Chapter 6 - Rebecca’s Last SecretSpecial Agent Brooks took the flash drive before I could touch it again.
Paramedics boarded first.
The passenger from row twenty-one was conscious when they carried him off, which gave everyone something to feel relieved about.
Most passengers complained about the delay anyway.
Travel has a way of revealing people.
Some asked whether the sick man was okay.
Some asked whether they would miss connections.
Graham Carter asked whether the airline could arrange a private jet.
I stayed seated until the cabin crew announced we would be on the ground for at least ninety minutes.
Then my phone rang.
Priya.
I answered immediately.
“Tell me Nolan’s credentials were stolen.”
Silence.
“Priya?”
“I wish I could.”
I looked at Ivy.
She was coloring on the tray table.
“What did Adrian find?”
“Nolan accessed the Harbor Crown directory from his workstation. There’s security footage.”
My stomach sank.
“Have you spoken to him?”
“He’s gone.”
“What does gone mean?”
“His apartment is empty.”
I stood.
“When?”
“Neighbor says movers came yesterday.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Yesterday?”
“He planned this.”
“Yes.”
“Police?”
“Marcus already contacted the FBI because of the forged federal communication.”
I walked toward the galley.
“Do they know about the threat?”
“You got a threat?”
I hadn’t forwarded it.
“I’ll send it now.”
“Daniel, what did it say?”
I lowered my voice.
“It mentioned Ivy.”
Priya became silent.
Then: “Come home.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“If I come home, whoever sent it learns threats work.”
“This is not Kandahar.”
“I know exactly where I am.”
“You have your daughter.”
“That’s why I’m not panicking.”
“Taking her to Hawaii while someone threatens her isn’t exactly normal vacation parenting.”
I closed my eyes.
She was right.
I hated that.
“I’ll talk to federal agents here.”
“Good.”
“And Ivy stays with me.”
“Good.”
I ended the call.
When I turned around, Captain Hale stood behind me.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
I showed him the threat.
His expression went flat.
“Airport police.”
“I know.”
“No debate.”
“I said I know.”
He nodded.
“That’s new.”
“What?”
“You accepting help.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He almost smiled.
By the time passengers were allowed into the terminal, two plainclothes officers were waiting at Gate 42.
One introduced herself as Special Agent Lena Brooks.
FBI.
Late thirties.
Dark suit.
No wasted movement.
The other man, Agent Javier Ruiz, carried an expression that looked permanently skeptical.
Brooks shook my hand.
“Mr. Mercer, we spoke with your attorney.”
I nodded toward Ivy.
“Not in front of her.”
“Of course.”
Captain Hale arranged for Grace to stay nearby while Ivy ate ice cream in the airline lounge.
I didn’t love leaving her out of arm’s reach.
But there were armed federal agents standing twenty feet away.
That helped.
Brooks led me into a small conference room.
“Walk me through everything.”
I did.
The compromised files.
The forged email.
Nolan.
Graham’s conversation.
The threat.
Ruiz took notes.
Brooks barely moved.
When I finished, she asked, “Why would your wife’s files matter?”
“I don’t know.”
“What files did she have?”
“Medical records. Family photos. Financial documents.”
“Did she work with you?”
“No. She was a public-interest attorney.”
Brooks glanced at Ruiz.
“What kind?”
“Construction injuries, worker compensation, corporate negligence.”
That changed the room.
“When did she die?”
“Three years ago.”
“What kind of cancer?”
“Pancreatic.”
“Did she handle cases involving Carter Development?”
I stopped.
“I don’t know.”
“You never discussed her clients?”
“Not confidential ones.”
“Did she keep physical case files at home?”
“Sometimes.”
“What happened to them after she died?”
“Her firm collected everything.”
Brooks folded her hands.
“The threat specifically says ‘what happened to your wife’s files.’ That suggests the sender believes something happened to them.”
I thought back.
After Rebecca died, I had emptied her office in stages.
I remembered banker boxes.
Old binders.
A locked filing cabinet.
Then something else.
“Wait.”
Brooks leaned forward.
“What?”
“About six months before Rebecca was diagnosed, our house was burglarized.”
“What was taken?”
“Laptop. Jewelry. Camera.”
“Files?”
“I don’t know.”
“Police report?”
“Yes.”
Ruiz was already typing.
Brooks asked, “Anything unusual?”
I almost said no.
Then remembered Rebecca’s reaction.
She had walked straight past the missing television and into her office.
Opened drawers.
Checked the cabinet.
Then stood there for a long time.
I had asked what was wrong.
She said nothing important was missing.
“What are you remembering?” Brooks asked.
“She wasn’t worried about jewelry.”
Brooks waited.
“She checked her files first.”
“Did she tell you why?”
“No.”
Agent Ruiz turned his laptop.
“I found the burglary report. June 11, three years and nine months ago.”
He scanned it.
“Responding officer noted forced rear entry. Electronics taken. No suspects.”
Brooks asked, “When did your wife become ill?”
“About nine months later.”
“And did she ever mention Carter Development?”
I stared at the table.
A memory surfaced.
Rebecca at dinner.
Ivy two years old, throwing peas.
Rebecca saying, You know what scares me about corporations? Not the ones that break rules. The ones powerful enough to convince everyone the rules were never broken.
I hadn’t asked what she meant.
Another memory.
Rebecca shredding papers.
Another.
A black SUV parked across from our house two nights in a row.
I had assumed neighbors had guests.
“I don’t know,” I said.
Brooks closed her notebook.
“We’ll coordinate with Seattle.”
“What happens to Graham?”
“We speak with him.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he sent the threat?”
“I think assuming anything before collecting evidence is how investigations get ruined.”
I respected that answer.
We stepped back into the lounge.
Ivy saw me and ran over.
“Dad! They have gummy bears for ice cream.”
“Civilization has peaked.”
She grabbed my hand.
Then she whispered, “The mean man is yelling.”
Across the lounge, Graham Carter was on the phone near the windows.
Agent Brooks followed my gaze.
“Stay here.”
She and Ruiz approached him.
We couldn’t hear everything.
But we saw his reaction when they showed credentials.
Shock.
Then anger.
Then calculation.
His wife stood ten feet away.
Her face lost color.
After several minutes, she walked away from Graham and sat alone near a charging station.
Ivy pulled at my sleeve.
“Can we still go to Hawaii?”
I crouched.
“I’m trying.”
“Did I do something?”
The question broke me.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Then why is everybody upset?”
I looked at her small face.
Rebecca’s eyes.
My stubborn chin.
“Sometimes adults make bad choices and other adults have to fix them.”
“Like when I spilled paint on the carpet?”
“Bigger.”
“How bigger?”
“Like spilling paint on the whole house.”
She nodded.
“That’s very bad.”
“Yes.”
Captain Hale joined us.
“We’ve been cleared to continue in forty minutes.”
I looked toward Brooks.
She was still questioning Graham.
“Will he be aboard?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“The airline decided his conduct warrants rebooking.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“The airline decided?”
Hale’s mouth twitched.
“I may have expressed an operational preference.”
“Tom.”
“I’m captain.”
“You’re abusing power.”
“I prefer strategic seat management.”
For the first time all day, I laughed.
Then a woman spoke behind me.
“Mr. Mercer?”
I turned.
Graham’s wife stood there.
Up close, she looked exhausted.
Not wealthy.
Not polished.
Just tired.
“My name is Allison Carter.”
“I know.”
Her eyes moved toward the agents, then back.
“I need to tell you something before my husband sees me.”
Ivy was beside me.
I looked at Hale.
He understood.
“Ivy, want to see the pilots’ lounge snack machine?”
Her eyes lit up.
“Yes.”
“Stay with Captain Hale.”
“I will.”
Once they left, Allison stepped closer.
“My husband didn’t send that threat.”
“You don’t know what threat I received.”
“I heard Agent Brooks ask him.”
I said nothing.
Allison’s hands trembled.
“Graham is arrogant. He’s controlling. He’s done things I’m ashamed of.”
“That’s between you and him.”
“No.”
She looked directly at me.
“Not anymore.”
Then she reached into her handbag and handed me a tiny silver flash drive.
“What is this?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Then why give it to me?”
“Because Nolan Pierce gave it to my husband two nights ago.”
My pulse jumped.
“You know Nolan?”
“I saw him at our house.”
“Doing what?”
“Arguing.”
“With Graham?”
“Yes.”
“About?”
“I couldn’t hear everything.”
She glanced toward the window.
“But I heard your wife’s name.”
The terminal seemed to disappear around me.
“What did he say?”
Allison swallowed.
“He said, ‘Rebecca Mercer already found the original documents once.’”
My mouth went dry.
“What documents?”
“I don’t know.”
She shook her head.
“But Graham said something I’ve been hearing in my sleep ever since.”
“What?”
May you like
Her eyes filled.
“He said, ‘Then you should have made sure her husband never found out.’”
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