Chapter 3 - MY BROTHER'S NAME
Simon Mercer was my older brother.
He had also been my closest friend for most of my life.
We had inherited Mercer Architectural Group from our father.
Simon handled operations.
I handled international development.
That arrangement was the reason I traveled so often.
It was also the reason I had trusted my family to watch Perrin when I was away.
I called Simon from the kitchen while police searched the house.
He answered cheerfully.
"You're back early."
My blood froze.
I had told almost nobody that my flight had changed.
"Where are you?"
"Office."
"Stay there."
His voice changed.
"What's wrong?"
"I said stay there."
I ended the call.
Ortiz was standing across the room.
"You believe your son?"
"Yes."
"Even about Simon?"
I looked toward the hallway where Perrin sat with a child-services specialist.
"I believe everything he says until someone gives me a reason not to."
Ortiz nodded.
"Good."
She requested officers at Mercer's downtown office.
Then she asked me to show her Rhea's bedroom.
Calling it Rhea's bedroom felt strange.
For nearly a year, we had shared it.
Now every object inside looked like evidence.
Her closet was half empty.
Three suitcases were missing.
Several drawers had been cleared.
This had not been an impulsive escape.
She had prepared for something.
Ortiz opened the desk.
Most of the papers were ordinary.
Receipts.
Household expenses.
Travel confirmations.
Then she found a folder containing copies of my upcoming work schedule.
Every flight.
Every hotel.
Every meeting.
Dates stretching six months into the future.
"Did you give her this?"
"No."
Another officer entered.
"Detective."
He handed Ortiz a tablet.
Security footage from the estate had been recovered from a backup server.
Someone had deleted the most recent seventy-two hours.
But an exterior camera had captured Rhea leaving.
She was not alone.
A man sat in the passenger seat.
The angle did not show his face.
Ortiz froze the frame.
"Do you recognize the jacket?"
I did.
Brown leather.
Handmade.
I had given Simon the same jacket for his fiftieth birthday.
My phone rang.
Simon.
Ortiz raised a finger.
"Speaker."
I answered.
"Caleb, what the hell is happening?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the office."
Ortiz silently shook her head.
An officer had already confirmed his office was empty.
"Put your assistant on."
Silence.
"Caleb."
"Put her on."
He exhaled.
"I'm not actually there."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Where are you?"
"Driving."
"With Rhea?"
The line went quiet.
That silence shattered something inside me.
"Where is Mara?"
He answered too fast.
"Mara is dead."
Ortiz wrote something on a notepad and held it up.
KEEP HIM TALKING.
"Perrin saw you."
Simon said nothing.
"He saw you in the room beneath my house."
"He's a child."
"That sounds exactly like what Rhea said."
"Caleb, listen to me."
"No."
My voice cracked.
"You listen."
I had spent two years dreaming of Mara.
Sometimes she was standing in our kitchen.
Sometimes she was sitting beside Perrin's bed.
Sometimes I woke expecting to feel her breathing beside me.
Every morning I lost her again.
"If she's alive and you knew, I will never forgive you."
Simon breathed slowly.
When he finally spoke, the confidence was gone.
"You don't understand what's happening."
"Then explain it."
"I can't."
"Where is she?"
Another pause.
Then Simon whispered.
"You need to stop looking."
My entire body went cold.
Ortiz stared at me.
"Why?"
"Because Rhea will hurt her."
That was the first time Simon admitted Mara was alive.
My knees nearly gave out.
Ortiz grabbed the phone.
"Simon Mercer, this is Detective Lena Ortiz."
The call ended.
She immediately ordered his phone tracked.
The device went dark before the request completed.
Perrin appeared in the doorway.
I turned away so he would not see my face.
But children understand more than adults want to believe.
He walked toward me.
"Uncle Simon is bad now?"
I crouched.
"I don't know."
It was the truth.
I did not know who anyone was anymore.
Perrin reached inside his shirt.
He pulled out a small piece of red fabric.
"Mommy gave me this."
Ortiz knelt beside us.
"When?"
"When I saw her."
The fabric was torn from clothing.
Tiny black letters were printed along one edge.
Ortiz held it beneath the light.
CEDAR VALE RECOVERY CENTER.
I looked at her.
"We have a location."
Ortiz's expression remained serious.
"Maybe."
May you like
She stood.
"But if Rhea knows you found the room, she's already moving your wife."
