Chapter 3 - THE SECRET UNDER THE GARAGE
My attorney, Rachel Morgan, entered the hospital room while Derek was still demanding that I withdraw my statement.
Rachel wore a charcoal suit and carried a thick black folder.
She did not acknowledge Derek.
She walked directly to my bed.
“Abigail, do you authorize me to file for divorce, emergency financial protection, and a permanent restraining order?”
“Yes.”
Derek laughed.
“You think she has money for this?”
Rachel finally looked at him.
“Mrs. Mercer does not need your permission to access her own money.”
His expression shifted.
For years, Derek had controlled our joint account.
He gave me a weekly allowance from the salary I earned as a senior financial analyst.
What he never understood was that my employer deposited part of my compensation into a protected retirement structure established before our marriage.
Rachel had helped create it.
Derek could not touch it.
She also revealed that my grandmother’s estate had left me minority shares in a logistics company.
Derek had tried to transfer those shares using forged marital documents.
The transfer had failed.
His anger became visible.
“You hid assets from your husband.”
“I protected assets from a thief,” Rachel replied.
Margaret stood near the window wearing pearls and a cream coat.
She looked at my injured leg with annoyance.
“You are making one family mistake into a criminal circus.”
“She fractured my leg.”
“You insulted me in my own kitchen.”
“Your kitchen?” Rachel asked.
“The property is legally owned by Walter Mercer.”
Margaret smiled.
“Exactly.”
Rachel opened the folder.
“Not anymore.”
Walter’s face went pale.
Two weeks before my injury, he had signed a transfer assigning ownership of the home to a company called Blackstone Residential Care.
His signature had been notarized.
However, Walter claimed he had never seen the document.
Rachel had discovered it while freezing joint assets.
The company belonged to Derek.
He had already begun stealing from his own father.
Walter turned toward his son.
“You said those were insurance papers.”
Derek did not answer.
The family alliance began cracking.
Then Detective Ellis entered.
She told everyone except Rachel to leave.
Derek refused.
Two officers escorted him out.
Before the door closed, he shouted that I had poisoned the family against him.
Detective Ellis waited until the hallway became quiet.
“The garage search uncovered human remains,” she said.
My stomach tightened.
“How many?”
“We do not know yet.”
The false wall in Derek’s office had contained medical records belonging to four women.
All had been connected to the Mercer family.
One was a former housekeeper.
One had worked as Walter’s private nurse.
Another had been engaged to Derek before we met.
The fourth was listed as missing.
Her name was Melissa Grant.
Derek had told me Melissa cheated on him and moved to California.
Police found a bracelet beneath the garage floor.
The name Melissa was engraved inside.
The positive pregnancy tests found in the plastic box were connected to her medical records.
She had been pregnant when she disappeared.
My hands began trembling.
“Did Derek kill her?”
“We do not know.”
“But the evidence suggests the family concealed what happened.”
Walter requested a separate interview immediately.
He claimed Margaret and Derek handled everything in the house.
Margaret told police Walter was violent and controlling.
Derek blamed both parents.
The family that had worked together to break me began offering one another to the authorities.
Rachel reviewed financial records linked to Blackstone Residential Care.
The company did not only hold Walter’s house.
It held properties once owned by several elderly clients.
Each property had been transferred shortly before the owner entered a private medical facility.
I recognized the facility’s name.
Mercer Gardens.
Walter and Margaret owned it.
They had built their wealth by placing older people under guardianship, declaring them incompetent, and seizing their homes.
Derek managed the financial side.
My marriage had not been random.
They chose me because I worked in financial compliance.
They wanted access to systems that could hide their transfers.
When I refused to sign certain documents, I became a liability.
My broken leg was not the beginning.
It was the final stage of a plan.
Detective Ellis placed one photograph on my hospital tray.
It showed Melissa Grant.
She had red hair, green eyes, and a small scar above her eyebrow.
I stared at the face.
May you like
Then I looked toward the mirror across the room.
Melissa looked almost exactly like me.
