Chapter 6 - The Letter From a Dead Man
My father had been dead for seven years.
Caleb had been shot only three weeks ago.
So when Vincent claimed Thomas Holloway knew who ordered the shooting, I thought he was lying.
"That's impossible," I said.
Vincent looked at me through the screen.
"Your father didn't predict the date, Grace. He knew who was preparing to take Caleb's place."
Caleb leaned forward in his wheelchair.
"Who?"
Vincent hesitated.
"Someone your father trusted before he discovered what the Mercer family was doing."
My heart started pounding.
"Dad worked as a city maintenance supervisor. He had nothing to do with organized crime."
Vincent shook his head.
"That wasn't his only job."
I stared at him.
For years, Dad had come home exhausted, his hands stained with grease, his boots covered in dust. He'd told me he worked extra shifts maintaining municipal buildings.
He'd never mentioned the Mercer family.
Vincent continued.
"Your father was helping me investigate financial crimes connected to Mercer Shipping. He was the person who got me out of Chicago when my father ordered me silenced."
Caleb closed his eyes.
"Our father ordered your death?"
Vincent nodded.
"After I refused to help him steal from the company's retirement accounts."
Silence filled the room.
I remembered Dad's final illness.
The strange visitors.
The telephone calls he'd answered outside.
The night he'd told me never to accept favors from powerful men.
Suddenly, those memories felt different.
"Where is the letter?" I asked.
Vincent looked toward someone outside the camera's view.
A woman handed him a yellow envelope.
My father's handwriting covered the front.
FOR MY GRACE, WHEN THE MERCER FAMILY FINALLY TELLS THE TRUTH.
I started crying.
Vincent held the letter toward the camera.
"Your father asked me to give this to you if anyone connected to the Mercer family ever put you in danger."
I looked at Caleb.
He was staring at the envelope.
"Why did Grace get hired here?" he asked suddenly.
I frowned.
"What?"
Caleb turned toward Gabriel.
"Who recommended her?"
Gabriel checked his tablet.
"Owen Pike approved her application."
My stomach dropped.
I remembered my interview.
Owen had barely glanced at my résumé.
He'd hired me the same afternoon.
At the time, I'd been grateful.
Now I felt sick.
Vincent's expression hardened.
"Grace, you were never supposed to be a housekeeper."
I stared at him.
"What do you mean?"
He took a breath.
"Your father left evidence hidden inside the Mercer estate. Owen hired you because he believed you'd eventually lead him to it."
I looked around Caleb's study.
Two years.
Two years cleaning rooms, changing linens, and polishing furniture inside a mansion filled with secrets.
Then Vincent said something that made Caleb's expression turn deadly serious.
"Owen knew about the evidence because he was there when your father died."
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I covered my mouth.
"And, Grace, the man who signed your father's death certificate was the same surgeon who operated on Caleb."
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