Chapter 5 - THE PILOT WHO VANISHED
Colin Mercer had no wife.
No children.
No debt.
No criminal record.
He had flown medical helicopters for twelve years before moving into private aviation.
That mattered to Ortiz.
“People who fly medevac understand emergencies,” he said.
“And survival gear,” I added.
“And radios.”
Mara leaned over her laptop.
“Maybe Mercer knew exactly what your beacon was doing.”
That possibility had been bothering me.
What if the pilot wasn’t working with Evan?
What if he had seen enough to realize I was in danger?
At 9:06 a.m., Ortiz received the airport security footage.
We watched it in my room.
The helicopter landed at 2:42 p.m.
Evan stepped out first.
He looked frantic.
He ran toward terminal staff.
Perfect performance.
Mercer climbed out thirty seconds later.
He didn’t run.
He opened the rear cargo compartment.
Reached inside.
Removed a small black case.
Then walked away from the terminal.
Not toward the parking lot.
Toward a service road.
At 2:46, a black SUV appeared.
Mercer got inside.
The SUV left.
Mara paused the video.
“Whose vehicle?”
Ortiz already knew.
“Registered to one of Richard Vale’s companies.”
My stomach tightened.
“So Richard took him.”
“Or Mercer went willingly.”
“What was in the case?”
Ortiz zoomed in.
The image blurred.
But on one corner I saw a strip of yellow tape.
I knew that case.
“No.”
Mara looked at me.
“What?”
“That belongs to my father.”
“How do you know?”
“He used those cases for backup drives.”
My father had been obsessive about data.
Every quarter, he created encrypted copies of holding-company records.
After his death, most were transferred to Richard.
At least, that was what Richard told us.
“What would one of Dad’s drives be doing in Evan’s helicopter?”
Mara didn’t answer.
I already knew.
Whatever Evan and Richard were planning had started before that flight.
Maybe years before.
My phone—an unregistered replacement Mara purchased—buzzed.
Unknown number.
We all froze.
Ortiz held out his hand.
I gave him the phone.
A text message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD.
Mara whispered, “Evan?”
Ortiz shook his head.
“Too obvious.”
Another message arrived.
MERCER HAS WHAT YOUR FATHER HID.
Then another.
RICHARD WILL KILL HIM BEFORE SUNSET.
My pulse accelerated.
Ortiz typed nothing.
“Can you trace it?” I asked.
“Not immediately.”
The next message contained coordinates.
A location south of Carmel.
Ortiz stared at them.
“That’s close to Vale’s ranch.”
“Trap?”
“Probably.”
“Then we go.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Detective—”
“You are the key witness in an attempted murder. You’re injured, pregnant, and officially dead for strategic reasons. You are not walking into a possible ambush.”
“I’m not asking permission.”
Mara closed her eyes.
“Lauren.”
“What?”
She looked tired.
“This is exactly why your father hired me.”
“To stop me from doing stupid things?”
“Yes.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Ortiz copied the coordinates.
“I’ll send people.”
At 12:30 p.m., officers found an abandoned SUV.
Richard’s vehicle.
No Mercer.
No black case.
But there was blood in the back seat.
A lot of it.
My hope collapsed.
Then Ortiz received another call.
He listened.
His eyebrows rose.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“They found footprints leaving the vehicle.”
“Whose?”
“We don’t know.”
“Meaning?”
“Whoever bled in that SUV may have walked away.”
Mara’s laptop chimed.
A new encrypted email had arrived.
Sender:
CMERCER@PROTON.
Subject:
YOUR FATHER WAS RIGHT.
Mara opened it.
There was no message.
Only an attachment.
A photograph.
Evan and Richard stood inside my father’s office.
The timestamp was seven years old.
Three weeks before my father died.
Richard was holding a folder.
Evan was signing something.
I zoomed in.
The logo on the folder belonged to my family holding company.
My heart pounded.
“Why was Evan signing family documents before Dad died?”
Mara enlarged the image.
There was another figure reflected in the office window.
A woman.
Standing behind the camera.
Watching.
My stomach tightened.
I recognized her immediately.
“Mara.”
She stared at the reflection.
“No.”
“Yes.”
The woman in my father’s office with Evan and Richard seven years ago was my mother.
Before we could process it, another email arrived from Mercer.
May you like
This one had four words:
SHE KNOWS THE WHOLE STORY.
