Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO CAME BACK
David Mercer looked older, but his eyes had not changed.
Cold.
Patient.
Measuring everyone in the room before deciding who mattered.
Lauren stared at him.
“You came to my father’s funeral.”
David’s gaze moved toward her.
“You look like him.”
“Don’t.”
She stepped behind Ethan.
Richard moved forward.
“How did you know we were here?”
David smiled faintly.
“Evelyn called me.”
Every head turned.
Evelyn immediately said:
“I called him because I wanted answers.”
Richard looked sick.
“After everything you just admitted?”
“I didn’t know about the deposit box.”
Samuel pointed toward David.
“Tell them.”
David glanced at him.
“Tell them what?”
“That Thomas discovered your forged deeds.”
David sighed.
“This was twenty years ago.”
“My father died because of it!” Lauren shouted.
David’s expression barely changed.
“There is no evidence connecting me to Thomas’s death.”
I stepped toward him.
“What happened the morning he died?”
For the first time, David looked directly at me.
“He came to see me.”
My heart hammered.
“Where?”
“My office.”
“Why?”
“To make a deal.”
“He would never make a deal with you.”
David’s lips tightened.
“Everyone makes deals when frightened enough.”
Lauren suddenly moved toward him.
Ethan caught her arm.
“What did you do to him?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did he come home dying?”
Silence.
It lasted half a second too long.
Richard noticed.
So did I.
“What happened?” I demanded.
David looked toward the cassette player.
“Thomas was dramatic.”
Samuel laughed bitterly.
“He recorded this because he expected to be killed.”
“No,” David said. “He expected people to believe him.”
Lauren reached for the birth certificate lying inside the box.
“What does this have to do with any of it?”
David’s eyes flicked toward the document.
Again, too quickly.
Lauren saw it.
She opened the certificate.
Everything looked normal.
Thomas Miller.
Father.
Margaret Miller.
Mother.
Lauren Grace Miller.
Then Ethan noticed something on the back.
“There’s writing.”
Lauren turned it over.
A note had been written in Thomas’s handwriting.
Ask Margaret about August 14, 2002.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Lauren stared at me.
“What happened on August fourteenth?”
I knew exactly what happened.
It was the day Lauren had nearly died as an infant.
She had been only eleven months old when she developed a sudden infection.
The hospital needed a specialized blood product immediately.
The local supply had been depleted.
A private medical transport brought it from another county.
We never learned who arranged it.
I looked at Richard.
His face had gone pale too.
“You,” I whispered.
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
David laughed softly.
Everyone turned.
“That,” he said, “was Thomas’s biggest secret.”
Lauren stared at him.
“What secret?”
David’s smile disappeared.
“The person who paid to save your life wasn’t Richard.”
He looked directly at me.
“It was your father’s enemy.”
May you like
Then he pointed to himself.
“It was me.”
