Chapter 6 - Eleanor
Eleanor Mercer arrived wearing pearls.
At sixty-seven, she still had the ability to make a room feel like a board meeting.
Grant placed the security record in front of her.
“You entered my house after Caroline died.”
“Yes.”
No denial.
“Why?”
“To find what she had hidden.”
Grant stared.
“You knew about Nathan.”
Eleanor's face changed.
“Of course.”
“He's alive.”
“I know.”
“You told me he died.”
“I know.”
Grant stood.
Nathan remained seated across the room.
Eleanor could barely look at him.
Then Nathan said:
“Hello, Mother.”
Eleanor began crying.
Grant had seen her cry twice in his life.
Both at funerals.
Nathan did not move toward her.
Good.
She was not entitled to comfort.
Eleanor explained.
After Nathan's birth, she developed severe postpartum depression.
Nathan also required surgeries.
Charles controlled everything.
Doctors.
Money.
Decisions.
He convinced Eleanor temporary placement was safest.
Then months became years.
By the time Eleanor wanted Nathan back, Rebecca had become his mother in every practical sense.
Charles argued removing him would cause more harm.
Maybe he was right about that.
Then he made the unforgivable decision:
He told Grant the baby died.
Eleanor allowed it.
“Why?”
“Shame.”
Simple.
Ugly.
Believable.
Then Grant asked about the money.
Eleanor knew Nathan's trust existed.
She believed it remained intact.
Only after Caroline began investigating did she learn it had been absorbed.
She entered Grant's house looking for Caroline's evidence because she feared Nathan would sue the family.
“So you were protecting money?”
“I was protecting you.”
Grant almost laughed.
Nathan did.
Eleanor flinched.
Grant said:
“Stop calling it protection.”
Silence.
Then Eleanor admitted she found the vase.
But did not find the memory card.
She opened the base incorrectly.
Caroline had hidden it inside a second ceramic layer.
Eleanor left.
The card remained until the vase shattered.
Then who had tampered with the security camera?
Because investigators discovered something else.
The camera had stopped recording for exactly nine minutes during Eleanor's visit.
Someone remotely disabled it.
Administrator account:
Grant Mercer.
Grant stared.
“I didn't do that.”
The login originated from Mercer Financial headquarters.
His office.
He had been in Chicago that day.
Who had access?
His executive assistant.
David Cross.
Grant looked toward Vivienne.
Cross.
“Your brother?”
Vivienne shook her head.
“Ex-husband.”
Grant froze.
Vivienne had told him she had never been married.
David Cross had worked beside Grant for five years.
And Grant had unknowingly become engaged to David's former wife.
Coincidence?
May you like
Vivienne looked away.
No.
