Chapter 9 - The Brother Who Came to the Funeral
Nathan Mercer had attended Claire’s funeral.
He stood beside Ethan through the service.
He helped choose the flowers.
He carried Claire’s framed photograph into the church.
When Ethan could not sleep afterward, Nathan stayed on his couch for nearly a month.
Then, gradually, they drifted apart.
Nathan moved west.
Started businesses.
Failed at some.
Succeeded at others.
He still sent Lily birthday gifts.
He still called Ethan every Christmas.
And he had never once mentioned knowing Arthur Vale.
Ethan called him.
No signal.
Voss connected through an encrypted satellite unit.
Nathan answered on the fourth ring.
“Ethan?”
“Where are you?”
“Denver. Why?”
“Do you know Arthur Vale?”
Silence.
One second.
Two.
Too long.
“Who?”
Ethan closed his eyes.
There it was.
Not proof.
But a lie.
“You heard me.”
“I don’t know what this is about.”
“I’m looking at a photograph of you standing beside him.”
Nathan exhaled.
“That was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Ethan—”
“How long?”
“Before Claire died.”
Eleanor looked at Ethan.
Voss began recording.
Nathan explained that he had briefly consulted for Vale Recovery Group.
Identity verification.
Database architecture.
Nothing important.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
“Claire hired Arthur to investigate me.”
Silence again.
“Nathan?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Did you know Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“Did you help build it?”
“No.”
“Did you use my identity?”
“What?”
“Answer.”
“No.”
Ethan wanted to believe him.
That frightened him.
Love was not evidence.
Neither was suspicion.
“What happened to Claire?”
Nathan’s breathing changed.
“She died.”
“No.”
Another silence.
Then:
“What do you mean, no?”
Ethan watched Voss.
Voss nodded slightly.
Nathan truly sounded surprised.
Either that or he was excellent.
“Claire is alive.”
The line went dead.
Voss immediately began tracing.
Nathan’s phone disconnected from the network.
Ethan stared at the satellite unit.
“That’s guilt.”
“Maybe,” Voss said.
“Maybe?”
“Or fear.”
Ethan hated him for being right.
They searched Arthur Vale’s files for Nathan.
Nothing under Mercer.
Then Eleanor remembered her father’s filing habit.
He often used project names.
One folder:
JANUS.
Inside were two photographs of Ethan.
One taken at twenty-six.
One digitally altered.
Same face.
Different name.
ELIAS MERCER.
Ethan stared.
“I don’t have a middle name.”
“Elias isn’t a middle name,” Voss said.
“It’s another identity.”
Bank accounts.
Employment records.
Security clearances.
All connected to Ethan’s biometric data.
Someone had created an administrative twin.
Janus.
The Roman god with two faces.
Nathan’s technical notes appeared throughout the file.
Ethan felt sick.
“He built it.”
Voss kept reading.
“Maybe.”
At the back was a handwritten memo from Arthur Vale.
N.M. discovered unauthorized expansion of JANUS. Demands termination. Threatened disclosure.
Ethan stopped.
Nathan had not necessarily created the fraud.
He might have discovered it.
Again, the evidence turned.
Eleanor found another page.
Payment authorization.
Large amount.
Recipient:
N. MERCER.
Ethan’s hope collapsed again.
Then Voss turned the page.
Payment description:
WHISTLEBLOWER SETTLEMENT / CONFIDENTIALITY.
Nathan had taken money to remain silent.
Not mastermind.
Not innocent.
Something painfully between.
A crash echoed from upstairs.
They ran.
In Eleanor’s bedroom, the hidden phone compartment was open.
The missing secure phone sat neatly on the bed.
Beside it lay a handwritten note.
Ethan picked it up.
NATHAN IS NOT THE ONE YOU SHOULD FEAR.
May you like
Below it:
ASK HIM WHY CLAIRE HAD TO DIE TWICE.
