Chapter 5 - THE MAN BEHIND MADISON
Frank Mercer sounded older than I remembered.
But arrogance ages well.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Eleanor.”
My wife answered calmly.
“That usually means someone wants me to stop asking questions.”
I almost smiled.
That was Eleanor.
Frank laughed.
Then he said, “Madison only wants security.”
I leaned closer.
Eleanor asked, “Security for whom?”
“Her family.”
“My family?”
“No. Hers.”
There was a pause.
Then Frank explained.
Madison had approached him almost two years earlier.
She wanted to know how much I was worth.
Not because Eric knew.
Because Eric did not.
Frank had spent months feeding her information.
Some true.
Some guessed.
He told her about Hale River Ranch.
My investment company.
The suburban property.
Several old commercial holdings.
In exchange, Madison shared details about Eric’s debts.
His business.
Our living arrangement.
Even my health.
I stopped the recording.
My health.
I was healthy.
But two years earlier I had undergone minor heart surgery.
Madison knew.
Eleanor resumed.
“What exactly are you planning?”
Frank answered:
“Nothing illegal.”
That phrase has never once been followed by anything good.
He described a strategy.
Eric’s business would fail.
Madison would increase their debt.
I would step in to rescue them.
Then, gradually, ownership would blur.
Loans.
Guarantees.
Trust documents.
Eventually, if I became ill or died, Madison could argue that the properties had effectively become family assets.
Eleanor said, “Thomas will never sign that.”
Frank laughed.
“He won’t know he did.”
I stopped breathing for a second.
The forged will.
The loan.
My signature.
This had been planned.
Not improvised.
Planned.
Then Eleanor asked the question I needed answered.
“Does Eric know?”
Frank paused.
“No.”
Relief hit me.
Then he added:
“Not yet.”
That changed everything.
The recording ended minutes later.
I sat in silence until Samuel returned.
“Call Eric.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
He called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Samuel checked the location system attached to one of the family vehicles.
Eric’s truck was moving.
Fast.
Away from the suburban house.
Toward the ranch.
“He’s coming here,” Samuel said.
But ten minutes later, another vehicle appeared on the ranch gate camera.
A silver Mercedes.
Madison’s.
May you like
And she was not alone.
Frank Mercer was sitting beside her.
