Chapter 5: The Uncle's Call
I stopped walking.
Around me, Columbus moved at its normal morning pace — a delivery truck idling at the curb, two women with coffee cups talking outside a café, pigeons on the sidewalk.
None of it seemed connected to the phone in my hand.
—What did Brandon tell you?
I asked.
—He told me you were unstable.
That you had been harassing Hannah.
That the money in question was a gift you made voluntarily and now regretted.
My jaw tightened.
—And did you believe him?
—I believed him for about four minutes.
Then Hannah called me.
Daniel Mercer's voice was measured.
Not warm, exactly, but careful.
The voice of someone who had built things and protected them and knew when something he had trusted had been used against him.
—Brandon came to me eight months ago asking for a loan.
He said it was for a business opportunity in Columbus.
He said he had a partner — a woman who was co-investing, someone with a stake in the outcome.
He used that story to convince me to connect him with a private lender I know in Indianapolis.
I vouched for him, Rachel.
I put my name on that introduction.
—And the collateral?
A pause.
—He told the lender he had a jointly owned property in Columbus.
He provided a signed authorization document listing you as co-owner.
My contact accepted it because I had vouched for Brandon's character.
— His voice dropped slightly.
— I did not know the document was forged.
I did not know the property claim was false.
And I did not know that Brandon was engaged to you while he was courting my niece.
—He wasn't courting her.
He was running a plan.
—Yes.
I understand that now.
I started walking again, slowly, not toward anything in particular.
—Why are you calling me, Mr.
Mercer?
—Because my niece is seven months pregnant and her husband is a crjminal.
Because I vouched for that man to a lender who trusted me.
And because the forty thousand dollars he borrowed has not been repaid — which means my reputation is currently attached to a fraud.
He paused.
—I want to help you.
Not out of kindness, though I hope I'm not an unkind man.
Out of necessity.
We both need Brandon to face what he's done.
—My lawyer is already involved.
—Good.
I'd like to speak with her.
And Rachel — Hannah found something else this morning.
After you hung up last night, she went through his bag more carefully.
I stopped again.
—What did she find?
—A second phone.
Prepaid.
She turned it on and found messages.
— He paused.
— Brandon has been in contact with someone else.
A woman in Cincinnati.
The messages go back eleven months.
The engagement ring had been eleven months ago.
—He wasn't just running two lives.
He was running three.
Daniel Mercer didn't answer immediately.
—That appears to be the case, yes.
I sat down on a bench outside a dry cleaner's.
A woman inside was pressing shirts behind the glass.
The steam rose and disappeared.
—Does Hannah know?
—She knows there's a second phone.
I haven't told her about the messages yet.
She's already had enough for one morning.
—She deserves to know.
—She will.
I wanted to speak to you first.
I thought about Hannah's voice the night before.
The way it had gone quiet when she found the document.
The way she had said *I thought he had chosen me* like it was something she was already letting go of.
—Mr.
Mercer.
The original forged document — Hannah has it?
—Yes.
She's keeping it safe.
—My lawyer needs it.
The original, not a copy.
—I'll arrange for it to be couriered to your lawyer's office today.
I'll cover the cost.
—And the second phone?
—Hannah has it.
She's not going to give it to Brandon.
— A short pause.
— She's not going to give him anything anymore.
I looked up at the sky.
It was a flat, pale blue, the kind that doesn't commit to anything.
—Tell Hannah I'll call her this afternoon.
And Mr.
Mercer — thank you.
—Don't thank me yet.
Brandon knows I spoke to Hannah this morning.
He doesn't know I've called you.
But he's not a stupid man.
He'll start moving soon.
The call ended.
I sat on that bench for another minute.
Then I called Carol Voss.
She picked up immediately.
—He has a third woman, I said.
And a prepaid phone with eleven months of messages.
And Hannah's uncle is willing to cooperate.
The forged document is being couriered to you today.
A brief silence.
—Alright.
I'm calling my contact in Indianapolis in the next hour.
Rachel, I need you to go home, stay off social media, and do not — under any circumstances — respond to Brandon if he contacts you again.
—He's going to figure out that I know more than he thinks.
—Yes.
And when he does, he's going to do something.
— Her voice was steady.
— Let him.
Whatever he does next, we want a record of it.
My phone buzzed in my hand while Carol was still speaking.
A text from Brandon.
*We need to meet.
Tonight.
I can explain everything.
Please.*
Then, thirty seconds later:
*If you go to the police, you'll regret it.
There are things about you in those bank records that won't look good.
I'm trying to protect you.*
I read it twice.
Then I forwarded it directly to Carol.
She called back in under a minute.
—That's a threat and an attempted obstruction.
Screenshot it, don't delete it, and send me the original text thread.
May you like
— I could hear her typing.
— He just made this considerably easier.
