Chapter 2 - The Secret Behind the Canvas
The painting hung crooked in Cade’s private study.
He had ordered it brought from the diner and placed under security until Serena was stable enough to explain.
Now, two mornings later, she stood in front of it wearing borrowed sweatpants and one of Cade’s black sweaters.
The garment hung off her shoulders.
“You got skinny,” he said.
Serena gave him a look.
“You got rich.”
“Neither sounds healthy.”
“Mine wasn’t voluntary.”
He deserved that.
Lena and Mara sat on the floor eating pancakes.
Not quietly.
Cade had discovered Mara considered syrup a beverage.
“Slow down,” Serena said.
“We have more,” Mara replied.
That sentence nearly broke Serena.
Cade pretended not to notice.
He focused on the painting.
“What am I missing?”
Serena approached it.
“Dad gave this to Mom before she died.”
Their mother, Caroline Mercer, had died of ovarian cancer when Cade was seventeen and Serena thirteen.
After her death, their father became harder.
Colder.
More obsessed with the business.
“He hated this painting,” Cade said.
“Yes.”
“Why keep it?”
“Mom made him promise.”
Serena turned the frame around.
The backing paper was old.
Repaired twice.
Near the upper edge, someone had inserted tiny brass screws.
Cade frowned.
“Those weren’t there before.”
“Ethan added them.”
She removed the screws.
A thin wooden panel came loose.
Behind it sat a leather envelope.
Cade stared.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“Ethan told me before he died that he hid something in the painting.”
“Why didn’t you open it?”
“I was afraid.”
“For seven years?”
“Yes.”
Cade understood fear more than he admitted.
He opened the envelope.
Inside were photocopied bank records.
Old.
Some dated twenty-two years earlier.
Some as recent as eight years ago.
Accounts linked to Mercer Development.
Payments to shell corporations.
Names.
Judges.
Police officers.
Union officials.
Politicians.
Cade’s throat tightened.
“This is Dad’s handwriting.”
Serena nodded.
“He wasn’t just bribing people.”
Cade flipped another page.
Payments labeled protection services.
Large amounts.
Cash withdrawals after each.
“What exactly did Ethan think this was?”
“He said Dad had been paying organized crews to threaten competitors.”
Cade looked at her.
“That doesn't mean—”
“Read the last page.”
He did.
A company name.
North Lake Mechanical.
Ethan’s employer.
Payment authorized three days before Ethan’s fatal workplace accident.
Cade’s hand stopped.
“No.”
Serena’s eyes filled.
“That’s why I called you.”
“You told me he had died in an accident.”
“I didn’t know then.”
“When did you find this?”
“A week later.”
“Why didn’t you bring it to me?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Because Ethan told me not to trust you.”
“I never saw any of this.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because if you knew, you wouldn’t be standing there looking like that.”
Cade sat heavily.
Their father, Malcolm Mercer, had built Mercer Development into a Chicago empire before his death eleven years earlier.
Cade inherited it.
He spent a decade legitimizing everything he thought had been questionable.
He never imagined murder lived underneath.
“Who else knows?”
Serena looked toward her daughters.
“Someone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Three months after Ethan died, somebody broke into our apartment.”
“What did they take?”
“Nothing.”
“Then?”
“They searched.”
“For this?”
“I think so.”
“Why weren’t the girls hurt?”
“They weren’t home.”
Cade’s jaw tightened.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You had already made your choice.”
“What choice?”
“You chose Dad.”
That wound was older than Ethan.
Cade stood.
“When you left home, you told everyone Dad stole Mom’s inheritance.”
“He did.”
“I didn’t believe you.”
“I know.”
“I thought you wanted money.”
“I know.”
“I was wrong.”
Serena looked at him.
“You were.”
No comfort.
No easy forgiveness.
Good.
Then Julian Knox entered.
“Cade.”
His security chief looked tense.
“What?”
“Someone tried entering the hospital records system last night.”
Serena stiffened.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Unknown.”
Cade looked at the painting.
The girls had carried it in public.
News cameras existed everywhere downtown.
Maybe someone had seen.
“Move Serena and the girls.”
“To where?” Julian asked.
“My house.”
Serena immediately said, “No.”
“Not optional.”
“Try again.”
Cade turned.
“Someone may be searching for these documents.”
“And hiding in your mansion is safe?”
“Safer than your apartment.”
“I’m not living under your rules again.”
“These aren’t rules.”
“They sound like them.”
Cade stopped.
This was his instinct.
Control.
Money.
Security.
Decisions.
All the things his father taught him.
He tried again.
“Will you let me help?”
Serena studied him.
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Temporarily.”
The girls were thrilled.
Cade’s house had a movie room.
Mara asked whether famous people lived there.
“No.”
“Then why so big?”
Cade had no answer.
That evening, Lena wandered into the library.
Cade found her standing before a wall of family photographs.
She pointed toward an old picture.
“That’s Mom.”
“Yes.”
“And you.”
“Yes.”
“You looked happy.”
Cade stared at the image.
They had been children.
Before money became morality.
Before their father turned loyalty into obedience.
“We were.”
“Why did you stop talking?”
“Because I was stupid.”
Lena considered.
“Mom says grown-ups say complicated things when they mean stupid.”
“She’s correct.”
Lena looked at him.
“Are you really dangerous?”
Cade frowned.
“Who told you that?”
“Kids at school know your name.”
“What do they say?”
“That you own people.”
His stomach tightened.
“No.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“You scare people.”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the child.
“Because I spent years thinking fear kept people from hurting my family.”
“Did it work?”
Cade glanced toward Serena.
“No.”
Lena nodded as though she expected that.
Then the security alarm sounded.
Julian’s voice came over the intercom.
“Cade. Stay inside.”
“Why?”
“Vehicle breached the east gate.”
Cade moved.
Serena appeared in the hallway.
“What happened?”
“Take the girls upstairs.”
Lena grabbed Mara.
Seconds later, two security men rushed through the foyer.
A black SUV had crashed through the outer gate.
Its driver was dead.
Shot.
No identification.
Inside the vehicle, police found photographs.
Serena’s apartment.
The hospital.
Cade’s house.
Lena walking to school.
Mara at a playground.
And one photograph of the painting.
Across the back, someone had written:
THE MERCER FAMILY SHOULD HAVE BURNED THIS TWENTY YEARS AGO.
But another photo frightened Cade more.
It showed Serena standing beside Ethan.
Taken one week before his death.
Behind them stood a man.
Cade knew him.
His father’s former attorney.
Richard Vale.
A man who had attended Malcolm Mercer’s funeral and told Cade:
“Your father left you a clean company.”
Richard had apparently lied.
And according to Julian, he had died six years earlier.
Cade stared at the photograph.
May you like
Then muttered:
“Apparently everyone in this family has trouble staying dead.”
