Chapter 4 - THE WATCH ON JULIAN'S WRIST
My watch mattered more than I realized.
It was a black Omega my father gave me when I made captain.
I had left it locked in the office safe because I never took it overseas.
Julian wore it the day I came home.
At first, it felt like insult.
Then Rachel asked:
“Why was it in the safe?”
“Sentimental.”
“Anything else stored there?”
I thought.
Property deeds.
Old corporate records.
My father's papers.
Then I remembered.
The watch box.
My father hid something in it.
A joke, almost.
Before he died, he told me:
“If you ever become as arrogant as your brother, open the bottom.”
I had assumed it was a letter.
I never opened it.
The original watch box was gone.
Julian had the watch.
But maybe not the box.
We returned home carefully.
Police wanted evidence preserved.
We still had no arrests because warrants were being prepared.
Victoria believed Maya had a medical appointment.
Julian believed I was visiting my unit office.
When we entered, Victoria was out.
Julian at the gym.
Maya took me to the office.
The safe was open.
Of course.
No watch box.
I searched.
Nothing.
Then Maya said:
“Garage.”
“Why?”
“Julian throws boxes there.”
We found it beneath holiday decorations.
Crushed.
Empty.
But the velvet base was still attached.
I pulled it.
A sealed envelope.
My father's handwriting.
DANIEL ONLY.
Inside:
Corporate share certificate.
Ten percent of Mercer Freight's predecessor company.
Not mine.
Maya's.
I stared.
“What?”
My father had quietly purchased founding shares when Maya and I started the company.
He later assigned them directly to Maya.
Not to me.
Never recorded publicly because we reorganized the company shortly afterward.
But the accompanying trust declaration was notarized and valid.
Maya owned a separate interest Julian had not discovered.
Why did that matter?
Because Julian's takeover documents claimed 100 percent transfer of voting control based on my supposed authority.
He could not transfer shares that weren't mine.
Rachel examined everything.
“This could invalidate parts of the corporate restructuring independently of the forged power of attorney.”
Maya touched the paper.
“Your father did this?”
I nodded.
He adored her.
Called her “the only Mercer with business sense.”
Then I found the letter beneath the share certificate.
Daniel,
Julian thinks being born into a family means the family owes him a future. It doesn't. Watch that in him. Watch it in yourself too.
I sat down.
My father had seen it years ago.
Maya helped build the company. I bought these shares because I want her to have something no Mercer man can vote away from her.
Maya started crying.
I kept reading.
If I am wrong about Julian, good. Burn this and laugh at me. If I am right, paperwork is less satisfying than a fist but usually lasts longer.
I laughed.
So did Maya.
First laughter I'd heard from her since coming home.
That afternoon Detective Hale called.
Warrants approved.
We agreed not to be present.
Police searched the house at 5:12 p.m.
Julian returned mid-search.
Body camera later showed him shouting:
“This is my brother's property!”
Detective answered:
“Then why are your financial records in his safe?”
Julian stopped.
Victoria arrived ten minutes later.
She demanded the governor.
Apparently she believed governors handled search warrants personally.
Police seized phones.
Computers.
Files.
And my father's watch from Julian's wrist.
That part pleased me more than it should have.
Then came the unexpected discovery.
A hidden recording device in the guest suite.
Several.
Victoria had been recording Maya.
Bedroom hall.
Kitchen.
Office.
Why?
Not security.
Editing.
Investigators found audio files cut into fragments.
Maya crying.
Maya shouting.
Maya saying:
“I can't do this anymore.”
Rearranged.
Context removed.
Folder title:
MAYA INSTABILITY.
They were preparing evidence for divorce or guardianship proceedings.
But we had no children.
So why guardianship?
The answer arrived in another document.
Petition draft.
Emergency conservatorship for Daniel Mercer due to combat-related psychiatric impairment.
I stared.
They planned to declare me mentally incompetent when I returned.
May you like
My mother and brother had not expected simply to steal while I was away.
They intended to keep what they stole after I came home by claiming my service had damaged my mind.
