”
“Her father left her controlling rights in the land beneath Harbor.”
May you like
I stopped breathing.
My wife had unknowingly been sitting on the one asset someone needed to complete a forty-six-million-dollar fraud.
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