Chapter 5 - THE HOUSE IN LAKE FOREST
Thomas Mercer agreed to see me.
That surprised everyone.
Evelyn told me not to go.
I went anyway.
Not alone.
Her investigator waited outside.
Mercer’s house sat behind stone gates overlooking Lake Michigan.
Large enough to remind visitors that financial collapse had apparently treated Thomas very gently.
He was seventy-one now.
Thinner than I remembered.
Same eyes.
He poured two glasses of bourbon.
I did not touch mine.
“You look old, Samuel.”
“So do you.”
He smiled.
“For years I imagined this conversation being more satisfying.”
“What conversation?”
“The one where you finally understand what it feels like to have someone strip everything away from your family.”
There it was.
No denial.
No confusion.
“You targeted Daniel because of me.”
Thomas sat.
“Daniel married my daughter.”
“Did you arrange that?”
He laughed.
“I’m not God.”
“Did Melissa know who I was when she met him?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“Did Daniel?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Melissa thought it was funny at first.”
I felt sick.
“Then?”
“She fell in love with him.”
That almost made everything worse.
“What changed?”
“Daniel built Northline.”
“So?”
“Northline won a contract.”
Thomas looked toward the water.
“Department of Veterans Affairs.”
I remembered.
Daniel called me when he won it.
Proud.
Terrified.
Thirty-million-dollar implementation.
Thomas continued.
“The software division that became Northline’s biggest competitor used to belong to Mercer Federal Systems.”
“You lost it after the fraud case.”
“I lost everything after your testimony.”
“You submitted false invoices to the government.”
“You testified they were false.”
“They were.”
He slammed his glass down.
“Your company was doing the same thing.”
“No.”
“You had change-order billing.”
“Authorized.”
“Because your friends approved it.”
There it was.
Twenty-five years of bitterness had polished itself into mythology.
“What does any of that have to do with sleeping twins in an airport parking lot?”
Thomas looked away.
For one second, shame.
Then gone.
“I told Melissa to leave Daniel alone.”
I laughed.
“Your employee impersonated my son for a psychiatric report.”
Thomas stopped.
“You know about Dalton.”
“Yes.”
He looked genuinely surprised.
That mattered.
“Did you order it?”
“No.”
“Did Owen?”
Thomas did not answer.
“Melissa?”
Silence.
“Owen created the plan, didn’t he?”
Thomas stared at the lake.
“My son is more ambitious than I ever was.”
There.
Not confession.
Close enough.
“What was Harbor Strategic Consulting?”
“My company.”
“You received millions from Northline.”
“For legitimate consulting.”
“What consulting?”
“Market access. Vendor relationships.”
“Your company had one employee.”
Thomas smiled.
“Very efficient.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I asked:
“Did Daniel know?”
“No.”
“Did the board?”
“Some.”
“So the company was being drained.”
“Northline was paying for opportunities.”
“Your house?”
His smile vanished.
Good.
“Northline paid Harbor. Harbor bought this property.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For admitting the money trail.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re recording me.”
“No.”
I tapped my temple.
“I’m old-fashioned.”
He almost smiled.
Then I asked the question that mattered.
“Why wait until Daniel built the company?”
Thomas’s face changed.
“Because it was never supposed to be his.”
I stared.
“What?”
He stood.
“Ask your son where the original Northline code came from.”
“He wrote it.”
“Some.”
My stomach tightened.
Thomas walked to a cabinet and removed an old binder.
MERCER FEDERAL SYSTEMS - CLINICAL LOGISTICS PLATFORM, 1999.
The diagrams looked primitive.
But one workflow seemed familiar.
Daniel had explained Northline’s architecture to me years ago.
Hospital inventory.
Device tracking.
Credentialed access.
The conceptual overlap was obvious.
“You’re claiming Daniel stole this?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Thomas turned a page.
Author:
MICHAEL FOSTER.
I stopped breathing.
My younger brother.
Daniel’s uncle.
Michael died twenty-two years ago.
Plane crash.
No wife.
No children.
“He worked for you?”
Thomas smiled without warmth.
“You really didn’t know your own family very well.”
Michael had been a software engineer.
I knew that.
I thought he worked in California.
Apparently, for eighteen months, he consulted for Mercer Federal Systems.
“What did Michael have to do with Daniel?”
“Before he died, he gave you something.”
“No.”
“A set of disks.”
I remembered.
A cardboard box from Michael’s apartment.
Old hard drives.
Papers.
I kept them for years.
Daniel found them in my garage when he was in college.
He asked if he could take the computers apart.
I said yes.
My stomach dropped.
“Daniel found Michael’s code.”
Thomas nodded.
“He rebuilt it without knowing what it was.”
“Then Northline is based on Michael’s work?”
“Partly.”
“Why didn’t you sue?”
Thomas laughed.
“Because litigation creates discovery.”
“What were you hiding?”
His face closed.
There.
The real center.
Mercer Federal Systems had never wanted old source code examined publicly.
Why?
“Michael found something,” I said.
Thomas picked up his drink.
“You should leave.”
“What?”
“My brother found the billing fraud.”
Silence.
“He was the one who gave me the information that led to my testimony.”
Thomas stared at me.
I understood.
For twenty-five years, he blamed me.
But Michael had been the source.
“Did you know before he died?”
Thomas’s eyes did not move.
“Get out.”
I stood.
“What happened to Michael’s plane?”
“Leave my house.”
“Was it an accident?”
He pressed a button.
Security appeared.
I walked toward the door.
Then Thomas said:
“Samuel.”
I turned.
His anger had disappeared.
Only fear remained.
“Stop digging.”
“Why?”
“Because Owen thinks this is about revenge.”
“And?”
“Melissa thinks it is about money.”
“And you?”
Thomas looked toward the old binder.
“I know what Michael actually found.”
“What?”
May you like
He whispered:
“Something the government paid a lot of people to forget.”
