PART 30 — DANIEL CROSS DIDN’T EXIST
Thomas didn’t plug in the flash drive.
Not immediately.
He placed it inside a clear evidence envelope from his briefcase.
Alicia stared at it.
“What is Daniel’s real name?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Carol snapped, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Alicia turned toward her.
“You knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That Cross wasn’t his real name.”
Carol’s silence answered.
Thomas looked at her.
“What name did he give you?”
Carol picked up her purse.
“I think I need an attorney.”
“For once,” Thomas said, “that’s an excellent idea.”
She glared at him.
Then left.
Nobody stopped her.
Melissa left shortly afterward with David from Silver Meadows.
But not before Thomas obtained her contact information and told her to preserve every message involving Carol, Alicia, or Daniel.
Then only Alicia remained.
Mark was still on speaker.
I looked at her.
“How did you meet Daniel?”
“Through Bruce.”
That surprised me.
“Bruce introduced you?”
“Not exactly.”
She rubbed her hands together.
“Three years ago, after Mom told me about Grandpa Frank, I started searching online for information about the land.”
Mark’s voice came through the phone.
“Three years.”
“Yes.”
“You were investigating my family for three years while sleeping beside me?”
Alicia closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
That single word hurt him.
I could hear it.
She continued.
“About eight months ago, Daniel contacted me.”
“How?”
“Email.”
“He knew about the land?”
“Yes.”
“He said he represented investors interested in old undeveloped parcels.”
Thomas asked:
“And you trusted him?”
“Not at first.”
“What changed?”
“He knew things.”
“What things?”
“Walter. Frank. Raymond. The old transactions.”
I understood.
Daniel hadn’t stumbled onto this story.
He had studied it.
Then Thomas took the flash drive to his office computer.
He disconnected the machine from the network before opening anything.
There were six folders.
HARPER
BENNETT
COLE
ELLIS
BENTON
And one labeled:
DC
Thomas opened DC.
Photographs.
Driver’s licenses.
Corporate filings.
Names.
Lots of names.
Daniel Cross.
Daniel Carter.
David Crossman.
D. C. Holdings.
Then Thomas stopped.
“That’s him.”
A photograph showed the man who had stood outside Mark’s house with Carol.
Beside it was an older photograph.
Same face.
Different name.
Daniel Mercer.
Alicia covered her mouth.
“You know him?” I asked.
“No.”
Thomas did.
His expression told me.
“Thomas?”
He enlarged a document.
“Raymond hired a Daniel Mercer twenty-seven years ago.”
My heart tightened.
“For what?”
“To research the Harper land.”
The room went silent.
I stared at the photograph.
Daniel hadn’t learned about Raymond from Alicia.
He’d known Raymond before Alicia ever entered our family.
Thomas searched Raymond’s archived file.
Then found an invoice.
Mercer Investigative Services.
Mark whispered through the phone:
“Why would Dad hire him?”
Thomas kept reading.
“To locate descendants of the Bennett, Cole, and Ellis families.”
I looked at Alicia.
She looked as confused as I felt.
“So Daniel knew Carol?”
“Possibly for decades.”
Then Thomas found another letter.
This one from Raymond.
Mr. Mercer, your services are terminated effective immediately. Do not contact my family again.
My stomach dropped.
“Why did Raymond fire him?”
Thomas turned the page.
There was one handwritten note beneath the letter.
Raymond’s writing.
Mercer tried to buy the claims himself. Do not trust him.
Everything became quiet.
Daniel hadn’t returned because Carol found the land.
Daniel had been waiting for the land to become valuable enough.
Maybe for years.
Thomas opened the HARPER folder on the flash drive.
Inside were photographs of my house.
My car.
Mark’s house.
Alicia leaving work.
Even Thomas entering his office.
Then I saw one photograph that made me stop breathing.
Me.
Standing beside Raymond’s grave.
Taken from a distance.
The date was six months ago.
Before Alicia claimed Daniel had contacted her.
“He was watching me.”
Thomas didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Then he opened a spreadsheet.
Dates.
Names.
Payments.
Five thousand to Melissa.
Money to Bruce.
Transfers involving Carol.
And several payments Alicia hadn’t mentioned.
Mark’s voice came sharply through the phone.
“How much did Alicia get?”
Thomas scanned the entries.
Then looked at her.
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
Mark went silent.
Alicia began shaking her head.
“That wasn’t payment.”
“What was it?” I asked.
“A loan.”
“For what?”
She didn’t answer.
Mark did.
“The college fund.”
Alicia started crying.
Daniel hadn’t merely discovered her greed.
He had financed it.
Then Thomas reached the final entry.
Scheduled for Monday.
Tomorrow.
FINAL DISBURSEMENT — $300,000.
Recipient:
A. HARPER
Mark whispered:
“Me?”
Thomas looked carefully.
“No.”
He turned toward Alicia.
“Alicia Harper.”
Her face went white.
“I didn’t know.”
I believed her this time.
Because beneath the payment was a note.
Upon successful trustee removal.
My removal.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
Thomas closed the spreadsheet.
Then another file caught my eye.
DOROTHY — CONTINGENCY.
“Open that.”
Thomas hesitated.
“Dorothy—”
“Open it.”
Inside was a one-page plan.
Most of it concerned legal filings.
Capacity documents.
Emergency petitions.
Trustee replacement.
But the final line was different.
If voluntary placement fails, initiate Monday contingency through Mark.
My stomach tightened.
Mark heard it.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas didn’t know.
Neither did I.
Then Alicia whispered:
“I do.”
We all looked at her.
She was crying again.
But this time she wasn’t looking at me.
She was looking at Mark’s name glowing on my phone.
“Daniel told me there was one thing Mark would always believe.”
My son went silent.
“What?”
Alicia covered her mouth.
Then said:
“That Dorothy was sick.”
I felt cold.
Mark whispered:
“What are you talking about?”
Alicia looked at me.
“The Monday contingency wasn’t about convincing Dorothy she needed help.”
She shook her head.
“It was about convincing Mark that she did.”
