Chapter 10 - The Man Behind the Accident
Richard Mercer was still alive.
He was sixty-nine years old and living in an expensive retirement community outside Philadelphia.
For years, I had assumed Nathan's family had disappeared completely.
Now I learned that Richard had remained nearby.
Rachel arranged a meeting with him.
Nigel insisted on accompanying us.
I refused.
"You don't get to decide what happens next," I told him.
He stood in our kitchen, looking exhausted.
"I know."
"Then stop trying to protect me from the truth."
He swallowed.
"I'm trying to protect you from my father."
"That isn't your choice anymore."
I went with Rachel.
Richard's home was spacious, filled with expensive furniture and photographs.
When he opened the door, I recognized Nigel's gray eyes.
But Richard's expression was colder.
"Claire Whitmore," he said.
"Claire Bennett."
He smiled faintly.
"Of course."
We sat in his living room.
Rachel placed the old photograph on the coffee table.
Richard glanced at it.
Then he looked away.
"I assume my son has been talking."
"Did you order Nathan to distract me at the playground?"
Richard's smile disappeared.
"I told him to keep you occupied."
"Why?"
"Because your father was making threats."
"What threats?"
"He had documents that could have destroyed several people."
"Did my mother help you?"
Richard leaned back.
"Your mother did what she believed was necessary."
I clenched my fists.
"Did you know I would get hurt?"
He looked genuinely uncomfortable.
"No."
"Then why did Nathan push me?"
"Because he was a foolish fourteen-year-old boy trying to impress his father."
I studied his face.
Twenty years ago, I would have heard only his words.
Now I could see how carefully he chose them.
"What happened to the envelope I was carrying?"
Richard's eyes narrowed.
"What envelope?"
"The one my father gave me."
For the first time, he looked startled.
Rachel leaned forward.
"Mr. Mercer, we know there were documents involved."
Richard stood.
"This conversation is over."
I remained seated.
"Did you destroy the evidence?"
He turned toward me.
And then he said something that made my skin crawl.
"Your father should have stopped asking questions."
I slowly rose.
"What happened to my father?"
Richard said nothing.
"My father died of a heart attack."
He looked toward the window.
"That's what the doctors said."
Rachel stepped between us.
"Claire, we're leaving."
But I couldn't move.
Because for the first time, I wondered whether my father's death had been connected to the same secret that destroyed my childhood.
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And as we reached the door, Richard spoke one final sentence.
"Ask your mother why Thomas changed his will three days before he died."
