Chapter 9 - THE MATRIARCH
The meaning of the note followed me upstairs like something alive.
Next generation candidate approved.
I was not a granddaughter-in-law to Eleanor.
I was another selected variable.
Another maternal subject.
Another woman chosen because my genetics suited whatever future she wanted to manufacture.
Adrian tore the folder from the table.
“I’m going to destroy everything she built.”
Detective Ortiz stopped him.
“No.”
He looked at her furiously.
“That is evidence.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will care when she’s sitting in a courtroom.”
That stopped him.
Ortiz continued.
“Anger gets you ten minutes.”
“Evidence gets us convictions.”
Before Adrian could respond, an officer called from outside.
A vehicle had been found behind the property.
Registered to Dr. Samuel Mercer.
The engine was still warm.
Mercer was somewhere nearby.
Police searched the woods.
They found him thirty minutes later inside an abandoned caretaker cottage.
He was alone.
Eleanor was not.
Mercer was seventy-six now.
Thin.
White-haired.
Unsteady.
But he understood immediately that the evidence had finally outlived the secrets.
At first he requested an attorney.
Then Detective Ortiz showed him the video from Adrian’s wedding.
He stopped requesting anything.
“I didn’t intend to hurt Adrian.”
Adrian stared at him through the interview-room glass later that night.
“You put a needle in my arm.”
Mercer spoke to Ortiz.
“I followed Eleanor’s instructions.”
“For forty years?”
Mercer looked down.
“She controlled my career.”
“You killed Daniel Vale.”
“I treated Daniel.”
“You administered medication that caused his death.”
Mercer’s hands began trembling.
“I was told he was dangerous.”
“To whom?”
“The family.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Mercer looked toward the mirror.
He knew Adrian was probably behind it.
“He was going to expose everything.”
“Everything meaning illegal fertility procedures, forged medical diagnoses, coerced signatures, and concealed adoptions?”
Mercer closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And murder?”
Mercer looked at her.
“Daniel wasn’t supposed to die.”
Adrian lunged toward the glass.
I grabbed his arm.
Ortiz’s recorded voice remained calm.
“Then explain why your handwritten note says dosage successful.”
Mercer’s face collapsed.
“Eleanor changed the plan.”
“What plan?”
“To frighten him.”
“With cardiac medication?”
“She wanted him hospitalized.”
“What changed?”
“He told her he had sent the files.”
“And?”
“She said we could no longer control him.”
Mercer began crying.
“I increased the dose.”
Adrian turned away from the window.
I followed him into the corridor.
“You don’t have to listen.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I spent six years wondering why I couldn’t save my brother.”
“You didn’t know.”
“He called me the night before he died.”
I froze.
“You never told me.”
“I forgot until now.”
“What did he say?”
Adrian looked devastated.
“He asked me if I trusted Grandmother.”
“What did you say?”
“I laughed.”
He swallowed.
“I told him she was difficult, but she loved us.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Daniel knew you didn’t understand.”
“I hung up because I had a meeting.”
His voice broke.
“The next morning, he was dead.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
For once, Adrian let himself cry.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just years of grief finally losing the lie that had contained it.
An hour later, Mercer asked to speak directly with Adrian.
Ortiz allowed it with supervision.
Mercer could barely meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Adrian sat across the table.
“My brother is dead.”
“I know.”
“You made me believe I would die the same way.”
Mercer nodded.
“You gave me medication I never needed.”
“Yes.”
“You falsified my tests.”
“Yes.”
“You helped manipulate my birth.”
Mercer closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Who is my biological father?”
“Michael Arden.”
Adrian stared at him.
“And Daniel?”
Mercer hesitated.
“Not Michael.”
“Who?”
Mercer looked genuinely frightened.
Adrian leaned forward.
“Who was Daniel’s father?”
“Eleanor never told Thomas.”
“I’m not Thomas.”
Mercer whispered the name.
“Victor Hale.”
I felt cold.
The man who had tried to enter our burning hotel room.
Adrian’s voice went flat.
“You used Eleanor’s security contractor as a donor?”
“He was younger then.”
“Did he know?”
“Yes.”
“Did Daniel know?”
“Eventually.”
Suddenly the hotel attack made sense.
Victor Hale wasn’t merely protecting Eleanor.
Daniel had been his biological son.
Adrian stared at Mercer.
“Why would Hale help cover up Daniel’s murder?”
Mercer looked away.
“That is something you need to ask him.”
Detective Ortiz did exactly that.
Victor remained silent until she told him they knew.
Then he broke.
Not immediately.
But eventually.
“Daniel contacted me.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before he died.”
“What did he want?”
“The truth.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Yes.”
“And after he died?”
“I confronted Eleanor.”
“What did she say?”
“That Daniel had become a liability.”
“What did you do?”
Victor looked ashamed.
“Nothing.”
“Six years later you tried to burn Adrian and his wife inside a hotel.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill them.”
Ortiz stared at him.
“Then what were you doing?”
“Getting the notebook.”
“You started a fire.”
“I needed the floor evacuated.”
“And entered their room.”
“Yes.”
“With gloves and restraints.”
Victor said nothing.
Ortiz leaned forward.
“Where is Eleanor?”
“I don’t know.”
“She had a flight booked with you.”
“That was the plan.”
“What changed?”
“She received a phone call.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she say afterward?”
Victor looked toward the table.
“She said Daniel had betrayed her twice.”
Ortiz frowned.
“Daniel is dead.”
“I know.”
“What did she mean?”
Victor shook his head.
“She said there was one copy left.”
My pulse accelerated.
Daniel’s missing evidence.
The person messaging me.
“Where?”
Victor swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
Ortiz placed my phone message in front of him.
Victor stared at it.
Then all color left his face.
“You need to get them out of the city.”
“Why?”
“That message.”
“What about it?”
“I’ve seen that wording before.”
“Where?”
“Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
Victor continued.
“He used to send messages exactly like that.”
Adrian leaned toward the glass.
Ortiz asked the obvious question.
“Daniel Vale has been dead for six years.”
May you like
Victor stared at her.
Then he whispered, “Are you sure?”
