Chapter 4 - The Woman Beside the Christmas Tree
Molly would speak only with Rebecca present.
She sat in a hospital room wearing donated Christmas pajamas while a social worker remained nearby.
Jonathan stayed by the door.
Molly looked at Rebecca.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I knew Mr. Cole was lying to you.”
“You’re fifteen. His lies are not your responsibility.”
Molly stared at her hands.
“My mom cleans offices. I went with her one night because our heat was broken and her boss let me sit in the lobby.”
“What office?”
“Mercer Family Services.”
Jonathan’s stomach tightened.
Molly had seen Cole enter after midnight with a woman.
“She had blond hair. Red coat. Fancy boots.”
“What did they say?”
“I only heard pieces.”
Molly remembered the woman saying Rebecca had become “too suspicious” and Lucy had to be moved before Jonathan discovered her.
Then Cole noticed Molly.
He followed her home days later and convinced her mother that Molly had stolen something from his office. When Molly confronted him, he forced her into his car and later kept her hidden while telling Rebecca she was a runaway relative.
Santos asked, “Do you know the woman’s name?”
Molly nodded.
“Caroline.”
Jonathan went still.
Caroline Mercer was his wife.
His second wife.
They had been married for nineteen years.
Rebecca whispered, “Your Caroline?”
Jonathan could not answer.
Caroline was supposed to be in Boston organizing a Christmas fundraiser.
Frank confirmed she had never arrived.
Jonathan called.
Voicemail.
He returned to his Manhattan home with police.
The Christmas tree lights were still on.
Caroline’s closet was half empty.
Her passport was gone.
On Jonathan’s desk sat a handwritten card.
Merry Christmas, Jon. Some families are safer as memories.
Rebecca read it over his shoulder.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Jonathan searched his own memories.
Caroline had always discouraged him from revisiting Rebecca’s disappearance.
“You did everything you could,” she used to say.
Apparently he had not.
Rebecca saw his expression.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Turn yourself into the victim because it’s easier than being angry.”
Jonathan looked at her.
She continued, “You trusted your wife. That wasn’t a crime. But you also stopped looking for me.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
It was not forgiveness.
It was better.
It was truth.
Police found a burner phone in Caroline’s desk.
Messages connected her to Cole.
One read: KEEP THE CHILD TIRED. SHE TALKS TOO MUCH WHEN SHE FEELS SAFE.
Rebecca had to leave the room.
Jonathan remained.
He read every message.
Cole complained that Lucy resisted him, hid food for her mother, and asked too many questions.
Caroline advised stricter routines and isolation.
Nothing excused Cole’s conduct. But the messages showed cruelty had been planned as control, not random anger.
Santos said, “We’ll find her.”
Jonathan stared at the tree.
“There’s one place she’d go.”
“Where?”
“The family lodge.”
It stood in Pennsylvania, two hours away.
Police reached it near midnight.
Caroline was gone.
But someone had been there.
A fire burned low.
Two wineglasses stood beside the fireplace.
On the table sat an old Mercer company ledger.
Beside it was a photograph of Jonathan’s father, Edward, Gordon Pike and a young Arthur Vale.
The four men were standing beside the original Mercer hardware store.
On the back Caroline had written:
THE COMPANY WAS NEVER YOUR FATHER’S TO GIVE AWAY.
Rebecca looked at Jonathan.
“What does that mean?”
Jonathan remembered a story his father told only once.
Before Mercer Industries existed, there had been a fifth partner.
A mechanic named Samuel Price.
Samuel vanished after being accused of theft.
Jonathan had been twelve.
“What happened to him?” Rebecca asked.
“I was told he ran.”
Santos turned another page of the ledger.
A payment appeared every December for forty-seven years.
Recipient: S. PRICE TRUST.
The most recent payment had been made three days earlier.
May you like
The recipient was not dead.
And the mailing address belonged to Mrs. Alvarez.
