Chapter 21 - Mercer’s Deal
The territorial prosecutor refused to let Mercer dictate terms.
But he agreed to hear him.
Jacob and Eli were not allowed inside the formal negotiation.
They waited in a Tucson courthouse corridor with Tomas and Martha.
Silas had already been transferred to county custody.
Boone awaited his own hearing.
For once, Jacob had no weapon at his hip.
Courthouse rules.
He felt strangely lighter.
After two hours, prosecutor Henry Cole emerged.
He looked at Jacob.
“Mr. Mercer wants to make a statement in your presence.”
“Why?”
“He says you can verify part of it.”
Eli stood.
“I’m coming.”
Cole hesitated.
Jacob looked at Eli.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
The prosecutor allowed it.
Mercer sat across a long table.
His injured shoulder remained stiff.
He looked less polished than before.
Still dangerous.
But human now.
He placed a sealed affidavit on the table.
“I paid Matthew Rusk five hundred dollars.”
Eli’s jaw tightened.
“To cut Mom’s axle deeper.”
“Yes.”
The direct admission felt almost anticlimactic after months of lies.
Jacob asked:
“Why?”
“To stop her reaching Tucson.”
“Silas already ordered the wagon disabled.”
“I could not trust a delay.”
“So you increased the damage.”
“Yes.”
“Did you intend her death?”
Mercer paused.
Cole watched carefully.
“I knew serious injury was possible.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Mercer looked at Eli.
“No.”
Eli’s eyes filled with anger.
Jacob believed Mercer might even be telling the truth.
That did not make it less criminal.
“You killed her anyway,” Eli said.
Mercer lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
No lawyer’s language.
Just yes.
Eli took a breath.
“Who else?”
Mercer looked toward Jacob.
“Clara changed her route that afternoon.”
Jacob frowned.
“She took the south road.”
“Originally she planned the north road.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
“Why?”
“I was still pretending to represent her.”
Jacob’s stomach turned.
Mercer continued.
“After our meeting, someone convinced her the south road was safer.”
“Who?”
“Daniel’s sister.”
Jacob blinked.
Daniel had no living sister.
“Daniel was an only child.”
Mercer nodded.
“Exactly.”
Silence.
“A woman approached Clara claiming to be Daniel’s half-sister.”
“Name?”
“Rebecca Hayes.”
Jacob almost laughed.
“There’s no Rebecca Hayes.”
“I know now.”
“Who was she?”
Mercer looked toward the prosecutor.
“Western Meridian investigator.”
Jacob’s anger sharpened.
“Company was involved before Clara died.”
“Yes.”
“Your own company statement says negotiations began later.”
“They lied.”
“Name.”
“Lydia Shaw.”
A professional investigator employed by Western Meridian’s predecessor firm.
She had been surveying mineral access under assumed identities.
She learned Clara planned to carry the compact evidence north.
She posed as a relative and told Clara armed men were waiting on that road.
Clara changed south.
Toward the wagon failure.
Eli whispered:
“So they steered her.”
“Yes.”
“Did Lydia know about the axle?”
Mercer hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Then she helped kill Mom.”
“She knew risk.”
Cole wrote notes.
Jacob asked:
“Why are you giving her up?”
Mercer laughed bitterly.
“Because Western Meridian gave me up first.”
Not redemption.
Self-preservation.
At least it was honest.
“Where is Lydia now?”
“Denver.”
Cole nodded.
Federal authorities could reach her.
Then Mercer looked at Jacob.
“There’s another thing.”
“What?”
“Clara met Lydia once before.”
“When?”
“The week Daniel died.”
Eli’s face changed.
“Why?”
“Lydia was already investigating the spring.”
“So Western Meridian’s predecessor knew about the mineral vein five years ago.”
“Yes.”
Jacob understood the long game.
Daniel sought a buyer.
Mercer connected him to industry contacts.
Lydia investigated.
Daniel became a liability.
Mercer manipulated.
Clara uncovered it.
The project resurfaced years later under Western Meridian.
Not random accidents.
A financial scheme evolving over time.
“What did Lydia do the night Daniel died?”
Mercer said:
“She met him.”
Eli stared.
“When?”
“Around five.”
Doctor Hensley estimated the fatal dose was administered between six and seven.
“Did she poison him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“You admitted buying the laudanum.”
“For Daniel.”
“Why?”
“He asked.”
Jacob frowned.
“Daniel asked you to buy it?”
“Yes.”
Silas had collected it.
Mercer returned it.
Then Daniel used some himself.
Maybe.
The timeline remained messy.
Mercer continued.
“Lydia claimed Daniel offered her documents in exchange for paying his debt.”
“Did she pay?”
“Part.”
“How much?”
“Three thousand.”
“Then he blackmailed Silas for five.”
“Yes.”
Daniel was playing everyone.
Eli looked sick.
Jacob said:
“That doesn’t mean he deserved to die.”
Mercer nodded.
“No.”
Cole asked:
“What proof exists of Lydia’s meeting?”
Mercer produced a hotel register copy.
Alias Rebecca Hayes.
Handwriting matched Lydia’s employment records, according to him.
Not enough alone.
But lead.
Then Mercer gave them something more important.
A letter Clara had sent him the day before her death.
He had kept it as leverage.
Clara wrote:
I know Lydia Shaw is not Daniel’s sister. I know the mining syndicate has been watching the spring since Daniel’s death. I am going to Tucson with the compact and Hensley’s report.
She knew.
She was not tricked into the south road blindly.
Then:
Tell Lydia the south road changes nothing. I made copies.
Mercer had never found those copies.
Jacob smiled faintly.
Clara had built redundancy before any of them understood the word.
Cole looked at Mercer.
“Why keep this?”
“Insurance.”
“Against Lydia?”
“Against everyone.”
Tomas finally spoke.
“That is why none of you trusted each other.”
Mercer looked at him.
Tomas continued.
“You built agreements around leverage instead of trust. Every man kept evidence because betrayal was expected.”
Mercer gave a small shrug.
“It kept me alive.”
Eli looked at him.
“For a while.”
Mercer’s expression changed.
The boy’s words landed.
By evening, Lydia Shaw’s arrest warrant had been requested.
Western Meridian’s board came under federal scrutiny for conspiracy and fraudulent land applications.
Mercer agreed to plead guilty to fraud, obstruction and reckless acts contributing to Clara’s death, with any murder-related charges left to prosecutors depending on new evidence.
Not perfect justice.
Real justice rarely was.
Outside the courthouse, Eli asked Jacob:
“Do you think Mercer meant to kill Mom?”
Jacob considered.
“I think he cared more about stopping her than whether she survived.”
“Is that different?”
“Legally, maybe.”
“And to me?”
Jacob looked at him.
“You decide.”
Eli nodded.
Then Tomas joined them holding a telegram.
Lydia Shaw had not waited to be arrested.
She had boarded an eastbound train that morning.
Federal agents were pursuing.
But before leaving Denver, she mailed one package.
To Eli Hayes.
It was already waiting at the Red Creek post office.
And inside, according to the postal clerk’s telegram—
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