Chapter 5 - THE PARENTS I NEVER KNEW
My parents died in a car accident when I was two.
That was the story.
Grandma had repeated it so often that I could say every detail.
Rainy road.
Truck crossed the center line.
Instant.
No suffering.
Now Charles Mercer was telling me they had been killed.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You’re lying.”
Mercer looked tired.
“I wish I were.”
“Why would anyone kill my parents?”
“Because your father found the ledger.”
I stared.
“My father?”
Vincent stepped closer to the glass.
“Who was Claire’s father?”
Mercer laughed softly.
“You never asked Eleanor?”
“I didn’t know there was anything to ask.”
Mercer’s expression turned strange.
“Daniel Bennett.”
Vincent’s face changed.
Luke swore behind us.
I turned.
“What?”
Vincent looked at me.
“Daniel Bennett worked for my father.”
My knees weakened.
“In what way?”
“He audited shipping accounts.”
Mercer continued.
“Daniel discovered money being redirected into private companies. He copied records.”
“My mother?”
“Rachel Bennett. She was a nurse.”
That I knew.
“She found out someone was using medical charities to move cash.”
My chest tightened.
Both of them.
Both were connected.
“Arthur Hayes asked Eleanor to hide Claire,” Mercer said.
“Why would he help us?” I asked.
“Because Daniel saved him from prosecution by proving some financial crimes had been committed without Arthur’s knowledge.”
Vincent stared.
“My father wasn’t innocent.”
“No,” Mercer said.
“But he wasn’t guilty of everything people thought.”
The detective asked:
“Who killed Daniel and Rachel Bennett?”
Mercer looked toward Vincent.
“Ask his mother.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“My mother died ten years ago.”
Mercer’s smile disappeared.
“No.”
Silence.
“What?”
“She disappeared.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“I buried her.”
“You buried an empty coffin.”
Vincent’s face drained of color.
I stared at him.
Mercer continued.
“Margaret Hayes arranged her own death after Arthur discovered the truth.”
Vincent looked physically ill.
The detective leaned forward.
“Where is Margaret now?”
Mercer closed his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“But Eleanor does?”
“Yes.”
I stepped toward the glass.
“Then where did Grandma go?”
Mercer hesitated.
“St. Agnes.”
“The church?”
“No.”
“What?”
“St. Agnes Home.”
I knew the name.
An abandoned assisted-living facility outside the city.
Grandma once volunteered there.
Vincent called Luke.
“Get teams there now.”
Mercer lifted his head.
“Too late.”
Vincent turned.
“What?”
“They already know where she is.”
My heart hammered.
“Who?”
Mercer looked at me.
Then whispered:
“The same people who called you.”
He pointed toward Luke.
“And one of them has been standing beside Vincent for years.”
Luke went still.
Vincent turned toward his bodyguard.
May you like
Mercer smiled.
“Ask Luke what his real last name is.”
