CHAPTER 2 — THE WOMAN WHO WOULD NOT BE AFRAID OF HIM
THE WOMAN WHO WOULD NOT BE AFRAID OF HIM
Nathan Mercer did not sleep that night.
At 2:17 a.m., he was still sitting in his study with the photograph lying on the desk.
Claire was twenty-nine in the picture.
Young.
Happy.
Alive.
Her arm was around Margaret Walker, Evelyn's grandmother.
Nathan had seen that photograph before.
Or at least he thought he had.
It had been taken at a charity event almost eight years earlier.
But Claire had never mentioned Margaret.
That was what frightened him.
Nathan picked up the photograph again.
On the back, Claire had written six words:
If anything happens, trust Margaret.
He read the sentence again.
Then again.
A knock came at the door.
Nathan looked up.
Evelyn stood there.
She was holding two mugs.
“Coffee.”
“I don't want coffee.”
“I brought you one anyway.”
She placed it on his desk.
Nathan stared at her.
“You knew your grandmother knew Claire?”
“No.”
“You never saw this photograph?”
“Not until tonight.”
“Then why did you recognize the watch?”
Evelyn sat in the chair opposite him.
“Because my grandmother had a photograph of it.”
Nathan's fingers tightened around the leather strap.
“Where?”
“Inside an old wooden box.”
“Do you still have it?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“My grandmother died three months ago.”
Nathan's expression softened slightly.
“I'm sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“What happened to her things?”
“My mother wanted to throw most of them away.”
“Why?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“She said Grandma had become obsessed with the past.”
Nathan leaned forward.
“What past?”
“Claire Mercer.”
The room went silent.
Evelyn continued.
“Near the end, Grandma kept saying that a woman had been murdered and everyone was pretending it was an accident.”
Nathan's heart stopped.
“She said Claire was murdered?”
“She didn't always say that.”
“What did she say?”
“Sometimes she said Claire was betrayed.”
Nathan stared at the photograph.
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
“You never asked?”
“I was sixteen when Grandma first mentioned her.”
“And now?”
“Now I wish I had listened.”
Nathan stood.
“Take me to your grandmother's house.”
Evelyn blinked.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“It's two in the morning.”
“I don't care.”
She studied him.
“You're not very good at patience, are you?”
“No.”
“I noticed.”
They left at 2:43 a.m.
Evelyn drove.
Nathan sat in the passenger seat.
He had never been in a vehicle this cheap.
The heater rattled.
The passenger door had to be slammed twice.
The windshield wipers squeaked.
Yet Nathan barely noticed.
He was thinking about Claire.
Seven years earlier, she had stood in their kitchen holding a cup of tea.
“I need to tell you something.”
He had been preparing for an overseas business trip.
“Tomorrow?”
“No.”
She had smiled.
“Tonight.”
He had never heard the rest.
Because that same night, Claire drove into the fog.
And never came home.
At the time, Nathan had assumed she had been upset with him.
Now he wondered what she had been trying to say.
The car climbed into the mountains.
Evelyn broke the silence.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever investigate her death yourself?”
Nathan looked through the windshield.
“The police investigated.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He said nothing.
Evelyn continued.
“You had money. Connections. Lawyers. Private investigators.”
“I investigated.”
“And?”
“I found nothing.”
“Or someone made sure you found nothing?”
Nathan looked at her.
“You really don't know when to stop.”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
Then the headlights caught something ahead.
A black SUV.
It was parked on the side of the road.
Evelyn slowed.
The SUV started its engine.
Nathan watched it pass.
The windows were tinted.
No license plate was visible.
“Do you know them?” Evelyn asked.
“No.”
The SUV disappeared into the fog.
Evelyn's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Someone has been following me.”
Nathan turned sharply.
“How long?”
“Since yesterday.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I wasn't sure.”
“Now you are?”
“I am.”
Nathan pulled out his phone.
“I'm calling security.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is watching me, I don't want them knowing I noticed.”
Nathan studied her.
She was frightened.
But she wasn't panicking.
That impressed him.
“Your grandmother taught you that?”
“My grandmother taught me that frightened people make stupid decisions.”
Nathan looked toward the road.
“Your grandmother sounds like she knew dangerous people.”
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“She did.”
They reached Margaret's farmhouse just before dawn.
The house was small.
Weathered.
Almost swallowed by trees.
Evelyn unlocked the door.
Inside, everything smelled like cedar and lavender.
Nathan stepped into the living room.
Photographs covered the walls.
Family.
Birthdays.
Christmases.
And then he saw Claire.
Three photographs.
One showed Claire standing beside Margaret.
Another showed Claire sitting at the kitchen table.
The third made Nathan's stomach tighten.
Claire was standing beside a dark-haired man.
Nathan recognized him immediately.
His younger brother.
Daniel.
Nathan whispered:
“Why was my brother here?”
Evelyn walked over.
“I don't know.”
Nathan took the photograph from the wall.
“Where did this come from?”
“My grandmother's collection.”
“When was it taken?”
Evelyn looked at the back.
“Seven years ago.”
Nathan's pulse accelerated.
“That's two weeks before Claire died.”
They searched the house.
Closets.
Drawers.
Attic.
Nothing.
Then Evelyn remembered the wooden box.
She found it beneath a loose floorboard in her grandmother's bedroom.
The box was locked.
Nathan looked at her.
“Do you have a key?”
“No.”
He examined the lock.
“Move.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
“You know how to pick locks?”
“I own several companies.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
Nathan pulled a small metal tool from his wallet.
Evelyn stared.
“Why do you carry that?”
“Long story.”
The lock clicked.
Inside were letters.
Dozens.
Most were old.
Some were addressed to Margaret.
One envelope had Claire's handwriting.
Nathan's hands began trembling.
He opened it.
The letter was dated October 12.
Seven years ago.
Margaret,
Nathan doesn't know. Daniel thinks he does. If I tell Nathan now, he will confront him, and I am afraid of what Daniel might do.
Nathan stopped reading.
His breathing became shallow.
Evelyn moved closer.
“What does it say?”
Nathan continued.
I found the transfers. The money isn't going where Nathan thinks it is. Daniel has been using the company to move millions through private accounts.
Nathan closed his eyes.
His brother.
His trusted brother.
His partner.
Claire had discovered his fraud.
Then he saw the final paragraph.
If I don't make it to you tomorrow, please give this to Nathan. And tell him one thing:
The crash wasn't an accident.
The letter slipped from Nathan's fingers.
Evelyn caught it.
Nathan stared at the floor.
Seven years of grief.
Seven years of guilt.
Seven years of believing Claire had died because of fog, bad luck, and a dangerous road.
His entire life had been built around a lie.
Then Evelyn noticed something else inside the box.
A small brass key.
Attached to it was a handwritten label.
Mercer Estate — Kitchen.
Nathan looked at Evelyn.
“Why would Claire hide something in my kitchen?”
Evelyn slowly shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Nathan stood.
“We're going home.”
“Why?”
He looked at the letter.
“Because there is something in my house someone desperately didn't want me to find.”
They returned to the estate just after sunrise.
Nathan went directly to the kitchen.
Evelyn followed.
He stared at the cabinets.
The ovens.
The walls.
Nothing looked unusual.
Then Evelyn noticed something.
A narrow wooden panel beneath the old pantry shelf.
“What's that?”
Nathan crouched.
There was a tiny keyhole.
He inserted the brass key.
Click.
The panel opened.
Inside was a black metal box.
Nathan pulled it out.
There was no lock.
He opened the lid.
Inside lay Claire's old phone.
A flash drive.
And a photograph of Nathan and Claire on their wedding day.
Nathan picked up the phone.
The battery was dead.
He stared at it.
“Seven years,” he whispered.
Evelyn touched his shoulder.
“We'll find out what happened.”
Nathan looked at her.
For the first time since Claire's death, someone wasn't telling him to move on.
May you like
She was telling him to look back.
And somewhere beyond the fog-covered mountains, someone was about to realize that Nathan Mercer had finally started asking the right questions.
