Inside were dozens of files.
Some dated back almost twenty years.
Others had been created shortly before Arthur’s death.
Claire selected one.
OCTOBER 19, 2008 — STUDY — COMPLETE
The screen went black.
Then the study appeared.
Arthur Mercer stood beside his desk.
Orson faced him.
Vesta stood near the door.
I recognized the scene immediately.
Arthur’s voice filled the room.
“You used my properties to secure those loans.”
Orson crossed his arms.
“You don’t understand the arrangements.”
“I understand fraud when I see it.”
Hayes leaned forward.
I watched his hands tighten.
The argument continued.
Arthur accused Orson of using company assets without proper authorization.
Orson denied wrongdoing.
Vesta tried to calm them.
Then Arthur mentioned Daniel Rourke.
“You told me he fell.”
Vesta lowered her eyes.
Arthur pointed toward the telephone.
“I’m calling the police.”
And then the fourth person entered.
Claire paused the recording.
Hayes stared at the screen.
The figure stood partially in shadow.
A man.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Wearing a dark suit.
His face was turned away from the camera.
Hayes frowned.
“Who is that?”
Claire looked at him.
“Keep watching.”
She pressed play.
The man stepped farther into the room.
Arthur looked at him.
“What are you doing here?”
The man didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said, “You asked me to come.”
Hayes stiffened.
“I know that voice.”
Claire said nothing.
The man moved closer to the desk.
His face became visible.
Hayes stood so suddenly that his chair scraped against the floor.
“No.”
I stared at the screen.
The man looked to be in his forties.
Dark hair.
Sharp features.
A familiar Mercer jawline.
Hayes whispered, “Uncle Graham?”
Claire nodded.
“Graham Mercer.”
Orson’s younger brother.
A man Hayes had told me died in a boating accident nearly fifteen years earlier.
I looked at my husband.
His face had gone white.
“He’s dead,” Hayes whispered.
Claire watched him.
“That’s what your family told you.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Hayes shook his head.
“No. There was a funeral.”
“I know.”
“I was there.”
Claire’s expression softened.
“Hayes, I believe you.”
He stared at the screen.
“But the man in this recording is Graham Mercer.”
Hayes slowly sat down.
His hands were shaking.
I reached for him.
He took my hand without looking away from the laptop.
On the screen, Graham stood beside Arthur’s desk.
Arthur looked furious.
“You were supposed to bring me the original records.”
Graham placed a folder on the table.
“I did.”
Orson moved toward him.
“Give me that.”
Graham pulled the folder away.
“No.”
Arthur opened it.
He read the first page.
Then the second.
His expression changed.
“What is this?”
Graham swallowed.
“Proof.”
Arthur looked up.
“Of what?”
Graham stared at Orson.
“That the loans were never meant to fund the company.”
The room fell silent.
Then Graham said something that made Hayes stop breathing.
“They were meant to buy your silence.”
Claire paused the video.
Hayes stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
She looked at him.
“We’re still working through the records.”
He turned toward her.
“You know more than you’re telling me.”
“I know what the documents show. I don’t know every motive.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Then tell me what you know.”
Claire opened the second drive.
A spreadsheet appeared.
Hundreds of transactions.
Dates.
Amounts.
Account numbers.
Company names.
Some I recognized from Evelyn’s investigation.
Briarstone Advisory.
Westbridge Commercial Services.
Halden Equipment Leasing.
Others were unfamiliar.
Claire pointed toward a column.
“These payments began after Daniel was injured.”
I leaned forward.
The first transaction was dated three weeks after the incident.
$275,000 — BRIASTONE ADVISORY
Another followed.
Then another.
Hayes frowned.
“Why would a consulting company receive money after a groundskeeper was injured?”
Claire clicked another tab.
“Because Briarstone wasn’t functioning only as a consulting company.”
She opened a corporate ownership record.
The beneficial ownership was obscured through several entities.
But one name appeared repeatedly in older filings.
GRAHAM MERCER.
Hayes stared.
“My uncle?”
Claire nodded.
“He controlled part of the company.”
“Then why was my father paying him?”
“That’s what Arthur was trying to find out.”
She opened another file.
A scanned letter.
It was addressed to Arthur Mercer.
The date was six weeks before his death.
Claire read aloud.
“‘I have reviewed the supporting documents and can no longer certify that the transfers were authorized for legitimate business purposes.'”
Hayes leaned closer.
“Who wrote that?”
Claire pointed toward the signature.
MARGARET ELLIS — CONTROLLER
I felt a chill.
Another person.
Another name from the past.
Claire continued.
“Margaret Ellis worked for Mercer Holdings for twenty-three years.”
“What happened to her?” Hayes asked.
“She resigned shortly after Arthur died.”
“Where is she now?”
Claire hesitated.
“We haven’t located her.”
Hayes looked toward me.
I could see the same realization forming in his eyes.
