CHAPTER 3 — THE WATCH STOPPED AT 11:43
THE WATCH STOPPED AT 11:43
The old phone wouldn't turn on.
Nathan tried three different chargers.
Nothing.
The screen remained black.
Evelyn stood across the kitchen island watching him.
“You're going to break it.”
“I've repaired phones before.”
“You've broken three.”
Nathan looked at the pile of chargers.
“I haven't.”
“You absolutely have.”
He glared at her.
She smiled.
“You're easier to annoy when you're frustrated.”
“I don't get frustrated.”
“Right.”
He almost laughed.
Almost.
Then his eyes fell on the phone again.
Seven years earlier, Claire had held that exact device in her hand.
She had called him from it.
Texted him from it.
Taken photographs with it.
And now it sat in his palm like a message from a dead woman.
Nathan contacted an old technician who had worked for Mercer Industries.
An hour later, the technician arrived.
He examined the phone.
“The battery is completely dead.”
“Can you recover the data?”
“Probably.”
“How long?”
The technician hesitated.
“Maybe a day.”
Nathan's expression darkened.
“I don't have a day.”
The technician looked at Evelyn.
She sighed.
“That's his way of saying please.”
The technician smiled.
“I'll work on it.”
He took the phone downstairs.
Nathan watched him disappear.
Then Evelyn noticed something.
“Your watch.”
Nathan looked down.
“What about it?”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It's Claire's.”
“I know.”
She pointed at the cracked glass.
“Look closely.”
Nathan removed the watch.
Evelyn turned it beneath the kitchen light.
“There.”
A tiny dark mark appeared beneath the glass.
“What is that?”
“Looks like ink.”
Nathan frowned.
Evelyn fetched a magnifying glass.
The mark wasn't ink.
It was a number.
7-14-21.
Nathan stared.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
He looked at her.
“You're the one who found it.”
“I found the number. I didn't invent the mystery.”
Nathan turned the watch over.
The back plate had a tiny indentation.
Evelyn pressed it.
Nothing.
She tried again.
A thin compartment opened.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
Nathan froze.
He unfolded it.
Three words.
TRUST NO ONE.
His breathing changed.
Evelyn looked at him.
“Claire hid that inside her watch.”
“Yes.”
“Then she knew she was in danger.”
Nathan nodded.
“And she knew she couldn't trust anyone.”
“Except your grandmother.”
He looked at her.
“Apparently.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Both turned.
A man's voice called:
“Mr. Mercer?”
It was James, Nathan's head of security.
Nathan slipped the note into his pocket.
James entered.
“Your meeting is in twenty minutes.”
“Cancel it.”
James frowned.
“The investors are already here.”
“Cancel it.”
“Sir, they flew in from Boston.”
“I don't care.”
James glanced at Evelyn.
Nathan noticed.
“Why are you looking at her?”
James looked away.
“No reason.”
Evelyn's expression tightened.
Nathan stepped closer.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Then leave.”
James nodded.
As he walked away, Evelyn whispered:
“He knew something.”
Nathan agreed.
“Yes.”
That afternoon, Nathan went through every security record from the week Claire died.
He found nothing.
Then Evelyn noticed something strange.
“Wait.”
She pointed at a log.
“What's this?”
Nathan looked.
“Security system maintenance.”
“On the night Claire died?”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized it?”
Nathan opened the record.
His face changed.
“James.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Your security chief.”
“Yes.”
“What did he disable?”
Nathan scanned the report.
“Exterior cameras.”
“For how long?”
“Forty-seven minutes.”
“That's exactly when Claire left.”
Nathan stood.
“Find James.”
“He isn't answering.”
Nathan called again.
Straight to voicemail.
Then the house alarm suddenly sounded.
Nathan and Evelyn froze.
A security officer shouted from the hallway.
“Someone's at the gate!”
Nathan ran outside.
A black SUV sat beyond the iron gates.
The same vehicle from the mountain road.
“Open the gate!”
The officer hesitated.
The SUV accelerated.
The gates shook as it slammed into them.
Nathan stepped backward.
Evelyn grabbed his arm.
“Get inside!”
The SUV reversed.
Then slammed into the gate again.
Metal bent.
Nathan shouted:
“Call the police!”
A third impact.
The gate broke.
The SUV raced up the driveway.
Security guards scattered.
Nathan grabbed Evelyn and pulled her behind a stone pillar.
The SUV stopped.
The driver's door opened.
A man stepped out.
Black coat.
Dark glasses.
He held something in his hand.
A small envelope.
He walked toward the house.
Nathan stood.
“Who are you?”
The man stopped.
“You're asking questions that should have stayed buried.”
Nathan's voice hardened.
“Who are you?”
The man threw the envelope onto the ground.
Then he ran back to the SUV.
The vehicle sped away.
Nathan opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Claire.
Standing beside Daniel.
On the back:
SHE DIDN'T DIE ALONE.
Evelyn looked at Nathan.
“There's something else.”
She pointed at the photograph.
In the reflection of a window behind Claire, a second person was visible.
Nathan zoomed in.
His stomach dropped.
It was James.
His own security chief.
Nathan stared at the photograph.
“James was there.”
Evelyn nodded.
“And if he was there that night…”
Nathan's voice became quiet.
“He knows what happened.”
James finally appeared at the estate after dark.
Nathan was waiting in the study.
Evelyn stood near the doorway.
James entered nervously.
“You wanted me?”
Nathan stood.
“Where were you the night Claire died?”
James froze.
“I don't remember.”
“You don't remember?”
“It was seven years ago.”
Nathan threw the photograph onto the desk.
James looked at it.
His face drained of color.
“Where did you get that?”
“Answer me.”
James sat down.
“I didn't hurt her.”
Nathan's eyes narrowed.
“I never said you did.”
James realized his mistake.
Silence filled the room.
Evelyn whispered:
“Who did?”
James looked toward the door.
Then toward the windows.
Finally, he said:
“Daniel.”
Nathan's entire body went still.
“My brother?”
James nodded.
“He ordered me to disable the cameras.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
James swallowed.
“She was meeting a lawyer.”
“Why?”
“She had evidence against Daniel.”
Nathan stepped closer.
“Did Daniel kill her?”
James shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
James's eyes filled with fear.
“I don't know.”
Nathan slammed his hand against the desk.
“You're lying.”
James stood.
“I saw Claire leave the estate.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
James hesitated.
“I followed Daniel.”
“Where?”
“Hawthorne Ridge.”
Nathan's face turned pale.
“Then what happened?”
James looked directly at him.
“I saw another car.”
“What car?”
“Your car.”
Nathan stared.
“My car was at the estate.”
James shook his head.
“No.”
He whispered:
“Someone had taken it.”
Nathan felt the room tilt.
Someone had used his own vehicle.
Someone had made it look as though Nathan had been involved.
Evelyn stepped forward.
“Who had access to the keys?”
Nathan didn't answer.
James did.
“Daniel.”
Silence.
Then the old phone on Nathan's desk suddenly lit up.
The screen showed one message.
A single line.
Nathan, if you're reading this, don't trust my brother.
Claire.
Nathan stared at the words.
The message had been scheduled seven years earlier.
And beneath it was a location.
Hawthorne Ridge.
Evelyn looked at him.
“Are you going?”
Nathan picked up Claire's watch.
The hands still pointed to 11:43.
“Yes.”
May you like
He looked toward the dark mountains.
“I'm going to find out what happened at 11:43.”
