Chapter 4 - A Letter That Never Reached Home
By dawn, the mansion had become a fortress.
Grant doubled Sophie’s security without explaining why.
Daniel Reeve assigned two guards to the hallway outside her room.
No one entered or left the property without authorization.
Grant canceled every meeting.
Owen called six times.
Grant answered none.
At seven, Sophie came downstairs carrying her teddy bear and wearing her school uniform.
“I’m ready.”
Grant looked at her.
“You’re staying home.”
“But I have art.”
“You can miss one day.”
“My project is there.”
“Sophie.”
She crossed her arms.
“That means something bad happened.”
Grant glanced at Nora.
His daughter was too perceptive.
“We’re having a family day.”
“We never have family days on Friday.”
The statement hurt more than she intended.
Grant had spent years searching for Mara while convincing himself that everything else could wait.
Sophie had been waiting too.
He crouched.
“You’re right.”
She seemed surprised.
“I haven’t been around enough.”
Her eyes softened.
“But today I need you here.”
“Because somebody took my picture?”
Grant froze.
Nora looked guilty.
“Sophie—”
“I heard the guards talking.”
Grant closed his eyes.
Of course.
He took her hands.
“Yes.”
“Is it because of Mommy?”
“I think so.”
Sophie looked frightened.
“But we’re going to figure it out.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Can Nora stay with me?”
Grant glanced toward Nora.
“Yes.”
After Sophie left, Grant summoned Daniel.
“I want the security archives from the night Mara disappeared.”
Daniel frowned.
“Five years ago?”
“Yes.”
“We changed vendors twice.”
“Find them.”
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t try.”
Daniel understood.
“Understood.”
“And tell no one.”
“Not Owen?”
“Especially not Owen.”
Daniel’s expression barely changed, but Grant noticed.
“You have a problem with that?”
“No, sir.”
“You looked surprised.”
“Owen has had access to nearly every security matter since Mrs. Mercer disappeared.”
“That changes now.”
Daniel nodded.
Grant watched him leave.
Nora stood in the doorway.
“You trust him?”
“More than you.”
“That’s fair.”
Grant studied her.
“But less than yesterday.”
That afternoon, Nora brought Grant an old envelope.
“I should have given you this last night.”
Grant stared at it.
“You’re developing a habit of withholding things.”
“I know.”
The envelope was addressed to him.
Mara’s handwriting.
Grant’s heart hammered.
The stamp was almost three years old.
“It was returned.”
He turned it over.
A postal label read:
UNDELIVERABLE — RECIPIENT ADDRESS ERROR
Grant frowned.
“This is Mercer Tower.”
“I know.”
“That address hasn’t changed in thirty years.”
“Mara mailed it from Maine.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“When it came back, she thought someone had intercepted it.”
Grant opened it carefully.
The letter inside was six pages.
He read.
Grant,
If this reaches you, please forgive me for not coming home myself. I tried once. Somebody found me within hours. I don’t know who is safe anymore.
His hands shook.
He continued.
Mara described fragmented memories.
A meeting at the foundation.
Financial irregularities.
A folder she had taken home.
A conversation overheard between two men.
One phrase appeared twice.
Project Harbor.
Grant looked up.
“Nora, have you heard that before?”
“No.”
He kept reading.
I remember telling someone I would show you everything the next morning. I remember being afraid. I remember getting into a car because I believed the driver was someone we trusted.
Then:
The last clear thing I remember before waking somewhere unfamiliar is Owen telling me not to make a mistake I couldn’t undo.
Grant stopped.
Nora watched him.
“What?”
He handed her the page.
She read it.
The office door opened.
Grant spun around.
Daniel entered holding a hard drive.
“I found the old archive.”
Grant immediately folded the letter.
“Anything?”
“Maybe.”
Daniel connected the drive to Grant’s private computer.
Security footage appeared.
The night Mara disappeared.
10:03 p.m.
Mara entered the downstairs study.
10:19.
She exited carrying a folder.
10:22.
She passed the east hallway.
Then the footage jumped.
10:22 became 10:57.
Grant leaned forward.
“Thirty-five minutes missing.”
Daniel nodded.
“Metadata says edited.”
“By whom?”
“Administrative account.”
“Which one?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Your account.”
Grant stared at him.
“I didn’t edit it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“You were in Washington that night.”
Grant remembered.
A Senate finance dinner.
He had flown home after Mara stopped answering.
“Someone used my credentials.”
“Yes.”
“Can you determine where?”
“I’m working on it.”
Nora moved closer to the screen.
“What happens at 10:57?”
Mara appeared again.
This time she wasn’t carrying the folder.
A man walked behind her.
Only his shoulder appeared before the footage cut.
Grant paused the image.
Charcoal suit.
Silver cuff link.
He zoomed in.
A symbol was engraved on the cuff link.
A small compass.
Grant’s face changed.
Nora noticed.
“You know it?”
“Mercer Founders Club.”
“What is that?”
“Custom cuff links made for six executives when we took the company public.”
“Who has them?”
Grant began listing.
“My father had a pair. Mine. Owen. Victor Hale. Stephen Cole. And…”
He stopped.
“And?”
“Elias Mercer.”
“Who is Elias?”
“My uncle.”
Nora frowned.
“Is he involved in the company?”
“He was.”
“What happened?”
“He died three years ago.”
Grant enlarged the cuff link.
Six possible owners.
One supposedly dead.
Daniel examined the metadata.
“I found something else.”
“What?”
“The footage was modified at 10:41 p.m.”
Grant waited.
“The login originated inside this house.”
Nora whispered, “While Mara was still here.”
Daniel nodded.
Grant stared at the screen.
“Can you identify the device?”
“Working on it.”
Grant’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He almost ignored it.
Then Nora said, “Answer.”
Grant activated speakerphone.
Silence.
“Hello?”
Static.
Then breathing.
A woman.
Grant’s heart stopped.
“Who is this?”
Nothing.
“Mara?”
The breathing hitched.
Nora covered her mouth.
Grant stood.
“Mara, if that’s you, say something.”
A whisper came through.
“Grant?”
His knees almost gave way.
Five years disappeared in one syllable.
“Mara.”
A sob.
Then she said quickly, “Don’t trust Owen.”
The line went dead.
Grant stared at the phone.
Daniel immediately traced the call.
“Burner number.”
“Location?”
“Give me a minute.”
Grant gripped the desk.
Nora had tears in her eyes.
“That was her.”
He nodded.
He knew Mara’s voice.
Time could damage it.
Fear could weaken it.
But he knew.
Daniel looked up.
“I have a tower location.”
“Where?”
He turned the monitor.
Port Haven, Maine.
Nora went white.
Grant grabbed his jacket.
“We’re going.”
But before he reached the door, his phone buzzed with a text from Owen.
We need to talk about Nora before you make a terrible mistake.
Attached was a police report.
Grant opened it.
Nora Ellis.
Arrested three years ago.
Charge:
Identity theft and financial fraud.
Grant slowly raised his eyes.
Nora was already staring at the screen.
May you like
And for the first time since she had sung Mara’s lullaby, she looked truly afraid of Grant.
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