We drove back to Portland separately.
Jessica followed me.
Maya met us outside St. Vincent.
The three of us stood beneath the hospital entrance canopy while rain struck the pavement beyond it.
Maya looked at Jessica for several seconds.
“Victoria.”
“Jessica.”
“Which name do you prefer?”
Jessica glanced at me.
“Jessica.”
Maya nodded.
No judgment.
No warmth either.
“Daniel Mercer signed in yesterday at 4:08 p.m. He listed himself as a family friend.”
“What time did Dad go into surgery?” I asked.
“Approximately 4:20.”
My stomach tightened.
“He saw him?”
“I don't know yet.”
We took the elevator to intensive care.
Dad was sleeping.
A nurse confirmed that a man had briefly visited before surgery.
“Older gentleman?” I asked.
“Sixties, maybe.”
“Did he speak with Arthur?”
“For less than two minutes.”
“Were you there?”
“No. Another nurse was.”
“Do you know what they discussed?”
“No.”
Dad stirred.
His eyes opened.
Then he saw Jessica.
His entire body tensed.
The monitor accelerated.
“Get her out.”
“Dad.”
“Now.”
Jessica backed toward the door.
“I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Out.”
Maya guided Jessica into the hallway.
I stayed.
Dad glared at me.
“Why would you bring her?”
“Because I found the box.”
His anger disappeared.
“You read Elena’s letter.”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
“And the tape.”
His face tightened.
“You listened with Jessica?”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t yours to play.”
“She’s Victoria.”
“I know who she is.”
“Do you?”
His eyes opened.
“What does that mean?”
“Daniel Mercer visited you before surgery.”
Dad went completely still.
That was answer enough.
“You know he’s alive.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Years.”
I stepped away from the bed.
“Another lie.”
“A promise.”
“To whom?”
“Elena.”
The name hung between us.
“Is Mom alive?”
Dad stared at me.
“Answer me.”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You know Daniel is alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Jessica was connected to Victor.”
“Eventually.”
“You knew she might be Elena’s daughter.”
“I suspected.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was trying to prove it before destroying your life.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That strategy worked beautifully.”
Dad looked older than I had ever seen him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did Daniel know Jessica was Victoria?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he tell her?”
“Because Victor was alive.”
“He’s been dead six years.”
“Victor wasn’t the only danger.”
I remembered Jessica’s message.
Don’t trust anyone who says Victor acted alone.
“Who else?”
Dad looked toward the hallway.
“Maya.”
“She’s outside.”
“Get her.”
Maya returned without Jessica.
Dad insisted the door be closed.
“Where is she?”
“Waiting room.”
“Good.”
“Arthur,” Maya said, “what aren't you telling us?”
Dad stared at his hands.
“Victor had partners.”
“In the company?”
“In everything.”
“How many?”
“Three originally.”
“Names?”
“Victor Morales. Samuel Pike. Raymond Cole.”
Maya recognized one.
“Judge Raymond Cole?”
Dad nodded.
I stared between them.
“A judge?”
“Retired now,” Maya said.
Dad shook his head.
“Retired doesn’t mean harmless.”
“What about Samuel Pike?”
“Doctor.”
I remembered Elena’s forced medical treatment.
“The doctor who evaluated Mom?”
“One of them.”
“Alive?”
“Pike died nine years ago.”
“And Cole?”
“Alive.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“So Victor had a judge and doctor helping him.”
“And others beneath them.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
Of course.
The least complicated motive in the entire story.
Maya asked, “Where does Daniel fit?”
“He worked for Victor.”
Jessica had described Daniel as holding evidence.
“What did he do?”
“Accounting.”
Dad’s voice weakened.
“He discovered the trust fraud. He and Elena started collecting proof together.”
“And they became involved.”
Dad looked away.
That must have hurt him once.
Maybe it still did.
“Elena and I had separated briefly,” he said. “Victor had nearly broken us. She thought staying with me put Ethan in danger.”
“You weren't together when Jessica was conceived?”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“Not until later.”
There was no anger in his voice.
Only history.
“Elena returned to me before Victoria was born. She wanted us to raise both children.”
“What stopped her?”
“Victor found out.”
Dad explained that Victor had Daniel beaten and threatened to kill me if Elena tried to keep the baby.
Elena surrendered Victoria.
Daniel disappeared.
Arthur and Elena reunited.
Then the fire happened.
“And Daniel supposedly died,” I said.
“Victor wanted everyone to believe that.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel had evidence.”
“Where has he been?”
“Moving.”
“For thirty years?”
“Until Victor died.”
“Then why not come forward?”
“Cole.”
The retired judge.
“Daniel believed Cole still had enough influence to bury the case.”
Maya paced slowly.
“Maybe twenty years ago. Not now.”
“Daniel didn’t know who to trust.”
“And he trusted you?”
“Eventually.”
I leaned against the wall.
“Why did he visit yesterday?”
Dad hesitated.
“He had news.”
“What news?”
“About Elena.”
Everything stopped.
“What about her?”
Dad looked at me.
“He found a photograph.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“Of Mom?”
“A woman he believes is Elena.”
“Where?”
“California.”
“Recent?”
“Taken six weeks ago.”
My chest tightened.
“Show me.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Who does?”
“Daniel.”
“Where is Daniel?”
Dad shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Maya took out her phone.
“We have his address.”
“He won't be there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me he was leaving.”
“Why?”
“He believed someone followed him to the hospital.”
I thought of the break-in.
“Who?”
“He didn’t see.”
Dad looked at me.
“But he said they drove a black SUV.”
I remembered something.
Outside Maya’s office, before the blinds were closed, a black SUV had been parked across the street.
Maybe coincidence.
Maybe not.
I told her.
Maya’s expression changed.
“We need to leave.”
“Why?”
“If someone followed Daniel here, and someone followed you to my office—”
“They know we're together.”
She nodded.
I went into the waiting room.
Jessica was sitting alone.
“We're leaving.”
She stood.
“Where?”
“Maya’s office first.”
“No.”
“What?”
Jessica stared past me toward the elevators.
“Don't turn around.”
Every instinct told me to do exactly that.
I resisted.
“What do you see?”
“A man.”
“Who?”
“I don't know his name.”
“Then why does he matter?”
“Because he worked for my father.”
Maya emerged from Dad’s room.
Jessica whispered, “Keep walking.”
We moved toward the opposite corridor.
I heard elevator doors open behind us.
Footsteps followed.
Not running.
That somehow made them worse.
We turned a corner.
Maya led us toward a staff stairwell.
“Can we use this?”
“Today we can.”
She pushed through.
We descended one floor.
Jessica grabbed my arm.
“He used to come to our house when I was a kid.”
“What did he do?”
“I never knew.”
“Security?”
“Sometimes.”
We exited onto another floor.
Maya called hospital security.
By the time guards reached the elevators, the man was gone.
The security cameras captured him leaving through the east entrance.
He entered a black SUV.
The plate was obscured.
Jessica watched the footage with her arms wrapped around herself.
“That’s him.”
“Name?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“My father called him Mr. Grey.”
Maya and I exchanged a look.
“A nickname?” I asked.
“Probably.”
We left separately again.
This time I rode with Maya.
Jessica followed.
Halfway downtown, her car disappeared from my mirror.
I called.
No answer.
I slowed.
“Don't stop,” Maya said.
“She’s gone.”
“Call again.”
Voicemail.
Then my phone received a photograph.
Jessica had sent it.
A black SUV filled her rearview mirror.
Below it she had written:
He followed me instead. I’m taking him away from you.
I called again.
Nothing.
Then another message appeared.
Go find Daniel.
I stared through the windshield.
“She’s deliberately drawing him away.”
Maya glanced at me.
“Or making us believe she is.”
I hated that she was right.
But I hated myself more for considering it.
We continued to Daniel Mercer’s address.
Dad had been correct.
The house was empty.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, drawers had been opened and cabinets searched.
Whoever had arrived before us had been thorough.
Maya called the police.
I walked through the living room.
Photographs covered one wall.
Landscapes.
Buildings.
People I didn’t recognize.
Then I saw my father.
A photograph taken from across the street showed Dad leaving his bungalow.
Another showed me.
I was getting out of my car at work.
Another showed Jessica shopping.
Daniel had been watching all of us.
“Ethan.”
Maya stood beside a desk.
She held an envelope.
My name was written across it.
Not Dad’s handwriting.
We opened it.
Inside was a recent photograph.
An older woman sat outside a small coastal café.
Her hair was mostly silver.
She wore sunglasses.
One hand rested around a coffee cup.
I had never seen that face at that age.
Still, I knew her.
The shape of her mouth.
The curve of her cheek.
The eyes visible faintly behind the lenses.
My mother.
On the back, Daniel had written a location.
Mendocino, California.
Six weeks earlier.
Below it was another sentence.
She asked about Ethan.
I sat down.
Maya continued searching the envelope.
“There’s more.”
A folded note.
Only a few lines.
Daniel wrote that Elena had stayed hidden because the evidence against Victor’s network was incomplete. Someone still connected to the old conspiracy had spent decades tracking the surviving records.
He believed the person had recently learned about Ethan.
About Jessica.
And about the hidden documents.
The final sentence was underlined.
If anything happens to me, the person you need to identify is the one Arthur still refuses to suspect.
I read it twice.
“Maya.”
“Yes?”
“Who does Dad refuse to suspect?”
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
Jessica.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
Her breathing was ragged.
“I lost the SUV.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Industrial district somewhere east of the river.”
“Send your location.”
“I will.”
Then she said, “Ethan, I remembered his name.”
“Mr. Grey?”
“That wasn’t his real name.”
“What was it?”
“I heard my father use it once when they were arguing.”
She took a breath.
“Thomas Barrett.”
The name meant nothing to me.
Then something shifted in my memory.
Linda Barrett.
The hospital employee who had called me.
The woman who personally handed me Dad’s envelope.
The woman who knew Dad had warned me about Jessica.
I looked at Maya.
“Linda.”
“What?”
“Linda Barrett.”
Maya went pale.
Jessica heard me.
“Who’s Linda?”
“The hospital.”
I remembered Linda’s calm voice.
Her silver-framed glasses.
Her hand on my arm.
Your father has already gone into surgery.
She had known about the envelope.
She had handled it.
She knew Maya was there.
And if Thomas Barrett was connected to Victor, Linda might not merely share his surname.
Maya was already searching.
Her expression changed.
“I found Thomas Barrett.”
“And?”
“Former private investigator.”
“For Victor?”
“His company received payments from Morales Holdings for almost twenty years.”
“Linda?”
Maya searched again.
Then she looked at me.
“Thomas Barrett is her husband.”
The room seemed to contract.
Dad had warned me about Jessica.
Daniel had warned that Dad was refusing to suspect someone.
But Linda Barrett had been beside him in the hospital at the precise moment he tried to protect his secrets.
My phone vibrated with another incoming message.
Unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
Dad asleep in his hospital bed.
Taken minutes earlier.
Underneath it were six words.
You should have left the envelope closed.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: The Photograph From My Father’s Hospital Room Proved Someone Had Reached Him Before I Could Warn Anyone
My Father Had Never Asked Me for Money Until He Appeared at My Door With a Deadline
Part 8 of 35
