Chapter 5 - My Husband’s Second Family
Rebecca’s hands shook as she spoke.
“Julian isn’t his real name.”
“I know.”
“Daniel Mercer isn’t either.”
That surprised me.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were married to him.”
“I thought I knew.”
Rebecca looked toward the broken stained-glass windows.
“His identity changed before I met him.”
She told me Northstar had begun as a legitimate wealth-management company.
Daniel—Julian—was one of the executives.
Rebecca worked as a medical consultant for several wealthy clients who needed private care.
They married quickly.
Emily was Rebecca’s daughter from an earlier relationship.
Julian adopted her informally but never legally.
“He loved her,” Rebecca said.
I didn’t want to hear that.
“I don’t care.”
“You need to understand him.”
“No. I need to stop him.”
Her expression tightened.
“Then understand him.”
Northstar discovered a profitable pattern.
Wealthy clients.
Large insurance policies.
Complicated estates.
People with few relatives.
Some died naturally.
Others did not.
“At first, Julian only moved money afterward,” Rebecca said. “He told himself he wasn’t responsible.”
“And later?”
“He stopped pretending.”
The operation involved forged medical histories, manipulated policies and staged deaths.
Rebecca admitted she altered records.
Then Emily became sick.
Leukemia.
Aggressive.
Northstar’s founder promised to pay for experimental treatment overseas if Rebecca cooperated one more time.
She did.
The target was a businessman named Thomas Kellerman.
Rebecca adjusted his medication records.
Julian handled finances.
Kellerman died.
They were paid.
But Emily died anyway.
Rebecca broke down.
“I wanted to confess.”
“What stopped you?”
“Julian.”
“He threatened you?”
“No.”
Her answer shocked me.
“He protected me.”
After Emily’s funeral, Northstar’s founder decided Rebecca had become a liability.
Julian arranged her fake death.
Insurance money created a trail designed to make everyone believe she was gone.
Rebecca disappeared.
Eventually, Julian disappeared too.
“Why did you come back?”
“I never really left.”
She looked at me.
“Julian needed someone who understood medications.”
“You helped him.”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“I kept changing dosages.”
“What?”
“The syringe you saw contained a sedative. But not enough to kill you.”
“You knew he was coming?”
“Yes.”
“And you let him?”
“I needed him to believe I was cooperating.”
My rage erupted.
“You could have warned me!”
“I tried.”
“My son warned me.”
“Because I sent him the synchronization alert.”
Silence.
Caleb’s computer hadn’t found Julian’s files accidentally.
Rebecca had triggered the sync.
“Why Caleb?”
“Because Julian monitors your email and phone.”
I felt sick.
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Clara, he has access to almost everything.”
“Who is directing him?”
Her expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try.”
“The founder of Northstar.”
“Who?”
She told me the name.
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because my mind rejected it.
“That’s impossible.”
“I wish it were.”
The founder of Northstar Legacy Partners—the person Rebecca claimed had orchestrated the deaths—was someone I had known since childhood.
Someone who attended my wedding.
Someone who stood beside me at my father’s funeral.
Someone who had just helped me open Dad’s secret letter.
Miriam Cole.
“No.”
Rebecca slid documents across the pew.
Old incorporation records.
Hidden ownership structures.
A signature.
Miriam E. Cole.
“She used a holding company,” Rebecca said. “Your father discovered it.”
I stared at Miriam’s signature.
“But she showed me Dad’s letter.”
“Because she needs you to find whatever your father hid.”
The vault.
The ledger.
I hadn’t told Miriam exactly where it was.
Thank God.
“Why would she help me?”
“To make you lead her to the evidence.”
Everything rearranged itself.
Her immediate recognition of Northstar.
Her knowledge of the deaths.
Her insistence on accessing my father’s files.
Rebecca whispered, “Julian is dangerous. But Miriam built the machine.”
I stood.
“I need Caleb.”
“Yes.”
“And the police.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Northstar paid people everywhere.”
“That was thirteen years ago.”
“Money lasts.”
I thought of Aaron.
Miriam recommended him.
My stomach dropped.
“Is Aaron involved?”
“I don’t know.”
I left the church and called Caleb.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
I called Aaron.
Straight to voicemail.
I called Caleb’s university.
His roommate answered after administrators transferred me.
“Mrs. Vale?”
“Where is Caleb?”
“I thought he went home.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“His dad called. Said there was a family emergency.”
I hung up.
Julian had called him.
I dialed Caleb again.
This time someone answered.
No one spoke.
“Caleb?”
Silence.
Then breathing.
“Caleb?”
A male voice said:
“You should have taken the trip to Lake Erie, Clara.”
Julian.
I gripped the steering wheel.
“Where is my son?”
“He’s fine.”
“Let me hear him.”
A pause.
Then Caleb’s voice.
“Mom, don’t—”
The line cut.
I screamed.
Rebecca grabbed my shoulder.
“Listen to me.”
“He has Caleb!”
“I know.”
“I’m calling police.”
“You can. But Julian wants something.”
“The documents.”
“Yes.”
“What documents?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Proof Miriam ordered Emily’s death.”
I stared at her.
“You said leukemia killed Emily.”
“It did.”
“Then how—”
“The treatment money disappeared.”
Rebecca’s voice cracked.
“Miriam stole it to cover a Northstar loss.”
The pieces became uglier.
Emily might have had a chance.
Northstar took that chance.
Julian knew.
Rebecca knew.
My father apparently discovered it.
My phone rang again.
Julian.
“Bring me what your father hid.”
“Where?”
He gave me an address.
Then he said, “Come alone.”
“If you hurt Caleb—”
“I won’t.”
“You came into our bedroom with a syringe.”
Silence.
Then Julian said something I never expected.
“I wasn’t there to kill you.”
“What?”
“I was there to make Miriam think I had.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Rebecca whispered, “He’s lying.”
Maybe.
But one question wouldn’t leave me.
If Julian had planned to kill me that night, why had he returned twenty minutes later after discovering the bed empty?
And why had he brought documents with my name on them?
May you like
For the first time, I wondered whether the syringe had been intended for me at all.
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