Chapter 4 - The Brother Buried Without a Body
Caleb Mercer had buried his brother fifteen years earlier.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
Vincent Cross had once been Vincent Mercer.
The eldest son.
The original heir to the family organization.
Then he'd disappeared after a violent dispute with their father.
His car was found abandoned near the Chicago River.
A coat lay on the driver's seat.
The police presumed him dead.
No body was recovered.
Now he was standing beside Owen Pike in a hospital photograph.
I stared at Caleb.
"Why would he change his name?"
Caleb looked exhausted.
"Because he wanted the world to believe he was gone."
"Why?"
"My father disowned him."
I pulled out a chair.
"Over what?"
Caleb hesitated.
Then looked toward the lake.
"Vincent refused to take part in a business deal involving stolen money from employee pension funds."
I blinked.
"Your brother was trying to stop it?"
Caleb nodded.
"He wanted to expose our father."
"Then why did you believe he died?"
"Because my father told me he did."
Silence.
I thought about my own father.
The man who pushed everyone away because he feared abandonment.
Then I looked at Caleb.
A man who'd spent his life learning that family meant loyalty enforced through fear.
"What if Vincent is trying to help you?" I asked.
Caleb turned.
"By meeting Owen?"
"I don't know."
He studied me.
Most people told Caleb exactly what they thought he wanted to hear.
I didn't.
Because I had no idea what he wanted.
And I was tired of pretending.
Gabriel entered with another update.
"We located Vincent."
Caleb sat straighter.
"Where?"
"At a private medical clinic outside Milwaukee."
"Is he alone?"
"No."
Gabriel hesitated.
"He's with Dr. Reeves."
I stared.
"The missing surgeon?"
Gabriel nodded.
Caleb looked toward the window.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he turned.
"Arrange a secure meeting through my attorney."
Gabriel nodded.
But before leaving, he placed another photograph on the desk.
It showed Vincent standing outside the clinic.
Beside him was a woman holding a small boy's hand.
Caleb stared at the woman.
His face went white.
"Who is she?" I asked.
He swallowed.
"Rebecca."
I frowned.
"Rebecca who?"
Caleb looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
"Rebecca Mercer."
Then he whispered:
"My wife."
I stopped breathing.
Caleb had never mentioned a wife.
And according to the official family records, Rebecca Mercer died four years earlier.
May you like
But the boy beside her was alive.
And he had Caleb's eyes.
