Rebecca did not move.
For several seconds, the only sound in the basement was the faint hum of the furnace.
I held up my phone.
“The message says the ledger is with you.”
Rebecca looked at Charles.
Charles looked away.
Morrison immediately stepped between us.
“Rebecca.”
“I don't have it.”
“You knew where it was.”
She swallowed.
“I knew where Emily believed it was.”
“That isn't the same thing,” I said.
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
Rebecca sat on the basement stairs.
Her shoulders seemed to collapse.
“Emily gave me something the night before she died.”
“What?”
“A key.”
My heart sank.
“What kind of key?”
“A safe-deposit key.”
“Where?”
“Philadelphia.”
“Whose box?”
“Evelyn Mercer's.”
I stared at her.
“My grandmother had a safe-deposit box?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“I didn't know what was inside.”
“Did you open it?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Not until six months ago.”
Morrison's expression hardened.
“Why six months ago?”
“Because Victor contacted me.”
The name changed the atmosphere immediately.
“What did he want?”
“He said Emily had been right.”
Rebecca looked at me.
“He said Harbor was collapsing.”
“Then what?”
“He told me someone had discovered the original ledger.”
I asked, “Did he have it?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“Evelyn.”
“But she was dead.”
“That's why Victor needed me.”
Rebecca explained that Victor had learned of the safe-deposit box after Emily's death. He had spent years trying to locate it. Six months earlier, he finally discovered the key existed.
“He contacted me because he thought I could open it.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Letters.”
“From whom?”
“Your grandmother.”
“To you?”
“No.”
“To Emily.”
She reached into her coat and removed a folded envelope.
My name appeared on it.
I took it.
The handwriting was my grandmother's.
The letter was dated eight years earlier.
I read it silently.
Evelyn wrote that she feared Harbor had become impossible to dismantle from within. She had begun preserving evidence in case she died before she could expose the people involved.
Then came a sentence that made my hands tremble.
Emily Shaw was the only person I trust to finish what I started.
Rebecca looked at me.
“Emily intended to expose them.”
“What stopped her?”
“She died.”
I looked at Charles.
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know she was going to die?”
His expression changed.
“No.”
I believed him.
For the first time, he looked genuinely ashamed.
Morrison asked Rebecca, “Where is the ledger now?”
“I moved it.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Morrison stared at her.
“You don't know?”
“I gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“Your grandmother's attorney.”
“My grandmother's attorney died.”
“Not all of them.”
She explained that one surviving attorney, Thomas Bell, had retired to Vermont. He had received the ledger six years before Evelyn's death.
“He promised he would keep it hidden.”
“Then where is he now?”
“Dead.”
I stared.
“Everyone connected to this is dead.”
“Not everyone.”
Rebecca looked toward Charles.
He remained silent.
Morrison asked, “Who else knew?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Ellen Sterling.”
“She died.”
“Yes.”
“Victor?”
“He knew pieces.”
“Julian?”
“He knew there was a ledger.”
“Liam?”
“I don't know.”
“Chloe?”
“I don't know.”
The uncertainty was becoming unbearable.
Then Charles spoke.
“Liam knows.”
We all turned.
“How?”
“Because Liam was the person who moved the original Harbor funds.”
Morrison's face tightened.
“Then why hasn't he taken the ledger?”
“Because he doesn't know where it is.”
I asked, “Who does?”
Charles looked at me.
“You.”
I stared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Evelyn gave you the final clue.”
I thought about my childhood.
My grandmother's house.
The garden.
The wooden boxes.
The stories she told me.
Nothing made sense.
Then I remembered the brass key.
“Where did she keep it?”
Charles said, “You already have the answer.”
I searched the wooden box.
Photographs.
Letters.
The key.
Then I found a tiny envelope hidden beneath the lining.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of my grandmother's garden.
At first it looked ordinary.
Then I noticed the stone bench.
On the back she had written:
Where the roses meet the wall.
I remembered.
Her old house had a brick garden wall covered with climbing roses.
There was a loose stone near the base.
I looked at Charles.
“The ledger is buried.”
He nodded.
Morrison immediately called for officers to secure the property.
But before we could leave, the lights went out.
The basement disappeared into darkness.
Someone had cut the power.
Morrison drew his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
A sound came from upstairs.
Glass breaking.
Then footsteps.
Fast.
Heavy.
Charles whispered, “He's here.”
“Who?”
“Liam.”
Morrison moved toward the stairs.
A gunshot cracked upstairs.
Rebecca screamed.
We dropped lower.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Morrison moved carefully.
“Stay here.”
He disappeared.
I held my breath.
Seconds passed.
Then a body struck the floor above us.
Morrison shouted.
“Police! Don't move!”
A man ran toward the back door.
Another officer tackled him.
Liam.
They dragged him into the hallway.
He was bleeding from his shoulder.
He looked at me.
“You shouldn't have come.”
I stood.
“You sent the messages.”
He smiled despite the blood.
“Some of them.”
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
I stared at him.
“You kidnapped Victor.”
“Yes.”
“You threatened me.”
“Yes.”
“Why would that keep me alive?”
“Because Julian isn't the person running Harbor.”
Charles stepped forward.
Liam looked at him.
“You knew this would happen.”
Charles didn't answer.
Liam laughed.
“You've been hiding behind dead women for years.”
Morrison restrained him.
“Enough.”
Liam looked at me again.
“Your grandmother wasn't trying to protect you from Julian.”
My stomach tightened.
“She was trying to protect you from your own family.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer.
Instead he said:
“Find the ledger.”
Morrison took him away.
The house went silent.
We restored the electricity.
Then we returned to the basement.
I looked at Charles.
“What family?”
He stared at the floor.
“My father.”
“Your father?”
Charles nodded.
“Evelyn knew him.”
“Who was he?”
Charles looked at me.
“Your grandfather.”
The words struck harder than anything else.
My grandfather had died before I was born.
I knew almost nothing about him.
Charles continued.
“He was the person who created the first Harbor account.”
I stepped back.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“My grandmother stopped him.”
“Eventually.”
“And you?”
“I helped her.”
“Then why did you disappear?”
“Because your grandfather wanted me dead.”
Morrison returned from the hallway.
“Liam is being transported.”
Then he looked at Charles.
“Do you know who attacked the property?”
“Liam came alone.”
Morrison shook his head.
“Ballistics indicate two weapons.”
Charles looked toward the ceiling.
“Then we have another visitor.”
A phone rang.
Not mine.
Rebecca's.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Nobody spoke.
Then her face changed.
“What?”
She put the call on speaker.
A man's voice came through.
“You have the wrong ledger.”
Rebecca froze.
The voice continued.
“The one you're looking for is already in federal custody.”
Morrison took the phone.
“Who is this?”
A laugh.
“Detective Morrison.”
Then the caller said:
“Ask Julian who his father really is.”
The line disconnected.
Morrison immediately contacted the federal agents.
Minutes later, the response came.
Julian had been moved.
Nobody knew where.
The transfer had happened twenty minutes earlier.
I stared at the floor.
“Someone removed him.”
Morrison nodded.
Then my phone vibrated.
A new message.
YOU WANT THE LEDGER?
COME TO THE OLD MERCER HOUSE.
ALONE.
Rebecca reached for my arm.
“Don't.”
I looked at the address.
I knew it.
My grandmother's childhood home.
The house had been abandoned for years.
The message continued.
BRING THE BRASS KEY.
Then:
YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.
I looked at Morrison.
“I won't go alone.”
“No,” he said.
“We go together.”
Charles shook his head.
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the person who sent that message knows the police are watching.”
Morrison asked, “How?”
Charles looked at the basement window.
“Because he was inside this house.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Who?”
Charles stared at me.
“Your husband.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Julian?”
“He was here yesterday.”
“Impossible.”
“He came to see me.”
“What did he want?”
Charles looked toward the wooden box.
“The same thing everyone else wants.”
“The ledger?”
“No.”
He paused.
“You.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Mercer House Was Empty When We Arrived, but My Grandmother Had Left a Message There That Exposed the Person Who Had Been Controlling Julian
At Two in the Morning, I Pretended to Sleep While My Husband Packed a Suitcase and Made One Quiet Mistake That Changed Everything
Part 6 of 10
