Chapter 17-+Mercer
882 Words
*CHAPTER 17: MERCER*
---
*8:40 AM. July 8. Outside the Café*
The café was closed.
`CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS` sign on the door.
But the lights were on inside.
Booth 7.
Anderson was behind me.
“Don’t do this alone,” he said.
“I’m not,” I said. “You’re right here.”
In my bag: Parker’s notebook.
The leather one from the safety deposit box.
Every name. Every date. Every lie.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
`5 minutes. Come alone or we walk.`
They knew Anderson was here.
“Stay out of sight,” I told him.
“If anything happens, you call Harris.”
Anderson nodded.
But his hand was on his gun.
I pushed the door.
---
*9:00 AM. Booth 7*
It was clean.
Too clean.
Like no one had ever spilled coffee here.
3 people sat at Booth 7.
1. *Peterson.* In an orange jumpsuit. Handcuffed. Two officers behind him.
2. *A woman in a grey suit.* 40s. Cold eyes. File on the table.
3. *A man I didn’t know.* 50s. Silver hair. Mercer logo on his cufflinks.
The man stood when I came in.
“Ms.,” he said.
“Please. Sit.”[LastName]
I sat.
“I’m Richard Mercer,” he said.
“CEO of Mercer Global Group.
Parent company of Peterson Holdings.”
He slid a contract across the table.
`NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT`
`SETTLEMENT: 2,000,000`
“For your silence,” Mercer said.
“And for the notebook.”
Peterson wouldn’t look at me.
“The notebook,” Mercer said again.
“Now.”
---
*9:05 AM. The Offer*
I put my bag on the table.
Didn’t open it.
“Why?” I asked.
“Why did you do it?”
Mercer smiled.
“Money laundering is boring.
Think of it as... tax optimization.
Peterson got greedy.
He started moving too much.”
“So you killed my dad?”
“I had no idea who Parker was,” Mercer said.
“Peterson handled personnel.
Didn’t he tell you? Tragic accident.”
Peterson flinched.
“Liar,” I said.
Mercer shrugged.
“The money is gone anyway.
Geneva accounts: emptied.
But we can make this right.
2 million. New name. New city.
No more hiding.”
He pushed the contract closer.
“Sign. Give me the notebook.
And we all go home.”
---
*9:10 AM. The Trap*
I opened my bag.
Pulled out the notebook.
Mercer’s eyes lit up.
I held it out.
Halfway.
“One question first,” I said.
“Who is M?”
Mercer’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Me.”
And that’s when the lights went out again.
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*9:11 AM. Blackout*
Same as yesterday.
Dark.
Chaos.
But this time I was ready.
I dropped the notebook.
Kicked it under the table.
“Now!” I yelled.
The back door burst open.
Harris.
4 officers.
Anderson.
Flashlights.
“Hands up! FBI!”
Except it wasn’t FBI.
It was Financial Crimes.
And they had warrants.
Mercer stood.
Too fast.
“Don’t move,” Harris said.
Mercer laughed.
“On what charge?”
“Wire fraud. Conspiracy. Money laundering,” Harris said.
“And obstruction.”
He held up the notebook.
I hadn’t given it to him.
One of his officers had grabbed it from under the table.
Mercer’s face dropped.
Peterson started talking.
Fast.
“Deal. I want a deal. I’ll testify.
It was Mercer. All of it. He ordered me to move the money.”
Mercer lunged.
Two officers tackled him.
---
*9:30 AM. After*
Sirens.
Handcuffs.
Mercer in the back of a car.
Still yelling.
Peterson was already in another car.
Crying.
Detective Harris walked to me.
Handed me the notebook.
“Evidence,” he said. “But copies are made.
You can have this back after trial.”
Anderson came up.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded.
Couldn’t talk yet.
My phone buzzed.
Mom.
`I saw it on TV. Are you okay?`
`I’m so proud of you.`
---
*2:00 PM. Press Again*
This time it was real press.
National.
Cameras.
Microphones.
Anderson spoke.
I stood next to him.
“Today, Mercer Global Group CEO Richard Mercer was arrested.
Along with Peterson Holdings CEO.
Thanks to the evidence provided by Parker, and his daughter Linda.”[LastName]
Flash.
“Ms., do you have anything to say?”[LastName]
I stepped to the mic.
“My dad hid this in Booth 7,” I said.
“Because he thought it was the safest place.
He was right.”
Another flash.
“And to anyone else hiding something,” I said.
“Be loud. Don’t let them bury you.”
---
*8:00 PM. Home*
Mom made dinner.
Real dinner.
Not tea.
The news was on.
`MERCER GLOBAL INDICTED`
`14.7 MILLION TO BE RETURNED TO INVESTORS`
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I almost didn’t answer.
`You did it.`
`— J`
Just J.
I smiled.
Then another text.
Unknown number.
`The notebook isn’t the only copy.`
`There’s one more.`
`Booth 7. Under the table.`
`Come alone.`
My blood went cold.
Another copy?
I looked at Anderson.
He was watching the news.
“Did you know about another copy?” I asked.
He turned.
“No.”
The text buzzed again.
`9 AM tomorrow.`
`Or we tell the world Parker wasn’t the hero.`
- Writer
