Chapter 6: The Man Outside
“Everybody away from the window.””
Marcus said it quietly, but neither Jordan nor I needed to be told twice.
We stepped back.
The blinds remained open.
David Mercer stood across the street beneath the fading sunlight.
He wasn't trying to hide.
That frightened me more than if he had been.
Jordan whispered, “That's him.””
Marcus looked at him.
“You're sure?””
“Yes.””
“How do you know him?””
“Lena showed me pictures.””
“Of him?””
Jordan nodded.
I pressed my hand against my chest.
My heartbeat felt violent.
Marcus picked up his phone.
“I'm calling the police.””
Jordan's eyes widened.
“What if they take Lena?””
“If she's in danger, they need to know.””
“She'll disappear.””
“Jordan, someone who may be an adult is communicating with you, taking money from you, and apparently knows where we live.””
“He didn't take it!””
“Jordan.””
“I gave it to her.””
“Because she asked.””
“She needed it!””
Marcus looked at me.
I could see him fighting to remain calm.
Then his phone began ringing.
Unknown number.
We all stared at it.
The ringing stopped.
A second later, a text appeared.
*Tell Evelyn to answer.*
My stomach turned.
Marcus looked at me.
“No.””
I shook my head.
“Don't.””
The phone rang again.
Same number.
Marcus rejected the call.
Immediately, another message arrived.
*Twenty years ago, you thought you destroyed me.*
My knees weakened.
Marcus caught my arm.
“Evelyn?””
I stared at the screen.
“That's him.””
“You're sure?””
“I know that sentence.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“What happened twenty years ago?””
I swallowed.
“I told you.””
“No. You told me he lost his company.””
“That wasn't all.””
Jordan looked between us.
“What happened?””
I closed my eyes.
The memory came back with brutal clarity.
A conference room.
A stack of financial statements.
David Mercer sitting across from me with a smile that never reached his eyes.
He had leaned forward.
“You're making a mistake.””
I had pushed the folder toward him.
“No. I'm correcting one.””
“You don't understand what you're looking at.””
“I understand exactly what I'm looking at.””
He had smiled.
“You should be careful.””
I had felt afraid then.
But I hadn't shown it.
“What does that mean?””
He had tapped the folder.
“You have a career.””
I stared at him.
“So do you.””
He laughed.
“You think this ends with me?””
I never told anyone about that conversation.
Not my boss.
Not my parents.
Not Marcus.
I thought David's warning had disappeared with him.
I was wrong.
Marcus's voice pulled me back.
“What did he threaten you with?””
I looked at my husband.
“He said I'd regret exposing him.””
“Did he ever contact you afterward?””
“No.””
“You're lying.””
I flinched.
Marcus softened immediately.
“I'm sorry. But if we're going to protect Jordan, I need the truth.””
I nodded.
“He sent one letter.””
“When?””
“Three months after the investigation.””
“What did it say?””
I looked toward the window.
“I threw it away.””
Marcus stared at me.
“What did it say?””
I whispered, “That he knew where I lived.””
Jordan's face went pale.
“Mom.””
“I thought he was trying to scare me.””
“And now?””
I couldn't answer.
The doorbell rang.
All three of us froze.
Once.
Then again.
Jordan stepped backward.
Marcus moved in front of us.
“Stay here.””
He walked toward the foyer.
The doorbell rang a third time.
I grabbed Jordan's arm.
“Don't move.””
Marcus looked through the peephole.
His shoulders stiffened.
Then he stepped back.
“It's not him.””
“Who is it?”” I whispered.
Marcus didn't answer.
He unlocked the deadbolt but kept the chain engaged.
When he opened the door, a woman stood on the porch.
She was in her late forties.
Black coat.
Braided hair.
Tears streaking down her face.
She looked past Marcus.
Her eyes landed on Jordan.
“Are you Jordan?””
He stepped forward.
“Yes.””
The woman covered her mouth.
“Oh, thank God.””
Marcus kept the chain locked.
“Who are you?””
The woman looked at him.
“My name is Tasha.””
“Do you know Lena?””
The woman's face crumpled.
“Yes.””
Jordan stepped closer.
“Is she okay?””
Tasha looked at him.
“No.””
Jordan's face went white.
“What happened?””
“She tried to leave.””
“When?””
“An hour ago.””
“Where is she?””
Tasha glanced over her shoulder toward the street.
“I don't know.””
Marcus opened the door slightly wider.
“What does this have to do with my family?””
Tasha stared at me.
Then she whispered, “Because Lena didn't find Jordan by accident.””
My blood ran cold.
“What?””
Tasha looked at Jordan.
“She was told to contact him.””
“By whom?””
Tasha hesitated.
“David.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“Why?””
Tasha shook her head.
“I don't know everything.””
“You came to my house,” Marcus said, “so start telling us.””
Tasha looked at me again.
“Twenty years ago, you helped put David Mercer in prison.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“I didn't put him in prison.””
“You gave investigators the evidence.””
“I gave my employer records.””
“And those records put him away.””
Marcus looked at me.
“How long?””
“Four years.””
Jordan stared at me.
“Mom, you never told me.””
“I never wanted you involved.””
Tasha's voice trembled.
“You weren't supposed to be.””
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
Tasha pulled an envelope from inside her coat.
She held it toward me.
“David kept records.””
Marcus reached through the opening.
“What kind of records?””
“People.””
I stared at the envelope.
“What?””
“People who crossed him. People who owed him. People he blamed.””
Marcus took the envelope.
Tasha whispered, “Your name is in there.””
My breath caught.
Jordan stepped closer.
“What does he want?””
Tasha looked at him.
“He wants what he believes your mother took from him.””
“I didn't take anything.””
“I know.””
“What does he think I took?””
Tasha's eyes filled with tears.
“An account.””
Marcus frowned.
“What account?””
“The one that disappeared before David went to prison.””
I felt a strange memory surface.
A number.
A bank account.
A file I had seen only once.
An account with millions of dollars moving through it.
I suddenly remembered something I hadn't thought about in twenty years.
The account had been closed.
But the money had never been recovered.
Marcus looked at me.
“You know something.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Evelyn.””
“I don't.””
Tasha's face changed.
Then she looked behind us.
“Where is the photograph?””
I frowned.
“What photograph?””
“The one David showed you.””
Marcus looked at the dining room.
The photograph from the email was still on the laptop.
Tasha saw it.
Her face drained of color.
“Oh no.””
“What?”” Jordan asked.
She pointed at the screen.
“That picture wasn't sent by Lena.””
Jordan froze.
“What?””
Tasha shook her head.
“Lena doesn't have that photograph.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Then who sent it?””
Tasha looked directly at me.
“David.””
Outside, tires screeched.
Marcus turned toward the window.
The dark SUV was gone.
But there was a new notification on my laptop.
One message.
One attachment.
I opened it.
It was a photograph of our house.
Taken from across the street.
Taken minutes ago.
Beneath it were four words.
*You still have my money.*
Marcus stared at the screen.
Then his phone rang.
This time, there was no number.
Just one word on the display.
*PRIVATE.*
He answered.
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Older.
Calmer.
And unmistakably familiar.
“Hello, Evelyn.””
My blood ran cold.
May you like
David Mercer laughed softly.
“I think it's time we finished our conversation.””