Chapter 6: What She Had Already Taken
Detective Anita Reyes was a compact woman in her mid-forties with close-cropped hair and the careful, unhurried manner of someone who had learned that patience produced more truth than pressure.
She arrived at six-fifteen with a younger detective named Paulson, who carried a laptop and said very little.
She shook Jonathan's hand, pulled the chair close to the bed, and opened a folder.
"I'll be direct," she said.
"That's generally easier."
"Please," Jonathan said.
"Over the past eighteen months, a total of four million, three hundred thousand dollars was transferred out of your joint accounts." She turned the folder so he could see the first page — a table of transactions, dates, amounts, receiving account numbers.
"The transfers were made in increments small enough to avoid automatic bank flagging.
Never more than eighty thousand in a single transaction.
They were spread across eleven different receiving accounts."
Jonathan looked at the table.
His eyes moved down the column of dates.
"I didn't authorize these," he said.
"We know.
Your signature appears on the authorization forms, but our forensic documents examiner has already flagged three of them as inconsistent with your authenticated signature samples." She turned another page.
"The receiving accounts trace to two shell companies registered in Delaware.
Both companies were incorporated fourteen months ago."
"Raymond?" Jonathan said.
"One of the companies lists Raymond Holt as a director.
The other lists a name we're still tracing." Reyes looked up.
"Mr.
Holt has been cooperative.
He's confirmed that he and Mrs.
Mercer established both entities together.
He claims the funds were intended as a relocation account — money they planned to access after your d\*ath."
"Four million dollars," Jonathan said quietly.
"Four point three," Reyes said.
"We believe the transfers were intended to continue.
Based on the pattern, the next scheduled transfer would have been in approximately nine days."
Jonathan set the folder down on the blanket.
"She was already moving the money," he said.
"Before I was gone."
"Yes."
"She didn't even wait."
"No, sir.
She did not."
Paulson opened his laptop and turned it toward Jonathan.
On the screen was a photograph — a screenshot of a text message exchange.
Jonathan read it once.
Then again.
*How much longer?* one message read.
*Soon,* Victoria had replied.
*The doctor said five days.
Maybe less.
Be patient.*
*I've been patient for a year.*
*You'll have everything you want.
Just don't contact me at the hospital.*
Jonathan handed the laptop back without a word.
"Mr.
Mercer," Reyes said, "I want to be clear about where this stands.
We have sufficient evidence to support charges of attempted murd3r, financial fraud, and forgery.
The DA's office is reviewing the case tonight.
We expect formal charges to be filed within forty-eight hours."
"And Raymond?"
"Mr.
Holt will face charges related to financial fraud and conspiracy.
His cooperation is being factored in.
That's a matter for the DA." She closed her folder.
"I want to ask you something, and you don't have to answer."
"Go ahead."
"Did you have any indication?
Before this week — any moment where something felt wrong?"
Jonathan thought about it honestly.
"There were moments," he said slowly.
"Small things.
She would ask questions about the accounts — casual questions, over dinner.
I thought she was learning.
Taking an interest." He paused.
"She remembered every number I ever mentioned.
I thought it was because she cared about the business."
"She was building a picture," Reyes said.
"Yes.
I understand that now."
Reyes stood and offered her hand again.
"We'll be in touch.
Is there anything you need from us in the meantime?"
Jonathan shook her hand.
"Just one thing," he said.
"When the charges are filed — I'd like to know the moment it happens.
Not from the news.
From you."
"You'll hear from me directly," she said.
She and Paulson moved toward the door.
Paulson held it open.
Reyes paused in the doorway.
"Mr.
Mercer," she said.
"For what it's worth — the fact that you're still here to press charges is the best possible outcome."
"I'm aware," Jonathan said.
After they left, the room was very quiet.
Jonathan looked at the window.
The city lights were coming on below, small and distant and indifferent.
His phone buzzed.
A text from Gerald.
*Lucas has been informed.
He argued for eleven minutes.
I told him about the surgery.
He is currently sitting in the hallway outside your room and appears to be crying.
I thought you should know.*
Jonathan read the message twice.
He pressed the call button for the nurse.
"Could you ask the young man sitting in the hallway to come in?" he said.
"His name is Lucas."
A pause.
"Of course, Mr.
Mercer."
Jonathan set the phone down and waited.
But before the door opened, his phone buzzed again.
Not Gerald this time.
Not Reyes.
The name on the screen was one he had not seen in four years.
*DIANE MERCER — CALLING*
His ex-wife.
The one Victoria had worked very hard to ensure he never spoke to again.
Jonathan stared at the screen.
The door opened.
May you like
Lucas stepped in, eyes red, trying to compose himself.
The phone kept buzzing in Jonathan's hand.
