Chapter 9 - THE DEAD WOMAN WHO WASN’T DEADDaniel refused to believe it.
“My mother died.”
Sam looked at him.
“That’s what Thomas told everyone.”
“I went to her funeral.”
“There was no open casket.”
Daniel remembered.
He had been twelve.
His mother’s death had been explained as a hiking accident in another state.
Thomas said the body was too badly injured for viewing.
Daniel had cried beside a closed coffin.
Rebecca had been nine.
For decades neither questioned it.
“Why would Dad lie?”
Sam shook his head.
“I don’t know the whole story.”
“But you knew she might be alive.”
“I suspected.”
“You suspected my mother was alive and never told me?”
Sam stood.
“Daniel, your father made everyone believe Evelyn was dead.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“I saw a woman once, years later, who looked like her.”
“Where?”
“Blackwood North.”
Daniel felt suddenly dizzy.
“When?”
“About fifteen years ago.”
“And you said nothing?”
“She disappeared before I could speak to her. Thomas told me I was mistaken.”
Daniel looked at Rebecca.
She had come downstairs during the conversation.
Her eyes were full of tears.
“Mom’s alive?”
“I don’t know.”
“But Ethan saw her.”
Ethan looked between the adults.
“I didn’t know she was Grandma.”
Daniel hugged him.
“You couldn’t.”
Marcus searched public databases.
There was no current Evelyn Mercer.
Her death certificate existed.
Signed by Patrick Beaumont.
Of course.
Daniel stared at the document.
Everything led back to Claire’s father.
Evelyn’s supposed death.
Laura’s accident.
Land transfers.
Victor.
Blackwood North.
“What did Ethan say she asked?” Marcus said.
Daniel repeated it.
Is Laura’s box still safe?
That meant Evelyn knew about Laura’s evidence.
Possibly before Laura died.
Sam walked to the window.
“If Evelyn came back now, it means something changed.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel thought about Claire’s sudden desperation.
Maybe Claire hadn’t returned because Ethan found the box.
Maybe someone told her Evelyn had appeared.
The investigation shifted immediately.
Marcus circulated an old photograph of Evelyn.
Ethan identified her without hesitation.
“That’s the lady.”
Daniel stared at the image.
His mother had been beautiful.
Dark hair.
Strong expression.
He barely remembered her voice.
“Did she say anything else?”
Ethan thought.
“She told Atlas he was a good boy.”
Sam laughed softly despite the tension.
“She always loved horses.”
Daniel looked toward the stalls.
Atlas was twenty-seven years old.
Old for a horse.
He had belonged to Evelyn before Laura.
Daniel had forgotten.
Thomas gave Atlas to Laura because she reminded him of Evelyn around animals.
The connection struck Daniel deeply.
The same horse had known all three generations.
Evelyn.
Laura.
Ethan.
And Atlas had guarded the box.
By afternoon, deputies located security footage from a gas station twelve miles away.
An elderly woman matching Evelyn’s appearance had purchased fuel three days earlier.
She drove an old green Jeep.
The plate belonged to a trust in Montana.
Marcus traced the trust to an attorney named Helen Ward.
Daniel recognized the name.
Helen had once worked for the Mercer Foundation.
She resigned shortly after Evelyn’s supposed death.
Marcus called her.
No answer.
Daniel called from his personal phone.
On the third attempt, a woman answered.
“Hello?”
“This is Daniel Mercer.”
Silence.
Then:
“Daniel.”
He knew instantly.
Not logically.
Emotionally.
The voice was older.
But something inside him remembered it.
“Mom?”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
The woman began crying.
“Oh, Daniel.”
He couldn’t speak.
Thirty years collapsed into two words.
“Are you alive?”
A broken laugh came through the phone.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I can explain.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t disappear again.”
“I had to.”
“For thirty years?”
“To keep you and Rebecca alive.”
Daniel’s anger mixed with grief.
“Who were you hiding from?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“The person who destroyed your father.”
“Patrick Beaumont?”
“No.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Claire?”
“Claire was only a child when it started.”
Daniel frowned.
“Then who?”
Evelyn whispered:
“Someone inside the Mercer family.”
Daniel stared at Rebecca.
“Who?”
The call crackled.
Then another voice sounded faintly in the background near Evelyn.
A man.
Evelyn gasped.
“Daniel, I have to go.”
“No!”
“Listen to me. Do not trust the foundation records.”
“Mom—”
“Find Thomas’s original will.”
“Where?”
“Laura knew.”
The call ended.
Daniel immediately called back.
The number was unavailable.
Rebecca began crying.
“She’s alive.”
Daniel sat motionless.
His mother had hidden for three decades because someone inside their family had threatened them.
Then Marcus said something.
“Thomas’s will.”
Daniel looked up.
“What about it?”
“Who handled the estate?”
Daniel knew the answer.
His father’s oldest friend.
Attorney Charles Whitmore.
Charles had advised the Mercer family for forty years.
He had overseen Thomas’s estate.
Managed the foundation.
Comforted Daniel after Laura died.
Recommended therapy.
Introduced Daniel to several charity organizations.
And one year later, Charles Whitmore had introduced Daniel to Claire Beaumont at a fundraising dinner.
Daniel stood slowly.
Someone Daniel trusts completely.
Laura’s unfinished recording echoed in his mind.
May you like
I think that person may be—
Charles.
