Chapter 3 - The Man Who Fired My Husband
David Mercer was waiting for us in a conference room at a small office park outside Richmond.
He looked older than I remembered from the one company picnic I had attended with Ethan.
His tie was loosened.
His eyes were tired.
And the moment he saw General Carter walk in beside us, he stood straighter.
“General.”
Dad nodded.
“Mr. Mercer.”
David looked at me.
“Camila?”
“Yes.”
He gestured toward the chairs.
“Sit.”
Ethan remained standing.
“You said my mother lied.”
David exhaled.
“She lied to you about why you lost your job.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“Then tell me.”
David placed a folder on the table.
“Six months ago, an internal audit found unexplained transfers from a vendor account.”
Ethan stared at him.
“What vendor?”
“Harrison Property Services.”
Ethan looked at me.
My heart sank.
David continued.
“The company had no legitimate relationship with that vendor.”
“Then why were there payments?”
“That was the problem.”
He opened the folder.
“I traced the authorization requests to your company credentials.”
Ethan shook his head.
“I didn't authorize them.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you fire me?”
“Because the approvals came through your account.”
“I told you my password had been compromised.”
“You did.”
“And you didn't believe me.”
David looked at Dad.
“I believed him after it was too late.”
He handed Ethan several printed emails.
The first appeared to be from Ethan's work address.
The second was an instruction to transfer money.
The third was a message to an outside accountant.
I read it over Ethan's shoulder.
It didn't sound like him.
The language was formal.
His writing was not.
“This isn't how Ethan writes,” I said.
David nodded.
“We eventually determined that someone had accessed his account from a device outside the company.”
Ethan stared.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
I looked at David.
“What does Diane have to do with this?”
He paused.
“She called me.”
“When?”
“Two days before I terminated Ethan.”
Ethan's face hardened.
“What did she say?”
“She told me you had a gambling problem.”
“What?”
“She said your debts were becoming dangerous.”
“That is insane.”
“She provided documents.”
I looked at Ethan.
“What documents?”
David opened another folder.
Credit statements.
Loan applications.
Late notices.
All in Ethan's name.
None looked familiar.
David pointed to one.
“This application was submitted electronically.”
I leaned closer.
The signature on it looked like Ethan's.
Except it wasn't.
The same strange hesitation appeared in the letters.
A forced imitation.
I recognized it.
The same style as the forged signature on the guardianship form.
My stomach dropped.
“It's the same person.”
Dad leaned forward.
“How did your investigation conclude?”
David rubbed his jaw.
“It didn't.”
“Why?”
“Because two days after Ethan was terminated, one of our auditors found a second folder hidden in the vendor database.”
Ethan's voice was low.
“What was in it?”
David looked directly at him.
“A list of people.”
“Which people?”
“Employees. Former employees. Family members.”
I felt cold.
“Why?”
David pushed the list toward us.
Several names had handwritten notes beside them.
Ethan.
Camila.
Michael Carter.
My father's eyes narrowed.
My name had a checkmark beside it.
Beside Dad's name were the words:
High influence. Difficult to pressure.
I looked at my father.
He didn't react outwardly.
But I knew him.
He was furious.
“Who wrote this?” he asked.
David shook his head.
“We couldn't determine that.”
Ethan picked up the pages.
“Why is my father on this?”
David looked at him.
“Your father's name wasn't on the list.”
I froze.
“What?”
David pointed.
“Michael Carter is your father-in-law.”
Ethan swallowed.
“Yes.”
“This list was compiled before I knew who he was.”
Dad stared at the page.
There was another note beside his name.
Military background. Publicly respected. Potential leverage.
My skin prickled.
This wasn't just about a car.
It wasn't even just about money.
Someone had been studying my family.
David closed the folder.
“There is more.”
“What?” I asked.
He hesitated.
“Ethan wasn't the only employee connected to the transfers.”
“Who else?”
“A woman named Leah Brooks.”
Ethan frowned.
“She worked in compliance.”
“She did.”
“Where is she?”
“She resigned three weeks ago.”
“Why?”
David lowered his voice.
“Because someone sent her a photograph of her daughter.”
Silence filled the room.
Dad leaned back.
“Did she report it?”
“She was terrified.”
“Where is she now?”
David took out a business card.
“She agreed to speak with you.”
I reached for it.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Nobody spoke.
Then a woman's voice whispered:
“Don't trust David.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
David looked at me.
“Who was it?”
“I don't know.”
Dad stood.
“Could you trace it?”
David shook his head.
“Not from here.”
Ethan suddenly pushed away from the table.
“My mother knew about the vendor account.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Because she once asked me why I hadn't approved a payment to HPS.”
I felt my breath catch.
“When?”
“Before I lost my job.”
“And you didn't think that was strange?”
“I thought she'd heard about it from my father.”
“Did she know the password to your work account?”
“I don't know.”
David's expression changed.
“She may have.”
Ethan looked at him.
“What?”
“Your old emergency contact was Diane.”
He stared.
“What?”
“You changed it after you were married.”
“I never did.”
David looked confused.
“Our records show it was changed.”
“To whom?”
“Diane Harrison.”
I stood.
“Someone changed Ethan's emergency contact, accessed his work credentials, created a company in his name, moved money from our household accounts, and forged my signature.”
Dad looked at me.
“That's what the evidence suggests.”
I shook my head.
“What we still don't know is why.”
The answer came several hours later.
Robert Harrison was waiting in his garage when we returned to the house.
Ethan's father looked sick.
He had been drinking coffee from the same mug he apparently used every morning for twenty years.
He stared at us.
“I know.”
Diane wasn't there.
That was the first thing I noticed.
“Where is Mom?” Ethan asked.
Robert swallowed.
“She left.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Dad stepped forward.
“Mr. Harrison, we need to talk.”
Robert nodded.
“I know.”
He reached into the pocket of his work jacket.
And pulled out a small brass key.
“I've been waiting a long time to give this to someone.”
He handed it to me.
I stared at the key.
“What is it?”
“A storage unit.”
Ethan frowned.
“What storage unit?”
Robert looked at his son.
“The one your mother told me never to mention.”
May you like
He turned to me.
“Everything you're looking for might be in there.”
