Chapter 5: The Morning After
I didn't sleep.
I lay beside Marcus in our apartment with the lights on and his stuffed dog between us, and I watched the ceiling and listened to every sound the building made.
The pipes.
The couple upstairs.
A car alarm two blocks away that ran for forty seconds and then stopped.
At six in the morning, Marcus woke up and asked for cereal.
I made it.
Sat across from him at our small table.
Watched him eat.
"Mommy, are we going back to the big house?"
"I don't know yet."
"I liked the plants in the glass room."
"The conservatory."
"The con-ser-va-tory." He tried the word carefully, like it was something he wanted to keep.
"It smelled like rain."
"It did."
He ate another spoonful.
"Did Mr.
Dominic like getting his hearing back?"
I looked at him.
"Yes.
I think he did."
"Good." He nodded, satisfied, and went back to his cereal.
At eight-fifteen, someone knocked on the door.
I looked through the peephole.
A woman.
Mid-forties.
Dark coat.
She held up a badge before I could ask.
"Ms.
Mercer?
My name is Agent Calloway.
Federal organized crjme division.
I'd like to speak with you about last night."
I opened the door.
She came in, declined coffee, and sat at the kitchen table across from where Marcus had eaten his cereal an hour earlier.
"We've been watching the Cray household for fourteen months," she said.
"Last night created a situation we weren't prepared for."
"That makes two of us."
"The device your son removed — we believe it's connected to a broader operation.
Thomas Cray has been running portions of Dominic's business interests without Dominic's knowledge for approximately thirty months.
Using Dominic's incapacity as cover."
"Thirty months," I said.
"Victor said the plan started four years ago."
Calloway's eyes sharpened.
"Victor told you that directly?"
"Last night.
In the conservatory."
She wrote something down.
"What else did he say?"
I told her.
All of it.
The message thread.
Thomas's name.
The private surgeon.
The thirty-six hours in the hospital.
She wrote steadily and didn't interrupt.
When I finished, she looked up.
"Ms.
Mercer, I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer carefully." She set her pen down.
"Before last night, had anyone at the Cray estate ever approached you about Dominic's condition?
Asked you to report on his behavior, his routines, his communications?"
I went very still.
"Victor," I said slowly.
"Two months ago.
He said it was standard.
That all senior staff provided weekly reports on Mr.
Cray's wellbeing."
"Did you provide those reports?"
"I wrote three.
They were general.
His mood, whether he seemed unwell, whether he'd had visitors.
I thought it was—" I stopped.
"I thought it was care."
"It was surveillance." Calloway picked her pen back up.
"You weren't the only one.
He had four staff members doing the same thing."
My stomach dropped.
"Am I in trouble?"
"No.
You didn't know what it was for.
But I need copies of whatever you submitted."
"I sent them by email.
Through the staff portal."
"We'll need access to that account."
I nodded.
She stood to leave, then paused at the door.
"The message you received last night.
The unknown number."
I looked at her.
"Don't respond to it," she said.
"And don't go anywhere alone for the next few days." She glanced toward the hallway where Marcus was playing in his room.
"Either of you."
She left.
I stood in the kitchen for a long moment after the door closed.
Then I picked up my phone and looked at the message again.
*You should have kept your son at home, Ms.
Mercer.
This isn't finished.*
Below it, a new message had arrived while I was talking to Calloway.
May you like
Same unknown number.
*We know where you live.*
