Chapter 3 - The Man Who Was Always There
Richard took Cooper to Massachusetts Veterinary Referral Hospital before he did anything else.
The dog's injuries were painful but survivable.
Two cracked ribs.
A badly bruised hind leg.
Dehydration.
A shallow cut along the right flank.
The veterinarian told Richard that exposure had been the greater danger.
“If whoever found him hadn't kept him warm,” she said, “we might be having a different conversation.”
Richard stood beside the treatment table and thought about Anna giving up half her coat.
By two in the morning, Cooper was sedated and stable.
Richard should have gone home.
Instead he sat alone in the waiting area staring at the locket in his memory.
Elizabeth's locket.
Anna Brooks.
I tried to warn her.
At three twelve in the morning, Richard called his chief of staff.
Martin Hale answered on the second ring.
“Richard?”
“I need you to find someone.”
Silence.
Martin had worked for Richard almost fifteen years. He was used to unusual calls, but not many at three in the morning.
“Who?”
“Anna Brooks. Forty-two. Maybe forty-one or forty-three. She knew Elizabeth.”
That woke Martin fully.
“In what context?”
“I don't know.”
“You want employment records?”
“Everything.”
Richard heard sheets moving on the other end.
“Do you have anything else?”
“She may have worked for Elizabeth.”
A longer silence.
Richard noticed it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Martin.”
“I'll look.”
Richard's grip tightened around the phone.
“You recognize the name.”
“No.”
Too fast.
Richard stood.
“Don't lie to me.”
Martin sighed.
“Richard, it sounds familiar. That's all.”
“From where?”
“I don't remember.”
Richard ended the call.
He did not sleep.
At eight in the morning he drove back to the bridge.
Anna was gone.
So were the cardboard boxes.
Only a flattened pharmacy receipt remained beneath the concrete ledge.
Richard picked it up.
Twenty-eight dollars and sixty-three cents.
Antibiotic.
Pain medication.
A small packet of gauze.
The receipt had been paid in cash.
Richard folded it and put it in his pocket.
By noon, Martin called.
“Found her.”
Richard was in his study with Cooper asleep beside the fireplace.
“Talk.”
“Anna Louise Brooks. Forty-two. Former corporate communications specialist. Master's degree from Northwestern. Worked for three companies before joining the Vaughn Foundation nine years ago.”
Richard straightened.
“The foundation?”
“Yes.”
Richard's wife had run the Vaughn Foundation.
Education grants.
Women's shelters.
Community health programs.
Elizabeth had treated it as her real work while Richard built companies.
“What position?”
“Director of donor communications.”
Richard stared at the fire.
“That was senior.”
“Pretty senior.”
“How long?”
“Just under two years.”
“Why did she leave?”
Martin hesitated.
“Termination.”
“For what?”
“Misconduct.”
Richard looked at Cooper.
“What kind?”
“According to the record, unauthorized access to confidential correspondence, harassment of another employee, and attempts to improperly influence Mrs. Vaughn.”
Richard said nothing.
It sounded ridiculous.
“Who signed the termination?”
Another pause.
“Daniel Mercer.”
Richard closed his eyes.
Daniel.
There were few names more deeply woven into his adult life.
Daniel Mercer had been Richard's college roommate.
Later his attorney.
Then general counsel for Vaughn Holdings.
He had been best man at Richard's wedding.
Elizabeth had called him Uncle Daniel around their nieces and nephews.
He had stood beside Richard at Elizabeth's funeral.
“What does Daniel have to do with foundation staff?”
“At the time, he was also overseeing compliance.”
Richard remembered.
Barely.
A restructuring.
An internal review after a grant-management scandal at one of the foundation's partner charities.
“Did Elizabeth approve Anna's termination?”
“The file says yes.”
“Signed?”
“Digitally.”
Richard looked toward the window.
Boston was buried under fresh snow.
“Where is Anna now?”
“That's harder.”
“You found her employment history. Find her.”
“Richard—”
“Find her.”
Martin exhaled.
“There's more.”
Richard waited.
“After leaving the foundation, she worked at a nonprofit in Providence for four months. Then she was dismissed during probation.”
“Why?”
“Reference concerns.”
Richard's expression hardened.
“From whom?”
“Unclear.”
“Keep going.”
“Freelance work for a while. Then debt. Eviction record three years ago. Another eviction eighteen months later. Her mother died around that time. After that, records get thin.”
Richard sat back.
A highly educated director at his wife's foundation had somehow gone from earning close to six figures to sleeping beneath a bridge.
That did not happen because of one bad reference.
At least, not usually.
“What happened to her family?”
“Father deceased. No spouse. No children listed.”
Richard remembered Anna's face when he offered the reward.
So could a lot of things.
“Find her.”
Martin did.
That afternoon, Anna walked into the Boston Public Library to get warm.
Richard was waiting near the entrance to the reading room.
She saw him immediately.
Her expression became annoyed rather than surprised.
“You had me followed?”
“I had you found.”
“That's the rich-person version of the same thing.”
Richard held out a paper cup.
“Coffee.”
“No.”
“Tea.”
“No.”
“It's twelve degrees.”
“I can read weather apps.”
Richard almost smiled again.
Anna did that to him.
She had a way of making his wealth sound like a minor personality defect.
“How's Cooper?” she asked.
“Stable.”
Her face softened.
“Good.”
“He'll recover.”
“Good.”
Richard studied her.
“Why did you work for my wife?”
Anna looked around.
People passed between them carrying books and laptops.
“You really don't remember me.”
“No.”
“That figures.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you came to the foundation gala twice a year, shook hands, gave a speech, kissed Elizabeth, and left.”
Richard did not like how accurate that sounded.
Anna walked toward a quiet corner.
Richard followed.
“You were fired.”
She stopped.
“So you've been digging.”
“The record says you harassed another employee.”
Anna laughed.
Not happily.
“Of course it does.”
“It says Elizabeth approved your termination.”
Anna's smile vanished.
“She didn't.”
“There's a digital signature.”
“Then the signature was added.”
Richard felt irritation rise.
“That is a serious accusation.”
“I know.”
“You're accusing Daniel Mercer of falsifying—”
Anna's eyes snapped to his.
“I never said Daniel's name.”
Silence.
Richard realized what he had done.
Anna turned away.
He caught up.
“You said you tried to warn Elizabeth.”
“Yes.”
“About Daniel?”
Anna kept walking.
“Anna.”
She stopped beside a tall window overlooking Copley Square.
Snow swirled against the glass.
“You loved your wife?” she asked.
Richard almost took offense.
“Yes.”
“Did you trust her?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you notice she was scared?”
The question struck somewhere deep.
Richard's voice became quiet.
“She wasn't.”
Anna looked at him.
“She was.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She had anxiety after her diagnosis.”
Anna frowned.
“What diagnosis?”
Richard stared at her.
“Her heart condition.”
Anna said nothing.
Richard felt something shift.
Elizabeth had been diagnosed with a rare cardiac arrhythmia ten months before her death.
She had collapsed twice.
Doctors warned that stress could be dangerous.
She died after suffering a cardiac event at home.
Anna looked genuinely confused.
“When did they say she had a heart condition?”
Richard's mouth went dry.
“You worked for her.”
“I was fired fourteen months before she died.”
Richard processed that.
Anna reached beneath her sweater and removed the locket.
She held it in her palm.
“Elizabeth gave me this the night before I was fired.”
“Why?”
“She said if anything happened to her, I should keep it until I knew who I could trust.”
Richard stared at the silver oval.
“What's inside?”
“Nothing.”
“Open it.”
Anna did.
Empty.
Richard touched the tiny hinge.
He remembered placing a photograph inside it decades ago.
A picture of himself and Elizabeth in Florence.
“Why would she give you this?”
Anna closed the locket.
“Because she knew they were watching her.”
“Who?”
Anna glanced around the library.
For the first time, Richard saw genuine fear beneath her stubbornness.
“I don't know how many.”
“You expect me to believe this?”
“No.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because your dog found me.”
Richard frowned.
Anna looked down at the locket.
“And because Elizabeth always said Cooper had better judgment than the rest of you.”
Richard nearly laughed.
Elizabeth had said exactly that.
Many times.
Something cold moved through him that had nothing to do with Boston.
Anna reached into her bag.
She removed an old folded envelope.
Richard saw his name written across the front.
RICHARD.
The handwriting was Elizabeth's.
He recognized the long slash through the final D.
His hand reached for it.
Anna pulled it back.
“What is that?”
“A message.”
“From Elizabeth?”
“Yes.”
Richard felt his pulse hammer.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
His disbelief turned instantly to anger.
“Anna.”
“You're not ready.”
“My wife wrote my name on that envelope.”
“And she told me not to give it to you unless I was certain.”
“Certain of what?”
Anna's eyes met his.
“That Daniel Mercer no longer controlled what you believed.”
Richard stood perfectly still.
Outside, the snow kept falling.
Inside his coat, his phone began to ring.
He looked at the screen.
May you like
Daniel Mercer.
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