Chapter 3 - THE ACCOUNTANT WHO DIED TWICE
Adrien arrived at the police station forty-eight minutes later.
He came alone.
No convoy.
No armed guards.
Just a dark coat, a bandage on his knuckles from an old injury, and the expression of a man who had spent the last hour imagining every possible way someone might have hurt Isabella.
She was sitting beneath a fluorescent light when he entered.
Her hair had come loose.
Her coat was gone.
The bruise on her wrist had darkened.
He stopped several feet away.
"Isabella."
She stood too quickly.
"I didn't mean—"
"Don't apologize."
She looked at him.
He glanced toward the bruise.
"Has a doctor examined that?"
"It's nothing."
His eyes met hers.
"Please don't say that again."
The words were quiet.
Not angry.
But they carried more emotion than she'd ever heard from him.
A detective named Laura Hayes joined them.
She explained that Isabella had reported an attempted abduction and provided descriptions of the vehicle and two suspects.
The delivery driver had corroborated her account.
Security cameras near the industrial road were being reviewed.
Adrien listened without interrupting.
Then Detective Hayes turned to him.
"Miss Bennett says the threats involved a man employed by your organization."
Adrien nodded.
"Daniel Mercer."
"You know him?"
"He's my chief financial officer."
The detective's expression sharpened.
"Then we'll need your cooperation."
"You'll have it."
Isabella looked up.
Adrien noticed.
He didn't ask why she seemed surprised.
Later, they sat in a private interview room.
Adrien placed a glass of water before her.
"Tell me about your brother."
Isabella stared at him.
"His name is Noah."
"How old?"
"Twenty."
"Where is he?"
"Milwaukee."
Adrien nodded.
"I've asked Marco to contact local authorities and request a welfare check."
Her eyes widened.
"You didn't send men after him?"
"No."
She looked down.
"I thought you would."
Adrien was quiet for a moment.
Then said:
"I know."
Isabella told him about the messages.
The photograph.
The train ticket.
The driver.
And finally, her father.
His name had been Samuel Bennett.
For twenty-six years, he'd worked as an accountant for a regional construction company.
He was careful.
Honest.
And stubborn enough to argue with his own boss over a missing receipt.
Seventeen months earlier, he'd discovered suspicious transfers involving Bellwether Development Trust.
The transactions appeared to connect several construction projects to inflated invoices and payments routed through intermediaries.
Samuel had begun collecting records.
Then he died.
Adrien listened.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Isabella looked away.
"Because Bellwether belongs to your family."
His expression changed.
"What?"
She swallowed.
"That's what Dad found."
Adrien leaned forward.
"Bellwether was established by my father twenty years ago."
"I know."
"It was supposed to finance affordable housing projects."
Isabella looked at him.
"My father believed someone was stealing from it."
Silence.
Then Adrien asked:
"Who?"
She hesitated.
"Daniel Mercer."
Adrien closed his eyes.
Daniel had handled Bellwether's accounts for years.
He had been the one to tell Adrien that the trust's recent losses came from failed investments and rising construction costs.
He had also recommended selling the remaining properties.
Adrien had approved a preliminary review.
He had not known about Samuel Bennett.
Or his death.
Isabella continued.
"I took the job at your estate because I thought I might find something."
Adrien looked up.
"You came here to investigate me."
She nodded.
"At first."
He absorbed that.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"No."
She swallowed.
"I found someone different from the man I'd been told about."
Adrien stared.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he reached into his coat and placed the sealed envelope on the table.
"Is this yours?"
Isabella gasped.
"You found it."
"I didn't open it."
She looked at him.
"Why?"
Adrien's expression softened.
"Because it wasn't addressed to me."
She opened the envelope herself.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Daniel, I know what happened to my father. I know about Bellwether. I have copies of the transfers. If anything happens to Noah, I will give everything to the police.
Adrien read it only after she offered it to him.
When he finished, his face had gone pale.
"Isabella."
She looked up.
"Where are the copies?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
"In the one place Daniel would never think to search."
Adrien waited.
May you like
She looked directly at him.
"Your mother's grave."
