Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Was Buried Alive
Dominic Mercer had attended his mother's funeral when he was sixteen years old.
He remembered the rain.
The black umbrellas.
The polished mahogany coffin.
He remembered his father standing beside the grave without shedding a tear.
And he remembered asking why he wasn't allowed to see her one last time.
"Fire," his father had said.
"There's nothing left you should remember."
For twenty-three years, Dominic had believed him.
Now he sat in the back of an SUV holding a photograph of a woman who looked older, thinner, and terribly familiar.
Her name was Catherine Mercer.
And she was alive.
Norah watched him silently.
The city passed outside in streaks of light.
"Are you okay?" she finally asked.
"No."
It was the most honest answer he could have given.
"Do you recognize the hospital?"
He studied the photograph.
"Not the hospital. The window."
"What about it?"
"Those bars. The old radiator. That's not a modern medical facility."
Norah leaned closer.
"Maybe a long-term care center?"
"Or a psychiatric hospital."
She looked at him.
"Why would someone keep your mother hidden for twenty-three years?"
Dominic stared at the photograph.
"Because she knew something."
They traced the image through a partial room number visible behind Lily's shoulder.
The number corresponded to a private care facility in suburban Oak Park that had changed ownership several times.
Its current owner was a company called Whitmore Clinical Services.
Norah felt her stomach drop.
"Valerie's family."
Dominic nodded.
They arrived just before dawn.
The building looked like an old mansion converted into a medical center. Ivy covered the brick walls, and a single security camera watched the entrance.
Dominic had brought only one trusted driver, a former Army medic named Elias Reed.
He had also contacted an attorney outside the Mercer organization.
No one else knew where they were.
Inside, a receptionist insisted there was no patient named Catherine Mercer.
Dominic placed the photograph on the desk.
"Then explain this."
The receptionist's face drained of color.
"I can't discuss patient information."
Norah stepped forward.
"Please. We're not trying to cause trouble. We just want to know if she's safe."
The receptionist looked at her.
Then at Dominic.
"Are you her son?"
"Yes."
The woman lowered her voice.
"She was moved yesterday."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Someone here knows."
A door opened behind the desk.
An elderly nurse appeared.
She was short, gray-haired, and wearing worn white sneakers.
"Mr. Mercer?"
Dominic turned.
The nurse stared at him with tears gathering in her eyes.
"You look just like your mother said you would."
Her name was Ruth Ellison.
She had worked at the facility for eleven years.
And for all eleven, Catherine Mercer had been one of her patients.
"She wasn't mentally ill," Ruth said when they reached an empty consultation room. "Not the way her records claimed."
"What was wrong with her?" Dominic asked.
"She had suffered a traumatic brain injury. Some memory loss. Episodes of confusion. But she improved."
"Then why was she kept here?"
Ruth looked toward the door.
"Because every time she asked to leave, someone from Whitmore Clinical Services extended her involuntary placement through questionable paperwork."
Norah felt sick.
"Did nobody challenge it?"
"I tried."
"What happened?"
"I was told I'd lose my nursing license."
Dominic sat very still.
"Who paid for her care?"
"Your father originally. After he died, the payments continued through a trust."
"My father died nine years ago."
Ruth nodded.
"Someone kept the arrangement going."
"Adrian?"
"I don't know."
"Valerie?"
Ruth hesitated.
"She visited."
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
"When?"
"Several times over the past year."
"What did she want?"
"Your mother kept asking about a child."
Norah leaned forward.
"What child?"
Ruth folded her hands.
"A baby born at the Ashcroft Hotel twenty-three years ago."
Dominic looked at Norah.
The settlement.
The photograph.
The note.
Everything seemed to be circling the same night.
Ruth continued.
"Your mother said a young hotel employee saved the baby. She kept repeating the employee's name."
Norah whispered, "Evelyn Bennett."
Ruth stared at her.
"Yes."
The room went silent.
Norah gripped the edge of her chair.
"My mother."
Ruth nodded.
"Catherine said Evelyn was the only person who tried to help."
Dominic stood.
"What happened that night?"
Ruth looked at him sadly.
"Your mother said your father was arranging a transaction. Something involving the Whitmore family. She discovered it and threatened to expose him."
"What transaction?"
Ruth swallowed.
"A child."
Dominic's face changed.
"Whose child?"
"I don't know."
Norah felt a sudden wave of dread.
Ruth reached into her pocket.
"Catherine knew they were coming to move her. She gave me this."
It was a small digital recorder.
"She said if her son ever came, I should give it to him."
Dominic pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then a woman's voice emerged.
Weak.
Unsteady.
But unmistakably emotional.
"Dominic, sweetheart, if you're hearing this, I'm sorry."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"I tried to come home. I tried so many times."
A shaky breath.
"Your father told everyone I died because I refused to sign the papers. He said if I spoke again, he would take you away forever."
The recording crackled.
"The baby wasn't supposed to survive. Evelyn saved her. I saw her carry that little girl down the service stairs."
Norah's heart hammered.
Catherine began crying.
"Dominic, there is something you must know about Adrian."
Dominic leaned forward.
The recording stopped.
Battery failure.
For a long moment, nobody moved.
Then Ruth spoke.
"There's another recording."
"Where?" Dominic demanded.
"Catherine kept it with her."
"Where did they take her?"
Ruth shook her head.
"I don't know."
Dominic stood so abruptly his chair struck the wall.
Norah caught his arm.
"Dominic."
He looked at her.
"We'll find her."
His expression broke.
Just for a second.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man's voice spoke.
"Your mother is alive, Dominic."
Dominic went rigid.
Adrian.
"Where is she?"
"Come to the Mercer Grand tonight. Alone."
"Adrian—"
"And bring Norah Bennett."
Norah watched Dominic's face turn cold.
May you like
Adrian continued.
"Because before the night is over, she's going to learn why her mother was paid to keep quiet."
