Chapter 3 - THE MAN USING MY SON'S NAME
Evelyn obtained an emergency hearing within twenty-four hours.
Not custody yet.
Evidence preservation.
That mattered more.
The judge ordered Dr. Voss’s office, Mercer Legal Services, and Northline to preserve all records related to Daniel.
Owen’s attorney objected.
The judge asked why an innocent law firm was afraid of preserving records.
The objection ended quickly.
Then the receptionist agreed to meet us.
Her name was Paula Finch.
Fifty-eight.
Former medical-office manager.
She chose a coffee shop near the courthouse and spent ten minutes looking over her shoulder before she sat down.
“I should have said something earlier.”
Evelyn did not comfort her.
“Then say it now.”
Paula swallowed.
“Dr. Voss kept two electronic directories for high-conflict evaluations.”
“One official?”
“One private.”
“Why?”
“I assumed litigation notes.”
“Daniel had files in both?”
“Yes.”
“What was different?”
“The official folder had his interview.”
“And private?”
“More sessions.”
“How many?”
“Seven.”
Daniel stared.
“I was there once.”
Paula nodded.
“I know.”
She remembered because the second man signed in after hours.
No receptionist.
No billing through insurance.
Owen often came with him.
“What did he look like?” I asked.
“Mid-thirties. Brown hair. Similar height to Daniel.”
“Face?”
“Different.”
“Did Voss know he was different?”
Paula looked at us like the question offended her.
“Of course.”
“What did they do?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes recorded interviews.”
Evelyn leaned forward.
“Were those recordings used in court?”
Paula looked at Daniel.
“I think pieces were.”
My son’s face drained.
The psychiatric report quoted statements Daniel never remembered making.
Maybe because he had never made them.
Someone else had.
“What about the medication list?”
Paula closed her eyes.
“That came from the private file.”
“Whose prescriptions?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could Dr. Voss have accidentally merged two patients?”
“No.”
“How are you so certain?”
“Because Mr. Mercer told me to combine them.”
Silence.
Daniel stood.
I caught his arm.
“Sit.”
His whole body shook.
“They built me.”
Paula started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“They created a mentally ill version of me and handed it to a judge.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Owen said the second man was an undercover compliance subject and identities had to be protected.”
Evelyn’s expression sharpened.
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
“Melissa came in.”
Daniel froze.
“When?”
“After the fourth private session.”
“What did she do?”
“She brought photos of the twins.”
I felt ice in my chest.
Paula continued.
“She asked Dr. Voss whether the report would be strong enough to limit unsupervised parenting.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
There was no misunderstanding now.
Melissa knew.
Not only about the report.
About the goal.
Paula reached into her purse.
“I kept one thing.”
A flash drive.
“I copied the appointment ledger before I quit.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought one day someone would ask.”
The ledger listed the fake Daniel sessions.
Alongside each was an internal code.
MFS-17.
Evelyn frowned.
“What is MFS?”
Paula shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
I did.
Or at least I recognized it.
Mercer-Foster Systems.
An old joint venture between my former company, Foster Aviation, and a defense contractor called Mercer Federal Systems.
Thirty years ago.
Long before Daniel married Melissa.
Her family name was Mercer.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
But Melissa had never told us of any connection to that company.
“What was Owen’s father’s name?” I asked.
Daniel frowned.
“Thomas Mercer.”
My pulse changed.
I knew Thomas Mercer.
Not well.
But enough.
In 1998, Foster Aviation had subcontracted avionics work to Mercer Federal Systems.
The relationship ended badly after we discovered billing irregularities.
I had reported them.
The government investigated.
Mercer Federal Systems lost two major contracts.
Thomas Mercer blamed me publicly.
Six months later, his company collapsed.
I had not heard his name in twenty-five years.
And somehow my son had married Thomas Mercer’s daughter.
Daniel stared at me.
“You know Grandpa Mercer?”
“Not as your children’s grandfather.”
“What does that mean?”
“I knew his company.”
His expression changed.
“You never said anything.”
“I didn’t realize Melissa was related to him.”
“She used her mother’s maiden name professionally when we met.”
“Which was?”
“Hayes.”
Of course.
Evelyn asked quietly:
“What happened between you and Thomas Mercer?”
“I testified in a federal contract-fraud investigation.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
“You testified against Melissa’s father?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know?”
“I don’t know.”
Paula looked terrified.
“What does that have to do with Dr. Voss?”
I looked at the code.
MFS-17.
Maybe everything.
Evelyn called her investigator.
“Find Thomas Mercer.”
The answer came twenty minutes later.
He had not disappeared.
He lived outside Lake Forest.
Large house.
Private security.
And according to property records, the house had been purchased three years ago.
Cash.
Buyer:
Harbor Strategic Consulting.
The same company receiving millions from Northline.
Daniel stared at the screen.
“My company bought her father’s house.”
“Not directly,” Evelyn said.
“Through the shell company.”
A shell company Northline paid.
A shell company apparently funding Thomas Mercer.
The corporate theft and the custody case were connected.
Then Daniel’s phone buzzed.
A message from Melissa:
THE BOYS COME BACK SUNDAY AT SIX.
DO NOT INVOLVE YOUR FATHER IN BUSINESS THAT DOESN’T CONCERN HIM.
Daniel showed me.
I typed nothing.
Then another message arrived.
This one from an unknown number.
Samuel Foster?
I stared.
Yes.
The reply came immediately.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET MERCER FEDERAL SYSTEMS DIE QUIETLY THE FIRST TIME.
Then:
YOUR SON IS PAYING FOR THE WAY YOU DESTROYED MY FAMILY.
Daniel looked at me.
“Dad…”
May you like
I knew before anyone said the name.
Thomas Mercer had finally entered the conversation.
