Chapter 6 - ELISE MERCER’S FATHER
Captain Elise Mercer did not flinch when I showed her Daniel’s message. Good. She said: “My father was Sheriff Raymond Mercer.” I knew the name. He had died ten years earlier. Local legend. Thirty years in law enforcement. Highway named after him. Then Elise said: “He was corrupt.” Silence. She had spent twelve years helping federal and state investigators unwind cases tied to him. Not publicly. Why secret? Ongoing prosecutions. Then: “He built relationships with towing companies, motels, insurers, bail bondsmen, and deputies.” Highway businesses. The network. Then: “Did he create this?” “Part of it.” Then Martin Shaw inherited pieces after Raymond died. Not as son. As protégé. Then Daniel’s warning: Do not tell Mercer where you go. Elise said: “He doesn’t trust me because my father recruited him.” What? Daniel had worked for insurance firms Raymond used to process staged losses. He was not innocent. Then: “Daniel moved money knowingly?” “At first.” My stomach turned. Then Elise said Daniel later became a confidential source. For whom?
Her. Four years earlier. That was why he vanished. She helped move him into protective relocation. Then: “You knew he was alive.” “Yes.” I felt rage explode. “You let me think he abandoned me.” “He insisted.” “I don’t care.” Then Elise said: “He believed if you knew, you could be pressured.” Again. People deciding ignorance protected me. Then: “Did he ask you to tell me anything?” “No.” Maybe true. Then: “Why is he warning me away from you now?” Elise looked tired. “Because someone inside my task force leaked Lucas’s status.” There. She did not know who. Then: “Daniel thinks it may be me.” Do you blame him? “No.” Good. Then Elise voluntarily stepped back from direct evidence custody. Another captain from state headquarters assumed lead. That mattered. Then Daniel’s location. Protected. Unknown even to me. Then I replied to his message: I’m not leaving. No answer. Then Room 214 flash drive produced another clue. A spreadsheet labeled: MERCER LEGACY. Payments from old sheriff-era shell companies. One recipient: E. MERCER. Elise. $48,000.
May you like
She stared. “I never got that.” Then bank trace. Account opened in her name twenty years earlier when she was in college. Controlled by Raymond. Funds paid tuition. Her father laundered money through her education. Elise cried. “I thought he paid from salary.” There. She had benefited unknowingly. Then one investigator said: “This does not make you complicit.” True. Still painful. Then another recipient: NORA HAYES. My name. $22,500. I stared. I had never received it. Then account trace. A savings account opened during my marriage to Daniel. Joint? No. Sole in my name. Address: Our old house. Signature: Mine. Not mine. Then withdrawals paid our mortgage for six months before divorce. Daniel had used network money to keep our house current. I had benefited too. Unknowingly. Then the moral lines blurred again. Then one final ledger entry: NORA EXIT PACKAGE — $75,000 — NEVER DELIVERED. What exit? Daniel had apparently set aside money when he disappeared. For me. It remained in escrow. Then note: If she takes it, Shaw says she’s bought. Daniel refused.
Good. Then another note: Derek will collect if needed. I realized Derek’s robbery might not have been random at all. He may have come to the diner to find money or evidence tied directly to me. Then investigators enhanced my phone recording. During the first seconds, before Derek shouted, he whispered something almost inaudible. “Where’s Hayes’s box?” Not cash. Hayes. Daniel. He came for a box. And Jack suddenly admitted there was one. Under the diner floor.
