Chapter 6 - Rachel's Price.
Megan refused to let me meet Rachel alone.
Detective Price refused to let me meet her at all.
"She is a potential witness in two active investigations," he said when we called him.
"Then you meet her," I replied.
"We will."
"Before Monday?"
"If she agrees."
"She contacted me."
"That does not mean she trusts police."
I looked at Megan.
"What do we do?"
She thought for a moment.
"We tell Rachel that any communication needs to go through her own attorney or Detective Price."
"And if she disappears?"
"Then chasing her personally is exactly the kind of thing Diana will use against you."
I hated restraint.
I hated being told to wait while my daughter lay in a hospital bed because people had built a legal trap around us.
But I was beginning to understand that every impulsive move was a door Diana had left open for me.
I texted Rachel one sentence.
Detective Price will speak with you safely, and I will not contact you directly.
Her answer came immediately.
HE CAN'T KEEP ME SAFE FROM HER.
Then nothing.
At ten thirty, the doctor discharged Emma with instructions for rest, fluids, medication, and immediate follow-up if her fever climbed again.
Adrienne, the social worker, met us before we left.
"Emma should not return to the Holloway residence while this is being investigated," she said.
"She won't."
Adrienne looked at me carefully.
"There will also be a home visit."
For a second, the words felt like an accusation.
She saw my face.
"It is standard in a case like this."
I nodded.
"Come whenever you want."
"Good."
She handed me a card.
"And Mr. Mercer?"
"Yes?"
"Don't coach Emma about what happened."
"I won't."
"Let professionals ask the detailed questions."
"Okay."
"Children remember in fragments. Adults sometimes fill the gaps because we want clarity. Don't do that."
I understood what she meant.
The truth had to remain Emma's.
Not mine.
Kate met us at my house just after noon.
A patrol car was still parked at the curb.
Emma stiffened when she saw it.
"Are we in trouble?"
"No," I said.
"They're helping us."
She looked unconvinced.
I carried her inside.
Our house looked ordinary until I reached the office.
Then I saw the open drawers.
The boxes pulled from shelves.
The scattered papers.
The empty place where Leah's accident file had been.
Emma rested her head on my shoulder.
"Why is it messy?"
"Someone was looking for something."
"Grandma?"
The question came so naturally that it hurt.
"We don't know."
Kate had already changed the keypad code and arranged for a locksmith to replace the rear door cylinder.
Megan had hired a digital security company to inspect my home network.
I almost protested at the cost.
Then I remembered Diana had hired Charles Voss.
This was no longer the time to be cheap.
Emma slept on the living room couch while Kate sat beside her.
Megan and I went through every remaining document in my office.
"What was in the missing box besides the police report?" she asked.
"Insurance paperwork. Leah's death certificate. The towing invoice. A copy of the autopsy summary. Phone records."
"Anything about her estate?"
"Maybe."
"Think."
I closed my eyes.
"There was a copy of a letter from her father's trust attorney."
Megan stopped.
"What letter?"
"It came after Leah died. Something about Emma becoming contingent beneficiary of a family trust."
"Why haven't I seen it?"
"Because I thought it didn't matter until Emma was older."
Megan stared at me.
"Daniel."
"What?"
"How much money?"
"I don't know."
"That is not an answer."
"Leah said her father had set up trusts years ago. She never talked numbers."
"Who is trustee?"
I thought back.
"Diana, maybe."
Megan leaned against the desk.
"Maybe?"
"I didn't marry Leah for money, Megan. I didn't ask."
"And now someone has filed for custody of the child who may be beneficiary to that money."
The room became very quiet.
"You think this is about the trust."
"I think we need to know what the trust says."
I searched my email for the attorney's name.
Nothing.
Then I searched Leah's name and the word trust.
One old message appeared from an attorney named Franklin Ames.
The subject line was Holloway Family Irrevocable Trust - Notice.
I opened it.
The email had been sent three weeks after Leah died.
Mr. Mercer, please retain the enclosed notice for your records as parent and natural guardian of Emma Mercer.
The attachment was missing.
Not corrupted.
Deleted.
"That attachment was there before," I said.
Megan's eyes narrowed.
"How do you know?"
"I printed it. That's how it got in the box."
She sat at my computer.
"Don't touch anything else."
"Why?"
"Because deleting an email attachment without deleting the email itself is odd."
The digital security technician arrived at one fifteen.
His name was Aaron Patel, and within ten minutes he had found something I had never noticed.
"Your email account had a login from a new device Friday at four eighteen p.m.," he said.
"Where?"
"Location data says your neighborhood."
"Diana was at my house then."
Aaron nodded.
"The session lasted eleven minutes."
"Can you tell what she did?"
"Not exactly. But your deleted items were emptied during that session."
Megan looked at me.
"The text thread."
Aaron continued.
"There was also a password reset request for your cloud backup account."
"Was it successful?"
"Yes."
"So she had access to my backups too."
"Possibly."
"Can we recover anything?"
"Likely."
He looked at the monitor.
"Whoever did this wasn't a professional. They knew your password or had access to your unlocked devices, but they left logs everywhere."
That was the first good news of the afternoon.
"Can you preserve the logs?" Megan asked.
"Already imaging them."
My phone buzzed.
A message from Detective Price.
RACHEL AGREED TO MEET.
I called him immediately.
"Where?"
"Station."
"When?"
"Now."
"Can I come?"
"No."
"Megan?"
"Also no."
"Then tell me what she says."
"If I legally can."
The next two hours were unbearable.
Emma woke hungry, which felt like a miracle.
She ate half a bowl of chicken noodle soup and watched a cartoon with Kate.
I sat on the floor beside the couch pretending to watch with her.
Every minute, I checked my phone.
At four seventeen, Price finally called.
"She talked," he said.
I walked into the kitchen and shut the door.
"About what?"
"A lot."
"Start with Leah's phone."
Price sighed.
"Rachel says she worked for Diana before she worked for you."
I froze.
"What?"
"Not as a nanny. Household assistant. Part-time."
"She never told me."
"That appears intentional."
I looked through the glass door at Emma.
"Diana placed Rachel in my house."
"Rachel says Diana recommended her anonymously through a childcare agency after Leah died."
"Why?"
"To report on you."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"For a year?"
"At first."
"What does that mean?"
"Rachel says she stopped reporting after about three months because she didn't find anything serious."
"Then why sign the affidavit?"
Price's voice hardened.
"Money."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
"How much?"
"Fifteen thousand dollars so far. Another twenty-five promised after Monday."
"For lying about me."
"She says Diana told her the statements were exaggerations, not lies."
"That's convenient."
"Very."
"And the fake messages?"
"Rachel admits she created the screenshot."
My knees weakened with relief.
One piece of the case had just collapsed.
"The wallet photo?"
"She staged it."
"At Diana's house?"
"Yes."
"The security footage?"
Price paused.
"She created the GuestAdmin account."
"And deleted the video."
"She says Diana told her exactly which time range to erase."
I leaned against the counter.
"That's enough."
"It is significant."
"Significant? Owen, she admitted fabricating evidence."
"She also committed crimes, which means her credibility is now complicated."
I hated the law again.
"What about Leah's phone?"
Price went quiet.
"Rachel says that when she worked for Diana two years ago, she once found a phone hidden in the locked drawer of Diana's study."
"What kind?"
"Cheap prepaid model."
My pulse jumped.
"Did she see the number?"
"No."
"Then how does she know it was Leah's?"
"Because a voicemail was saved on it."
"From Leah?"
"Rachel says she heard Leah's voice."
I could barely breathe.
"What did Leah say?"
Price hesitated.
"Rachel only heard part of it before Diana walked in."
"Tell me."
"She remembers Leah saying, 'Mom, stop calling Daniel. This is between you and me.'"
My stomach turned.
"Mom."
"Yes."
"Leah was talking to Diana."
"If Rachel remembers correctly."
"Where is the phone now?"
"Rachel says she hasn't seen it since."
I closed my eyes.
For two years, I had wondered who Leah called before the crash.
Now the answer might have been sitting in Diana's locked desk the entire time.
"Why tell us now?"
"Because Rachel is scared."
"Of Diana?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Price took a breath.
"Because last night, after Rachel deleted the video, Diana changed the deal."
"What deal?"
"She told Rachel there would be no final payment unless she testified that you threatened her."
I felt cold.
"So Rachel came back and lied again."
"Yes."
"And now she has a conscience?"
"No."
Price's answer was immediate.
"She has a bigger problem."
"What?"
"Diana recorded Rachel admitting to the evidence fabrication."
I stared at the wall.
"Blackmail."
"That's what Rachel believes."
"Why would Diana record her own conspiracy?"
"Insurance."
That sounded exactly like Diana.
Price continued.
"Rachel says Diana told her, 'If I fall, you fall first.'"
I looked at Megan, who had entered the kitchen and was watching my face.
"Is Rachel cooperating?"
"For now."
"Will she testify Monday?"
"That's up to prosecutors, her lawyer, and your custody case."
"But she can tell the judge the affidavit is false."
"Likely."
I finally breathed.
For the first time, Monday seemed survivable.
Then Price ruined that feeling.
"Daniel, there's one thing Rachel refused to explain."
"What?"
"The trust."
Megan stepped closer.
"She knows about it?"
"She reacted when I mentioned Emma's name and financial motive."
"What did she say?"
"Nothing at first."
"Then?"
"She asked for an attorney before answering any more questions."
I looked at Megan.
"Why would Rachel care about the trust?"
Price lowered his voice.
"Because apparently Diana didn't hire Rachel directly."
"Who did?"
"A company called Northstar Family Services."
Megan's face went blank.
"I know that name."
I looked at her.
"From where?"
She walked to my computer and searched quickly.
Then she turned the screen toward me.
The old Holloway trust notice was listed in the search results cache.
One line was still visible from the missing attachment.
Administrative services provided by Northstar Family Services LLC.
I stared at the words.
The company that had paid Rachel to help Diana build a custody case was also connected to Emma's family trust.
May you like
And suddenly the money was no longer a theory.
It was sitting in the center of everything.
