Chapter 7
For the first time that night, Evan looked trapped.
Not accused.
Not offended.
Trapped.
Ryan had known him long enough to recognize the difference.
Detective Ortiz left the photograph of the blue ledger on the desk between them.
“You told me you had never seen this notebook,” she said.
Evan looked at the image as if he might somehow change what it showed.
“I should have explained.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“That sentence is getting crowded tonight.”
Evan ignored him.
“Grant asked me to help find old board records last week. He said Thomas had kept hard copies of vendor agreements somewhere in the house.”
Grant stared at him.
“I never asked you to search Thomas’s belongings.”
“You said the documents were probably in storage.”
“I said old contracts existed. That is not permission to go through a dead man’s private boxes.”
Evan turned to Ortiz.
“I found the ledger. I opened it. I saw my initials.”
“And took pictures,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was shocked.”
“Why delete them?”
“Because they looked terrible.”
Ryan stepped closer.
“They looked terrible because Dad thought you were stealing from him.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then why tear out the page?”
“I didn’t.”
“The page is present in your photo and missing now.”
“That doesn’t mean I took it.”
Ryan stared at him.
“Do you hear yourself?”
Evan’s composure broke.
“Yes, Ryan, I hear myself. I hear every ugly fact lining up around me, and I don’t know who put half of them there.”
“Maybe nobody did.”
“You think I killed your father?”
Ryan could not answer.
Two hours earlier, the question would have been impossible.
Now it was merely unbearable.
Detective Ortiz stepped in.
“Mr. Cole, you are not under arrest at this moment, but you are not to leave the property without notifying us. We are seeking warrants for your room, vehicle, and additional account records.”
Evan looked at Ryan.
“You know me.”
Ryan’s chest tightened.
“I thought I did.”
The words landed harder than shouting.
Evan looked away.
A knock came from the hall.
An officer entered and handed Ortiz a note.
The detective read it, then looked toward Elaine.
“Mrs. Reed, I need to speak with you again.”
Elaine lifted her chin. “About what?”
“Megan Shaw’s medical exam.”
Abigail turned toward her mother.
Ortiz continued. “The injury on the side of her head is consistent with striking a fixed object, not being hit by one. She also has bruising around one wrist.”
Elaine said nothing.
“Megan remembers more now.”
Abigail’s face changed.
“Mom?”
Elaine closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the fight had gone out of her.
“I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”
The room froze.
Grant whispered, “Elaine.”
She ignored him.
Detective Ortiz’s voice remained calm.
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
Elaine sat down.
“I saw Megan coming out of Grant’s room.”
“What time?”
“A little after four.”
“That contradicts what you told us earlier.”
“I know.”
“You said you were alone in your room.”
“I lied.”
Abigail looked sick.
Elaine stared at the floor.
“I thought she had found the loan papers. Grant kept copies. I thought she had seen messages between us.”
“So you followed her?” Ortiz asked.
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I confronted her in the third-floor hallway.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked what she had taken.”
“Megan says she tried to walk away.”
“She did.”
“And you grabbed her wrist.”
Elaine nodded.
“She pulled away. Her heel caught on the carpet. She fell into the linen-room doorframe.”
Abigail covered her mouth.
Elaine’s voice began to shake.
“She was dazed. I panicked.”
“So you put her in the closet.”
“I helped her inside because I thought she needed to sit down.”
“And locked the door.”
Elaine began crying.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the ceremony was minutes away, and I thought if she came downstairs telling everyone she had found me sneaking into Grant’s room, the wedding would explode.”
Abigail stared at her mother.
“So you locked an injured woman in a closet to save my wedding.”
Elaine looked up.
“I was going to let her out after the ceremony.”
“You could have killed her.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Abigail stood.
“All day you kept saying you were protecting me. From embarrassment. From money problems. From gossip. You nearly let Megan lie unconscious in a closet because you couldn’t stand the idea of people discovering you had a boyfriend.”
“It was more than that.”
“It always is with you.”
Abigail walked out.
Elaine started to follow.
Ortiz stopped her.
“You’re staying with me.”
Ryan went after Abigail.
He found her in the glass conservatory behind the ballroom, standing among white orchids and dark windows streaked by rain.
She had both arms wrapped around herself.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She laughed softly.
“For which part?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“That makes two of us.”
Ryan stood beside her.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Abigail said, “There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Ryan closed his eyes.
“Of course there is.”
“I know.”
He looked at her.
“At this point, just say it.”
She swallowed.
“Evan came to see me in June.”
Ryan’s exhaustion vanished.
“Why?”
“He asked me to postpone the wedding.”
“What?”
“He said your marriage would trigger changes at Mercer Holdings before you were ready.”
Ryan stared at her.
“He knew about the trust clause.”
“Yes.”
“Everybody knew.”
“He seemed afraid of it.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Abigail thought for a moment.
“He said, ‘Once Ryan takes control, people are going to start digging through things they don’t understand.’”
Ryan’s pulse quickened.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought he was talking about Grant.”
“Why?”
“He said there were financial problems. He said Grant had kept you insulated from them and that the board was going to turn on you if you took control too soon.”
Ryan clenched his jaw.
“And you believed him?”
“I believed he was your best friend.”
That hurt because Ryan had believed exactly the same thing.
Abigail continued.
“I told him I wasn’t postponing anything. Then he asked whether I understood what would happen if you became controlling shareholder.”
“What did you say?”
“That I didn’t care about your company.”
“And then?”
She hesitated.
“He said something strange.”
Ryan waited.
“He said, ‘You will when it destroys him.’”
Ryan looked back toward the ballroom.
Evan was still inside somewhere, surrounded by officers and old secrets.
Abigail touched Ryan’s arm.
“There’s more.”
He almost smiled from exhaustion.
“Why would there not be?”
“He tried to kiss me.”
Ryan stared at her.
Abigail looked ashamed even though she had done nothing wrong.
“I pushed him away.”
“When?”
“Same day.”
“What did he say?”
“That he was sorry. That he was stressed. That it would never happen again.”
Ryan looked toward the dark windows.
He wanted to break something.
Instead he asked, “Did it?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“My mother.”
Ryan turned back.
“Elaine knew?”
“She told me not to tell you before the wedding. She said you and Evan were like brothers and I would destroy a lifelong friendship over one stupid mistake.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“Your mother has excellent instincts about what destroys things.”
Abigail almost smiled.
Then her face became serious.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
She flinched.
Ryan softened.
“But I understand why you didn’t.”
He reached for her hand.
This time she let him take it.
An officer appeared at the conservatory door.
“Mr. Mercer? Detective Ortiz needs you.”
They returned to the study.
Elaine was gone, escorted elsewhere for formal questioning. Grant and his attorney remained. Evan stood near the window.
Ortiz held another document.
“We received preliminary results from the search of Caleb Moss’s burner phone. There were eleven calls from the person coordinating him.”
Ryan looked at Evan.
“So?”
“The voice identification alone isn’t enough. But there was also one text message containing a photograph.”
Ortiz placed the printout on the desk.
It showed the gold ribbon tied around a champagne flute.
Below the picture were instructions:
THIS ONE GOES TO RYAN. NO MISTAKES.
Ryan looked at the metadata line.
The photograph had been taken inside Mercer House two days before the wedding.
Ortiz continued.
“We compared it against photos recovered from devices seized tonight.”
Evan went pale.
“The original image still exists on one phone.”
Ryan already knew.
Ortiz looked directly at Evan.
“Yours.”
Evan stared at the printout for several seconds.
Then he shook his head.
“That photo was taken for the rehearsal setup.”
Ortiz said nothing.
“I photographed the glass because Jenna asked which ribbon Grant wanted for the toast.”
The wedding planner, standing near the doorway, frowned.
“I never asked you that.”
Evan looked at her.
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
Ryan watched the last easy explanation collapse.
Ortiz slid the image into an evidence sleeve.
“The phone also shows the picture was deleted yesterday morning.”
Evan’s face tightened.
Ryan spoke quietly.
“You knew exactly what my glass was supposed to look like.”
Evan looked at him.
For the first time, he did not have an answer ready.
And Ryan realized something worse than suspicion.
May you like
His best friend was no longer trying to convince him.
He was calculating what Ryan knew.
