Chapter 2 - Sarah’s Second Life
The Westport Police Department arrived six minutes later.
By then David had made three mistakes.
The first had been striking Clara.
The second was touching papers inside Sarah’s hidden room before officers photographed the scene.
The third was calling his older brother.
Julian Mercer answered on the second ring.
“What happened?”
David stood in the driveway while paramedics checked Ethan inside the kitchen.
“Clara put Ethan in the SUV trunk.”
A pause.
“She did what?”
“Mia recorded it.”
“Jesus.”
“There’s something else.”
David looked through the open garage.
An officer was photographing Sarah’s broken bracelet.
“I found a room Sarah kept hidden from me.”
Julian became quiet.
“What kind of room?”
“Financial records. Pictures. Company names. Nearly nineteen million dollars written on a board.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“David, don’t touch anything.”
“I already did.”
Julian swore softly.
“Call Grant Keller.”
Grant was Mercer Group’s general counsel.
“No. Police are here.”
“Then especially call Grant.”
David looked through the kitchen window at Ethan.
“No.”
“David—”
“My son was locked in a trunk. I don’t give a damn what Mercer Group needs right now.”
He ended the call.
Detective Lena Ortiz approached him twenty minutes later.
She was in her forties, compact, observant, and unimpressed by wealth.
“Mr. Mercer, I’ve watched your daughter’s recording.”
David nodded.
“Then you saw what Clara did.”
“I did.”
“She needs to be arrested.”
“She is being detained.”
“Good.”
Ortiz held his gaze.
“I also saw what you did.”
David’s stomach tightened.
“I lost control.”
“You struck Ms. Voss twice.”
“She had just—”
“I understand what happened before it.”
“Do you?”
“I have children, Mr. Mercer. I understand the feeling. The law is a different question.”
Across the driveway, Clara sat in an ambulance with an ice pack against her face.
Her attorney had arrived with remarkable speed.
Too remarkable.
David recognized him.
Andrew Kessler represented executives during internal investigations.
He also happened to do substantial work for Mercer Group.
David stared.
“Why does Clara have a corporate defense lawyer?”
Ortiz followed his gaze.
“Interesting question.”
Kessler noticed David watching and quickly looked away.
David felt something shift inside him.
“Detective.”
“Yes?”
“I think whatever happened to Ethan is connected to my company.”
“That room?”
“Yes.”
“Your wife’s room.”
David looked toward the house.
“My wife is supposed to be in Boston.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Not since this morning.”
Ortiz’s expression became slightly more serious.
“We’re trying to contact her.”
Inside, Mia sat on a barstool with her phone clutched in both hands.
When David entered, she looked up.
“Is Clara going to jail?”
“For tonight, probably.”
“What about you?”
David stopped.
Mia’s eyes were red.
“For hitting her.”
He sat across from her.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“But she hurt Ethan.”
“That doesn’t make what I did okay.”
Mia studied him.
“Mom always says that.”
“What?”
“That doing something wrong because somebody else did something worse doesn’t make it right.”
The reference to Sarah hurt unexpectedly.
David reached for Mia’s hand.
She let him take it.
“Did you know about Mom’s room?”
Mia shook her head.
“But sometimes she went into the garage after we were asleep.”
“You saw her?”
“Twice.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mia frowned.
“Why would I? She’s Mom.”
That answer stayed with him.
After midnight, Ortiz allowed David to stand at the doorway while officers catalogued items.
They found six banker boxes.
A locked laptop.
Three burner phones.
Copies of vendor contracts from Mercer Group.
Property deeds.
Wire-transfer confirmations.
An audio recorder.
And a thick envelope labeled:
DAVID — ONLY IF I CANNOT EXPLAIN THIS MYSELF.
David stared at it.
“Can I open that?”
Ortiz photographed it first.
Then handed it to him.
Inside were twelve pages.
The first was not a letter.
It was a draft petition for dissolution of marriage.
Petitioner: Sarah Mercer.
Respondent: David Mercer.
David sat down hard on a folding chair.
The next document was a proposed parenting plan.
Primary residence of the minor children with Sarah.
Restricted access for David if “corporate or criminal pressure materially affects his judgment.”
His hands began trembling.
Mia appeared behind the officer at the doorway.
“Dad?”
David quickly folded the papers.
“Go upstairs, sweetheart.”
“Is Mom coming home?”
He couldn’t answer.
His phone buzzed.
Sarah.
David nearly dropped it.
A text message.
He opened it.
Do not call me. Do not call Julian. Take Mia and Ethan somewhere Julian cannot reach them.
Another message arrived.
Clara was supposed to watch the room, not hurt Ethan. Something has gone wrong.
David stared.
He typed immediately.
WHERE ARE YOU?
The reply appeared after almost a minute.
I can’t tell you.
David wrote:
I FOUND THE DIVORCE PAPERS.
No answer.
He called.
Straight to voicemail.
Detective Ortiz stepped closer.
“Mr. Mercer?”
David showed her.
Ortiz read the messages.
“Can you verify that’s your wife’s number?”
“Yes.”
“Could someone else have her phone?”
“I don’t know.”
A final message appeared.
David’s mouth went dry.
It contained only six words.
Ask Julian about Orchard Redevelopment LLC.
David immediately searched the name on his phone.
Nothing useful appeared publicly.
Then he remembered seeing it.
Inside the hidden room.
One of the shell companies connected by red string to the eighteen-million-dollar figure.
He turned back toward the corkboard.
A photograph of Julian Mercer had been pinned directly above it.
David’s older brother.
The man he had trusted since childhood.
The man he had called first.
May you like
And beside Julian’s photograph, Sarah had written two words in red ink.
CONTROLS CLARA.
