Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Was BuriedDaniel wanted to take Evelyn home immediately.
She refused.
“The mansion isn’t safe.”
“It is my house.”
“That doesn’t mean you control everyone inside it.”
The words landed harder than Daniel expected.
Maya stood near the window, watching the road.
Daniel looked at the cottage again.
A single electric heater.
Two blankets.
A chipped kettle.
A cupboard containing canned soup.
No telephone.
No television.
No medication bottles.
Nothing belonging to a woman who had once controlled one of America’s largest privately influenced industrial fortunes.
“Who pays for this place?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Who brings you medicine?”
“A man comes every Thursday.”
“Name?”
“He never gave me one.”
“What does he look like?”
“Tall. Gray coat. Scar on his hand.”
Daniel remembered a man employed by Mercer corporate security.
Peter Voss.
Graham’s former military security chief.
Daniel said nothing yet.
He turned to Maya.
“How did you get involved?”
Maya hugged her arms.
“I came this way one evening because my bus had broken down.”
Daniel frowned.
“You live twenty miles in the other direction.”
“My sister lives near Mill Creek.”
It sounded plausible.
Maya continued.
“I heard someone calling from inside. Mrs. Mercer had fallen trying to reach the water pitcher.”
Evelyn looked embarrassed.
“I was fine.”
“You couldn’t stand.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Maya said, “I helped her back into the chair. Then I brought food the next day.”
“Why leftover bread?”
“At first I brought groceries.”
“And?”
“Someone removed them.”
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
She nodded.
“The Thursday man said too much food would spoil.”
Maya’s expression hardened.
“So I started hiding things in my uniform and bringing only enough for one night.”
“Why bread?”
“Because nobody counted bread at the mansion.”
Daniel thought of the dinners he had hosted.
Truffle risotto.
Prime beef.
Crystal glasses filled with hundred-dollar wine.
While his mother ate scraps.
His stomach turned.
“I want a doctor here tonight.”
Evelyn stiffened.
“No Mercer doctors.”
“An independent physician.”
“No records.”
Daniel understood.
If someone had successfully convinced the world Evelyn Mercer was dead, the appearance of a medical record could expose her before he knew who was involved.
“All right.”
He called Sarah Klein.
Sarah had been his personal attorney since he became CEO.
Not Mercer Industries’ attorney.
His.
When she answered, Daniel spoke quietly.
“I need you to find a geriatric physician willing to make a private house call.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
“Is someone hurt?”
“Sarah, I need you to do exactly what I say and tell no one.”
A pause.
“Not even Graham?”
“Especially not Graham.”
Another pause.
“Where are you?”
Daniel looked at his mother.
“I’ll send the address.”
He ended the call.
Evelyn studied him.
“You trust her?”
“Yes.”
“I trusted people too.”
Daniel pulled a wooden chair closer.
“Then help me understand.”
Evelyn stared at the floor.
“Eighteen months ago, Graham told me you wanted me to stay at Laurel Crest for rehabilitation.”
Daniel recognized the name.
A private medical facility outside Boston.
“You had pneumonia.”
“I had pneumonia for nine days.”
“You were there six weeks.”
“No.”
Daniel’s heartbeat changed.
“What?”
“I was at Laurel Crest for twelve days. Then they moved me.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. They kept the curtains closed.”
Daniel remembered those weeks.
He had been negotiating Mercer Industries’ acquisition of a logistics company in Singapore.
Every day he called Laurel Crest.
Every day a nurse told him Evelyn was sleeping, undergoing therapy, or too exhausted to speak.
Then came the call.
Graham’s voice.
Daniel, she’s gone.
Sudden cardiac arrest.
Complications.
The cremation had happened quickly because Evelyn had supposedly signed an advance directive.
Daniel had hated that.
But Graham had shown him the document.
His mother’s signature.
Daniel covered his mouth.
“You were alive the entire time.”
Evelyn nodded.
“They told me you didn’t want to speak with me.”
“I called every day.”
“They gave me letters.”
“What letters?”
She rose slowly.
Maya helped her cross to a wooden cabinet.
From beneath folded towels, Evelyn removed a bundle tied with string.
Daniel knew the handwriting instantly.
His own.
He opened the first letter.
Mom,
I need space. You have interfered with my life long enough. Please stop asking the staff to contact me.
Daniel stared at it.
“I never wrote this.”
“There were sixteen.”
He opened another.
I have decided it is better for everyone if you remain away from the house permanently.
His signature appeared below.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
Digital.
Copied.
Daniel’s hands shook.
“They manufactured these.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“And they showed me legal papers.”
“What papers?”
“You transferring my care to Graham.”
“I never did.”
“I know that now.”
Daniel looked up.
“Now?”
Evelyn’s eyes moved toward Maya.
“She kept bringing me bread even after I told her you were cruel.”
Maya lowered her gaze.
“One night,” Evelyn continued, “she told me something.”
Daniel looked at Maya.
“What?”
Maya hesitated.
“I told her that every morning you walk past her portrait in the east hallway and straighten it if the housekeepers touch it.”
Daniel said nothing.
Maya continued.
“I told her you still keep her place set during Christmas dinner.”
Evelyn began crying quietly.
“That didn’t sound like a son who wanted his mother erased.”
Daniel looked away.
For eighteen months he had eaten Christmas dinner beside an empty chair.
Outside, tires approached.
Daniel moved toward the window.
A dark SUV stopped near the cottage.
Sarah stepped out with an older female physician.
Daniel exhaled.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message.
From Graham.
Dinner tomorrow?
Need to discuss the board vote.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
And Daniel—
I heard you left the house rather suddenly tonight.
Daniel slowly looked toward Maya.
Only a few people knew he had left.
Somebody inside his mansion was reporting his movements.
He typed back.
Just needed air.
Graham responded almost instantly.
May you like
Good.
For a moment I was worried you’d gone looking for ghosts.
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