Chapter 5 - The Detective in the Parking Garage
I did not sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mara standing beside Victor Sloan.
The image could have been innocent. A meeting. An interview. A coincidence. But after a lifetime with my family, innocence felt like a luxury I could no longer afford.
Daniel sat at the small table beside my hospital window and spread Sofia's documents across the surface.
"If you think Mara is compromised, don't confront her yet."
"I know."
"You sounded like you were about to."
"I'm emotional, not stupid."
"You just had major surgery and your mother tried to drown you."
"She punched me. Gravity handled the drowning."
Daniel stared at me.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What?"
"You're making jokes."
"I do that when I'm terrified."
"Good to know."
We examined the statements.
Mariner Holdings claimed to invest in distressed commercial real estate. The returns were suspiciously smooth: 11.2 percent, 11.4 percent, 11.1 percent, month after month, despite a volatile market.
No legitimate fund moved that neatly.
More important, several consulting payments had gone to Vale Advisory Group.
Thomas Vale.
My possible biological father.
I traced the amounts with my finger. "Two hundred thousand. One seventy-five. Three twenty."
Daniel nodded. "Sofia never understood what these were."
"They weren't meant to be understood."
"Can you follow them?"
"If I get bank records."
"You used to do that for work."
"With subpoenas."
"So we need Mara."
"Or Camille."
At seven the next morning, Mara walked into my room carrying coffee.
I looked at her.
She looked at the papers.
"Why does it feel like I walked into an ambush?"
I slid my phone across the table.
The photograph of her and Sloan filled the screen.
Mara looked at it for less than a second.
Then she sighed. "Where did you get this?"
"Unknown number. Vanessa told me not to trust you."
"And you listened to Vanessa?"
"I listened to evidence."
Mara pulled out a chair. "That picture was taken after Sloan contacted me."
"Why?"
"He said Mercer Development was being extorted."
Daniel leaned forward. "By whom?"
"He wouldn't say."
"And you didn't tell me?" I asked.
"At the time, I was working a separate financial-crime inquiry. You weren't a complainant. You weren't even officially connected."
I studied her face. "Why meet in a parking garage?"
"He requested it."
"Convenient."
Mara's eyes hardened. "You can suspect me. You should suspect everybody right now. But do it intelligently."
She unlocked her phone and opened a file.
A recording began.
Victor Sloan's voice: "I can give you evidence against Richard Mercer, but my name stays out."
Mara's voice answered, "Not how this works."
"You don't understand what's involved."
"Then explain."
A long pause.
Sloan said, "Richard isn't the one running it."
The recording stopped.
Mara looked at me. "That was three weeks ago."
"Who is running it?"
"He refused to say."
Daniel and I exchanged a glance.
Vanessa.
Mara noticed. "What?"
I told her about Daniel's observation at the shower. Then Vanessa's phone call. Then the strange birth certificate.
Mara listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she said, "We verified the document."
I held my breath.
"It's authentic."
The room seemed to tilt.
"So Richard isn't my father."
"Biologically, no."
"Does Vanessa have one too?"
"We're looking."
"Who is Thomas Vale?"
Mara glanced at Daniel's papers. "Now we may have a lead."
She picked up Sofia's investor statement.
"Vale Advisory Group dissolved twelve years ago."
"Can we find the owner?"
"Already did."
She turned her phone toward me.
A corporate registration record appeared.
Thomas Adrian Vale.
Registered agent: Eleanor Mercer.
My grandmother.
I stared at the screen. "Grandma knew him."
"Looks that way."
"Why would she be his registered agent?"
"That's what we need to ask her."
Eleanor Mercer lived at Willow Glen Care Center, thirty miles inland. She had suffered a stroke eighteen months earlier and rarely spoke more than a few words at a time.
My mother controlled her visitors.
My father controlled her finances.
I had not seen her in four months.
Each time I tried, Mom said Grandma was asleep, sick, confused, or agitated.
Suddenly, those excuses looked different.
"I want to see her."
Mara nodded. "So do I."
The hospital refused to discharge me.
Camille threatened legal consequences if I left.
Emily threatened something worse.
"If you rip your incision open chasing criminals," she said, "I will personally staple you to this mattress."
So Mara went without me.
Daniel went too, carrying a voice recorder and Sofia's documents.
I waited beside Lily.
At noon, Grant appeared.
He looked exhausted.
Vanessa had thrown him out.
"She says I gave police the safe combination."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"Then she's right."
He sat. "I need protection."
"From Vanessa?"
"From Richard."
I stared.
Grant lowered his voice. "Last night I found something in my email drafts. Vanessa had been using my account to store documents."
"Why drafts?"
"Old trick. No messages actually sent."
"What documents?"
He handed me a printed page.
It was a list of payments. Dates. Amounts. Initials.
At the bottom, one line had been highlighted.
E.M. - life policy - $3,000,000.
My blood went cold.
"I don't have a three-million-dollar life insurance policy."
Grant's face turned gray. "Yes, you do."
"I would know."
"Not if someone opened it using the fake passport."
The room became very quiet.
"Who is the beneficiary?"
Grant swallowed. "Mercer Development."
I looked toward Lily's incubator.
My family had forged loans in my name. Created a passport in my name. Purchased life insurance on me.
Then my mother hit me into a pool while my father told everyone not to rescue me.
"Grant, when was the policy opened?"
"Four months ago."
"And when did they increase the coverage?"
He pointed to the page. "Three weeks ago."
The same week I discovered the forged loans.
My phone rang.
Mara.
I answered.
Her voice was urgent. "Evie, we're at Willow Glen."
"Did you see Grandma?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
"She recognized Thomas Vale's name."
My heart pounded. "And?"
Mara inhaled. "She wrote something."
"What?"
"Your grandmother says Thomas Vale is alive."
I gripped the bed rail. "Where?"
"That's the problem."
A crash sounded through the phone.
Then shouting.
May you like
"Mara?"
The line went dead.
