Chapter 10 - The Dead Man’s Story
Garrison moved in front of me.
Martin lowered the gun slightly.
“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have heard me.”
“That’s comforting,” Garrison said.
“Put it down.”
Martin looked at the metal case.
“You found Sarah’s archive.”
“You knew it was here?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because Charles would have killed me.”
“Charles has been dead four years.”
Martin laughed softly.
“Charles was never the person I feared most.”
Eleanor.
I knew before he said it.
Garrison did too.
“Put the gun down.”
Martin finally placed it on the floor.
Then he raised both hands.
“I didn’t kill Sarah.”
Garrison’s face tightened.
“You helped destroy evidence.”
“Yes.”
“You disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“You let me bury my daughter believing I would never know the truth.”
Martin’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Garrison stepped toward him.
I grabbed his arm.
He stopped.
Barely.
“Talk,” I said.
Martin sat on an old chair.
His story came out slowly.
Charles Mercer had built a network using Bellweather to manipulate medical information connected to executive families.
Sometimes it involved hiding infertility.
Sometimes paternity.
Sometimes pregnancy.
The purpose was almost always financial.
Trusts.
Divorces.
Inheritance.
Insurance.
Eleanor handled the families.
Charles handled the company.
Martin altered records.
Dr. Voss signed treatments.
“And Julian?” I asked.
Martin looked at me.
“Julian resisted at first.”
I almost laughed.
“Not enough.”
“No.”
“What changed?”
“His father threatened to cut him out.”
“So he sacrificed me.”
Martin looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Did Julian ever order medication changes?”
“No.”
I blinked.
“Never?”
“He knew they were happening. He helped hide the male fertility report. He destroyed files. But the treatment orders came from Eleanor through Voss.”
That did not absolve Julian.
But truth mattered.
Even ugly truth.
“Why did Eleanor care so much?”
“The Mercer trust.”
“We know.”
“No.”
Martin shook his head.
“You know part of it.”
He looked toward the documents.
“Charles and Eleanor had been siphoning money from Mercer Holdings for years.”
Garrison narrowed his eyes.
“How much?”
“More than sixty million.”
My stomach dropped.
“If Julian had a biological child, the trust triggered an independent audit before transferring voting shares.”
I understood.
“A child would expose the theft.”
“Yes.”
“So they had to prevent Julian from having one.”
“Until they moved the money.”
“But Julian is nearly infertile.”
“They didn’t know that initially.”
“So once they found out…”
“They realized the infertility helped.”
My hands curled.
“They blamed me.”
“Yes.”
“And Julian let them.”
“Yes.”
“What about Chloe?”
Martin shook his head.
“That happened after my time.”
“Then why was her donor switched?”
“I don’t know.”
Garrison leaned forward.
“What happened to Sarah?”
Martin looked toward the broken window.
“Sarah copied records. Charles discovered it. He confronted her at Bellweather.”
“We have video.”
“Then you know Julian was there.”
“Yes.”
“After Sarah left, Eleanor arrived.”
Garrison went still.
“She followed Sarah?”
“Charles did.”
“And Eleanor?”
“Not immediately.”
Martin swallowed.
“Sarah called me from the ranger station. She said she had hidden copies. She was going to the state police.”
My heart pounded.
“What happened?”
“Charles found her on Old Quarry Road.”
Garrison’s hands clenched.
“He ran her off the road?”
Martin nodded.
“Did she die on impact?”
“No.”
The word destroyed the room.
Garrison stopped breathing.
“What?”
Martin’s eyes filled with tears.
“She survived the crash.”
Garrison stumbled backward.
“No.”
“Charles called Eleanor.”
“No.”
“She arrived.”
“What did they do?”
Martin looked sick.
“They didn’t call an ambulance.”
Garrison grabbed him.
“What did they do?”
“I wasn’t there!”
“Then how do you know?”
“Charles told me!”
Garrison shoved him back.
Martin shouted, “She was alive when they left her!”
Silence.
Garrison turned away.
I could see him shaking.
Sarah had been alive.
Help might have saved her.
Instead, the people trying to protect money had left her to die.
Martin continued quietly.
“Charles made me destroy the clinic files. Eleanor told me if I spoke, my daughter would disappear next.”
“So you ran.”
“Yes.”
“Why return now?”
“Because Julian contacted me.”
I stared.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Before he left me?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“He said Eleanor was doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Manipulating fertility records.”
“Chloe.”
Martin nodded.
“Julian wanted proof.”
My mind reeled.
“He was investigating his mother?”
“I think he wanted leverage.”
Of course.
Not justice.
Leverage.
“Where is Julian?”
“I don’t know.”
“He sent me here.”
Martin looked surprised.
“No.”
“He emailed me.”
“Julian couldn’t have.”
“Why?”
Martin stared at us.
“Because Julian is with me.”
The room froze.
“What?”
“He came to me three days ago.”
“Where is he?”
“I moved him.”
“Why?”
“Someone tried to kill him.”
My heart slammed.
“Who?”
Martin looked toward the road.
Before he could answer, a gunshot shattered the window.
Glass exploded.
Garrison dragged me to the floor.
Another shot hit the wall.
Martin crawled toward his gun.
Outside, an engine roared.
Then disappeared.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Garrison called police.
Martin stared at the bullet hole.
“She knows.”
“Eleanor?” I whispered.
He nodded.
“She knows I came back.”
Then he looked at me.
“And if she knows you found Sarah’s files, she won’t stop with Julian.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
Garrison’s farmhouse.
Taken minutes earlier.
Beneath it:
May you like
COME HOME, EMMA.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT YOUR HUSBAND.
