Chapter 5 - The Man Who Helped Bury Her
Thomas Mercer smiled when Richard walked into his office.
That smile disappeared when Richard locked the door.
"Richard?"
Richard placed the repair invoice on the desk.
Then a photograph.
Then a copy of Harrison Hale's old will.
Thomas stared.
"What's this?"
"My wife is alive."
Thomas went completely still.
Richard noticed.
Most people reacted with disbelief.
Questions.
Shock.
Thomas reacted like a man hearing a gun cock behind him.
"You knew."
"No."
"Wrong answer."
Thomas stood.
"Richard, sit down."
"Did you see Claire the night she crashed?"
Thomas's eyes shifted.
"Who told you that?"
Richard smiled without humor.
"Also the wrong answer."
Thomas moved toward the window.
"It was twenty years ago."
"I remember the date."
"She came to see me."
"Why?"
"She was upset."
"About?"
Thomas exhaled.
"Your father."
"Keep going."
"She found financial documents."
"What documents?"
"Transfers."
"From where?"
Thomas hesitated.
"Hale family accounts."
"To whom?"
Thomas said nothing.
Richard stepped closer.
"To whom?"
"Me."
Richard stared.
Thomas sat.
Twenty years of friendship changed shape in seconds.
"Your father was investing through me."
"Illegally?"
"Sometimes."
"Claire found out."
"Yes."
"And?"
"She threatened to expose it."
Richard's hands curled.
"What did you do?"
"I tried to talk her down."
"Did you touch her car?"
"No."
"Did my father?"
"I don't know."
"Did you follow her?"
"No."
"You're lying."
Thomas slammed his palm on the desk.
"I DIDN'T TRY TO KILL HER!"
The room went silent.
Richard spoke softly.
"I never said someone tried to kill her."
Thomas realized his mistake.
Richard lunged across the desk.
He grabbed Thomas by the collar.
"What happened?"
Thomas's face reddened.
"Let go."
"What happened to my wife?"
"Richard."
"TELL ME."
Thomas broke.
"She survived the crash."
Richard released him.
The words struck harder than a punch.
"What?"
Thomas rubbed his neck.
"I found out two days later."
Richard could barely speak.
"You knew."
Thomas looked away.
"For twenty years."
Richard hit him.
One punch.
Thomas went backward into the desk.
Richard stood over him shaking.
"You knew she was alive."
"I thought she wouldn't survive!"
"Where was she?"
"A rural clinic."
"HOW?"
"Someone pulled her from the river."
Richard grabbed him again.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Thomas's eyes filled with fear.
"Your father."
Richard stopped.
"Harrison found out first."
Thomas wiped blood from his lip.
"Claire had severe head trauma. She didn't know who she was. Harrison paid the clinic to transfer her."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"I swear."
Richard slammed him into the chair.
"My daughter grew up without her mother because you were scared of my father?"
Thomas looked broken.
"It wasn't only fear."
"What else?"
Thomas whispered, "Money."
Richard stepped back.
There it was.
Simple.
Ugly.
Human.
Harrison had paid Thomas.
Millions.
The foundation of their business partnership.
Richard suddenly remembered every expansion Thomas had financed.
Every deal.
Every success.
Built partly on Claire's disappearance.
Richard felt sick.
"Get out of my company."
Thomas stared.
"What?"
"Your access is revoked as of today."
"Richard—"
"And if you contact Claire, Emma, or anyone near them, I'll make sure the police know everything before dinner."
Thomas laughed bitterly.
"You think this ends with me?"
Richard paused.
"What does that mean?"
Thomas looked at him.
"Your father is dead."
"I know."
"But the person who moved Claire after the clinic isn't."
Richard's jaw tightened.
"Who?"
"I never knew her name."
"Her?"
Thomas nodded.
"A woman handled it."
"What woman?"
"Your father called her 'M.'"
Richard's mind raced.
Margaret?
Marianne?
Then Thomas said:
"She wore a silver bird brooch."
Richard's stomach dropped.
He knew that brooch.
His mother had owned one.
But his mother had died five years before the crash.
Then another memory surfaced.
Harrison's longtime personal secretary.
Marjorie Bell.
She had worn a silver swallow brooch every day.
Marjorie had retired suddenly the month after Claire disappeared.
Richard left without another word.
At the hospital, Claire was sitting by the window.
She looked stronger.
Still thin.
Still pale.
But alive.
Richard stood at the door.
She smiled.
"You found something."
He sat beside her.
"How can you tell?"
"You make the same face Emma does when she's hiding bad news."
Richard nearly smiled.
Then he told her.
Not everything.
Not yet.
He couldn't tell her that people they trusted had intentionally kept them apart.
Claire listened quietly.
When he finished, she stared at the rain outside.
"So I didn't disappear."
"No."
"They made me disappear."
Richard's voice cracked.
"Yes."
Claire began to cry.
He reached for her.
She let him hold her.
After a long silence, she whispered, "There was a woman."
Richard pulled back.
"What?"
"In the hospital."
"What did she look like?"
Claire squeezed her eyes closed.
"Older."
"Hair?"
"Dark."
"Anything else?"
Claire touched her chest.
"A bird."
Richard froze.
"A brooch?"
Claire's eyes opened.
"Yes."
Richard stood.
"Marjorie Bell."
The name triggered something.
Claire gasped.
A memory hit violently.
A corridor.
Rain outside.
A woman leaning over her hospital bed.
A silver bird pinned to a gray coat.
Claire's own voice asking, "Where is my husband?"
And the woman answering:
"Your husband doesn't want you anymore."
Claire covered her mouth.
Richard caught her shoulders.
"What?"
She looked at him, horrified.
"She told me you sent her."
Richard went pale.
"Claire, I never—"
"I know."
Her tears came harder.
"She told me Emma was dead."
Richard stopped breathing.
"She told me my baby died."
Richard pulled Claire against him.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Then Claire whispered into his chest:
"Find her."
Richard looked toward the window.
His grief had changed.
It was no longer helpless.
May you like
It had direction.
"I will."
