CHAPTER 4 — THE MAN IN THE BLACK SUV
THE MAN IN THE BLACK SUV
The road to Hawthorne Ridge disappeared beneath a blanket of fog.
Nathan drove with both hands locked around the steering wheel.
Evelyn sat beside him, holding Claire's old phone.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
The only sound was rain striking the windshield.
Finally, Evelyn broke the silence.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Nathan didn't look at her.
“No.”
“Good.”
He glanced at her.
“That wasn't the answer I expected.”
“I didn't ask if you were ready. I asked if you were sure.”
Nathan almost smiled.
“You really don't know when to stop.”
“No.”
She looked through the windshield.
“Neither did Claire.”
Nathan's expression changed.
“What makes you say that?”
“Your wife knew someone was dangerous. She kept investigating anyway.”
He tightened his grip on the wheel.
“She was stubborn.”
“She was brave.”
Nathan was quiet.
After a moment, he said:
“She was both.”
Hawthorne Ridge looked exactly as Nathan remembered.
The road curved sharply along the mountain.
Trees crowded the pavement.
Fog swallowed the guardrail.
Seven years earlier, Claire's car had gone through that guardrail.
Nathan had stood at the scene until dawn.
He remembered the twisted metal.
The flashing police lights.
The rain.
And the moment an officer had placed Claire's wedding ring into his palm.
He had never returned to this road.
Until now.
Evelyn looked out the window.
“Stop.”
Nathan slowed.
“Why?”
“There.”
She pointed.
A narrow dirt road disappeared between the trees.
Nathan remembered it.
“That's an old service road.”
“Where does it go?”
“To an abandoned ranger station.”
They turned.
Branches scraped against the sides of the SUV.
After several minutes, they saw something ahead.
A building.
Small.
Weathered.
Its windows were boarded.
Nathan stopped.
“This wasn't here the night Claire died.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
They got out.
The rain had become heavier.
Nathan pulled open the door.
The room smelled of damp wood.
There were old chairs.
A broken desk.
And a wall covered with maps.
Evelyn walked toward it.
“Look.”
A red line had been drawn across the mountain.
It ended at Hawthorne Ridge.
Nathan studied it.
“Someone mapped the road.”
“Recently.”
“How do you know?”
“The ink isn't faded.”
Nathan looked closer.
There were dates written beside several points.
One was seven years old.
Another was six months old.
Another was yesterday.
Nathan's stomach tightened.
“Someone is still using this place.”
A noise came from upstairs.
They froze.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Nathan whispered:
“Stay behind me.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes.
“You have no idea how much I hate that sentence.”
The footsteps stopped.
Nathan climbed the stairs.
Evelyn followed.
At the top was a narrow hallway.
A door stood open.
Inside was a desk.
A laptop.
Several folders.
And dozens of photographs.
Nathan walked toward them.
His blood ran cold.
They were photographs of him.
Leaving his office.
Entering his home.
Meeting investors.
And then—
Evelyn.
Photographs of Evelyn arriving at Mercer Estate.
Walking through the kitchen.
Driving to her grandmother's farmhouse.
Nathan stared.
“They've been watching you.”
Evelyn nodded.
“I told you.”
Nathan turned.
“You should leave.”
“No.”
“This isn't safe.”
“Neither is staying here.”
She picked up one photograph.
It showed her grandmother.
Taken months before Margaret died.
Evelyn's face changed.
“This was taken recently.”
Nathan looked at the date.
Three weeks before her grandmother's death.
Evelyn whispered:
“Someone was watching her too.”
Then she noticed a folder.
The label read:
PROJECT 11:43
Nathan opened it.
Inside were financial records.
Vehicle registrations.
Phone logs.
And one handwritten note.
Phase Two begins when Nathan hires the new cook.
Nathan's eyes narrowed.
He looked at Evelyn.
“You weren't supposed to find this.”
She swallowed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your arrival wasn't random.”
Evelyn stepped backward.
“You think I was sent here?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Someone knew you would come.”
She stared at him.
“Who?”
Before Nathan could answer, a gunshot shattered the window.
Glass exploded across the room.
Nathan grabbed Evelyn and pulled her to the floor.
Another shot.
The laptop shattered.
“Down!”
They crawled behind the desk.
A third shot hit the wall.
Nathan looked toward the broken window.
“Someone's outside.”
Evelyn whispered:
“How do we get out?”
“Back door.”
They ran.
The rain hid them as they escaped through the rear entrance.
Nathan grabbed Evelyn's hand.
They ran down the slope.
A flashlight swept through the trees behind them.
“Keep moving!”
They reached the SUV.
Nathan opened the door.
Evelyn jumped inside.
He started the engine.
The vehicle roared forward.
A black SUV appeared behind them.
Nathan looked into the mirror.
“The same one.”
It accelerated.
Evelyn turned.
“They're following us.”
Nathan pressed the accelerator.
The mountain road twisted ahead.
The black SUV stayed close.
Nathan took a sharp turn onto another road.
The tires slid.
Evelyn grabbed the dashboard.
“You're going to kill us!”
“I know!”
“That wasn't comforting!”
The black SUV gained on them.
Then it pulled alongside.
Nathan looked through the window.
The driver was wearing black glasses.
The same man from the estate.
He raised his hand.
Not a gun.
A phone.
He held it against the window.
A message appeared on Nathan's screen.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE PAST ALONE.
Nathan's jaw tightened.
He accelerated.
The black SUV suddenly veered away.
It disappeared into the fog.
Nathan slowed.
Evelyn looked at him.
“Why did they let us go?”
“I don't know.”
Then Nathan noticed something on the passenger seat.
A small black envelope.
Evelyn stared.
“That wasn't there before.”
Nathan picked it up.
Inside was a key.
And a photograph.
Claire stood beside Daniel.
Behind them was another man.
Nathan recognized him.
His face went pale.
“Who is that?”
Evelyn asked.
Nathan whispered:
“My father.”
“But your father died fifteen years ago.”
“I know.”
On the back of the photograph was a sentence.
THE MEN WHO BUILT THE EMPIRE NEVER REALLY LEFT.
They returned to the estate before midnight.
Nathan ordered security to double the perimeter.
He locked every door.
Then he placed the photograph on the dining table.
Evelyn sat opposite him.
“Your father died before Claire.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he appear in a photograph taken seven years ago?”
Nathan didn't answer.
“Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless the date is wrong.”
Nathan picked up a magnifying glass.
The photograph was old.
But the metadata from the digital scan showed it had been created recently.
Someone had scanned an old photograph.
Then altered the date.
Nathan looked at Evelyn.
“This is a warning.”
She nodded.
“But why?”
A soft knock came from the kitchen.
They both turned.
No one should have been there.
Nathan reached for the gun in the drawer.
He walked slowly toward the kitchen.
The door was open.
The lights were off.
Then he saw something on the counter.
A silver tray.
On it was a single burned biscuit.
Evelyn stared.
“I didn't make that.”
Nathan stepped closer.
Underneath the biscuit was a folded piece of paper.
He opened it.
ASK JAMES ABOUT THE SECOND CAR.
Evelyn looked at him.
“James?”
Nathan immediately called security.
No answer.
He called again.
Still nothing.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nathan answered.
A man's voice whispered:
“Your security chief is already dead.”
Nathan froze.
“Who is this?”
“You've been looking for the wrong person.”
“Where is James?”
A pause.
Then:
“He was never your enemy.”
The line went dead.
Evelyn stared at Nathan.
“What did he say?”
Nathan looked toward the dark windows.
“He said James wasn't the one we should fear.”
A car horn suddenly sounded outside.
Nathan and Evelyn rushed to the window.
A black SUV sat beyond the gates.
Its headlights were on.
Then the driver stepped out.
He removed his glasses.
Nathan recognized him.
But this time, Nathan knew his name.
Daniel Mercer.
His own brother.
Daniel raised one hand.
And smiled.
The same smile Nathan remembered from the night Claire died.
May you like
Then he mouthed three words through the rain:
Come outside, brother.
