Chapter 5 - THE FILE THEY KEPT ON MY FATHER
Dad died of pancreatic cancer.
There was no mystery about that.
At least, I thought there wasn’t.
So hearing Patricia say Thomas Mercer had Dad’s medical records did not make me think murder.
It made me think leverage.
I was right.
Mostly.
Thomas had obtained summaries of Dad’s condition nine months before Dad told the company publicly.
Portwell knew Robert Ellison was dying before most of our board did.
That explained their timing.
As Dad’s health declined, Portwell increased pressure to acquire Harbor Street.
Thomas saw an opportunity.
If Dad died, I inherited control.
If Daniel married me, Thomas believed his son could influence the decision.
Daniel had started dating me two years earlier.
My stomach turned.
“Was our first meeting arranged?”
Daniel sat across from me the following day.
Martin and both attorneys present.
He looked exhausted.
“Yes.”
The word cut deeper than I expected.
We had always told the story affectionately.
A charity auction.
One remaining seat.
Daniel spilled sparkling water on my program.
We laughed.
Then talked until midnight.
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“Did your father send you?”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
“Why?”
“He wanted information about Robert.”
“The company?”
“Yes.”
“Harbor Street?”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly.
Four years rewritten with one answer.
Then Daniel leaned forward.
“But I stopped.”
“When?”
“After our third date.”
I laughed.
“You expect that to help?”
“No.”
“Did you continue speaking to Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him things?”
“Not for a while.”
“For a while.”
He closed his eyes.
“After your father got sick, he started pressuring me again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because then I had to tell you how we met.”
Exactly.
The first lie created a hostage.
Every later lie protected it.
“What did you give him?”
“General information.”
“Define general.”
“Board schedules.”
“My father’s health.”
“Portwell proposals.”
He looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“And in exchange?”
“Nothing at first.”
“Then?”
“The consulting payment.”
$250,000.
Daniel claimed Thomas told him Portwell wanted independent market analysis.
He knew the money was connected to Harbor Street.
He told himself it was not payment for betrayal because no sale had occurred.
“That sounds convenient.”
“It was.”
For once, no defense.
Then Martin showed Daniel the forged Portwell option.
Daniel stared at my copied signature.
“I never saw this version.”
“Which version did you see?”
“One without Claire’s signature.”
Everyone went still.
“So Thomas added it later.”
“I think so.”
Daniel reached for his phone.
Then stopped.
“What?”
I asked.
“My mother sent me something last month.”
He opened an email.
Attachment:
A revised management authority.
It looked similar to the papers I found in his briefcase.
But not identical.
The version Daniel claimed he intended to show me gave him narrow administrative authority.
The version in my house gave him power to negotiate financing.
Patricia or Thomas had switched pages.
Daniel looked sick.
“I was still deceiving you.”
“Yes.”
“But this…”
He touched the document.
“This isn’t what I agreed to.”
I believed him.
That did not make me forgive him.
Then Martin’s assistant entered.
Thomas Mercer had just arrived downstairs.
Unexpectedly.
He carried one banker’s box.
May you like
And according to security—
he wanted to speak only to me.
