Chapter 4: The Signature That Shouldn't Have Existed
The woman with the briefcase turned the document toward us.
For a moment, all I could hear was the ticking clock in the hallway.
Then I saw the signature.
It belonged to my father.
Daniel Mercer.
The same name he'd signed on my school permission slips, birthday cards, and the receipt for the blue satin gown that now lay in ashes somewhere upstairs.
I looked at him.
"No.""
He didn't move.
"Tell me that's not your signature.""
His eyes stayed fixed on the paper.
"Evelyn, let her explain.""
"Why is your name on a laboratory report connected to Mom's death?""
The woman introduced herself as Detective Helen Ward. She had dark hair pulled into a low knot, a plain navy suit, and the kind of expression that made every word sound like it had already been measured.
"The document indicates that a sample was submitted for testing three days before Mrs. Mercer's death," she said.
"The person who submitted it identified himself as Daniel Mercer.""
My father shook his head.
"I never submitted that sample.""
Detective Ward placed another sheet beside the first.
"Someone used your business credentials to authorize the analysis.""
"Then someone forged my signature.""
"That is one possibility.""
Renata made a small, strangled sound.
It was barely audible, but I heard it.
So did the detective.
Ward turned toward her.
"Mrs. Mercer, you seem particularly interested in these documents.""
Renata straightened her shoulders.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.""
"You were standing beside the box when we arrived.""
"Because it belongs to my husband.""
"Then you won't mind explaining why you tried to take it from him.""
Renata looked at Dad.
For a split second, I thought she might beg him to protect her.
Instead, she smiled.
"Daniel has always been protective of Evelyn. He would do anything to keep her from learning something unpleasant about her mother.""
My father stepped between Renata and the detective.
"Don't use my daughter to distract from what you've done.""
"What I've done?"" Renata laughed.
"You're the one who buried the evidence.""
Detective Ward raised a hand.
"One at a time.""
She turned back to the document.
"Mr. Mercer, do you recognize the laboratory listed here?""
Dad leaned forward.
His expression changed.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because it's owned by my company.""
The room seemed to contract around us.
I looked from him to the detective.
"Your company has a laboratory?""
"Not a laboratory in the usual sense," Dad said.
"We have a small testing facility for checking timber treatments, chemical residues, and industrial materials. We use an outside laboratory for specialized analysis.""
"And the sample came from your facility?""
"It appears that way.""
Detective Ward nodded.
"According to the records, the sample was registered under an internal reference number. That number was later removed from the company's database.""
"Who had access to the database?"" Dad asked.
"Your staff, certain administrators, and anyone with the appropriate credentials.""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"Renata had access.""
My stepmother gave a sharp laugh.
"I had access to the household accounts. Not your industrial systems.""
"You were my financial administrator.""
"That doesn't make me a chemist.""
"No," he said.
"But it gave you access to records you had no business touching.""
Detective Ward watched them carefully.
"Mrs. Mercer, did you ever work at your husband's company?""
"Briefly. Years ago.""
"Did you have access to his business credentials?""
"Daniel trusted me with many things.""
She said it with a softness that made my skin crawl.
Dad stared at her.
"That was a mistake.""
For the first time, Renata's expression broke.
She stepped toward him.
"You promised you'd never speak about what happened in that house.""
"I promised to protect my daughter.""
"And I helped you do that!""
"By destroying evidence?""
"By keeping the family together!""
Her voice cracked through the room.
Blair stood in the doorway, clutching the sleeves of her sweatshirt.
"Mom, what are you talking about?""
Renata looked at her daughter.
"Go upstairs.""
"No.""
"Blair, go upstairs.""
"You told me Dad was the reason everything went wrong. You said Evelyn's mother ruined your life.""
Renata's mouth tightened.
"That is a complicated matter.""
"Then explain it!""
"Not now.""
Blair shook her head.
"You're always saying that. Not now. Not here.
Not in front of people. When are you going to tell me anything?""
Renata slapped her.
The sound was so sudden that even Detective Ward flinched.
Blair stumbled backward, one hand pressed to her cheek.
I moved toward her instinctively.
Renata pointed at me.
"Stay away from my daughter.""
I stopped.
Blair looked at her mother with an expression I'd never seen on her face before.
Not anger.
Disbelief.
"You just hit me," she whispered.
"You embarrassed me.""
"I asked you a question!""
"And you will learn to stop asking questions when you don't understand the consequences.""
Detective Ward stepped between them.
"That's enough.""
She signaled to the uniformed officer.
"Please take Mrs. Mercer into the living room while we secure the evidence.""
Renata's eyes widened.
"You're not arresting me.""
"No one said you were under arrest.""
"Then I'm not going anywhere.""
The officer moved closer.
"Ma'am, please.""
Renata glanced at the blue bottle on the floor, then at the open box.
For the first time since I'd known her, she looked genuinely cornered.
But even then, she didn't look at the detective.
She looked at my father.
"You think this ends with me?"" she whispered.
Dad said nothing.
"You think I'm the only one who knows what happened?""
The detective turned sharply.
"What do you mean by that?""
Renata closed her mouth.
Then she allowed the officer to escort her out of the study.
Blair remained behind.
She stared at the place where her mother had stood, rubbing her cheek.
I wanted to feel satisfied.
For two years, Blair had laughed while Renata humiliated me. She'd stolen my belongings, hidden my school assignments, and told classmates I was unstable whenever I cried.
But watching her stand there, suddenly unsure whether her own mother loved her, I felt something complicated settle in my chest.
I didn't forgive her.
I simply understood that cruelty could live inside a family for so long that everyone eventually learned to mistake it for normal.
Detective Ward crouched beside the open box.
"Nobody touches anything until the evidence team arrives.""
She photographed the bottle, the label, and the cloth wrapped around it.
Then she examined the submission form.
"The laboratory records indicate that this sample was tested twice," she said.
"The first analysis was inconclusive. The second identified a substance that required further investigation.""
"What substance?"" I asked.
Ward glanced at me.
"I can't give you a definitive answer until the laboratory confirms the original results. But the report suggests a chemical compound capable of causing serious harm if ingested or inhaled in sufficient quantities.""
My stomach turned.
"Could it have killed my mother?""
"It could have contributed to her death. We need more evidence before making that determination.""
Dad gripped the edge of the desk.
"Who ordered the second test?""
Ward looked at the paper.
"The authorization was submitted using your credentials. The laboratory's records list a contact person, but the name is partially obscured.""
She held the page toward the light.
I leaned closer.
The first name was clear.
Renata.
My stepmother's name.
The surname had been blacked out.
"That's enough," Dad said quietly.
Ward looked at him.
"Do you know who she was working with?""
He stared at the page.
"No.""
But I saw his fingers trembling.
He was lying again.
Not because he wanted to deceive me, I thought, but because he was terrified of what the truth might do to the last pieces of our family.
Detective Ward stood.
"We'll need access to the company's original records, Mr. Mercer. And we'll need to speak with anyone who had access to your credentials.""
"You'll have it.""
"Even if the records implicate you?""
He looked at her directly.
"Especially then.""
The detective nodded once.
Then she turned to Blair.
"Miss Mercer, I'd like to ask you a few questions about the days before your stepmother's death.""
Blair swallowed.
"I was a child.""
"You were old enough to remember things.""
"I don't remember anything important.""
"That's fine. We'll start with what you do remember.""
Blair looked at me.
For once, there was no mockery in her eyes.
Only fear.
"Can I speak to Evelyn first?"" she asked.
Detective Ward considered it.
"Briefly. In the kitchen. An officer will remain nearby.""
Dad touched my shoulder.
"You don't have to do this.""
I looked at Blair.
"Yes, I do.""
We walked to the kitchen together.
The room smelled faintly of coffee and lemon detergent. The blue-and-white curtains my mother had chosen still hung above the sink, although Renata had tried to replace them twice.
Blair sat at the breakfast table.
I remained standing.
"Say what you need to say.""
She stared at her hands.
"I didn't know she was going to cut your dress.""
"That doesn't erase what you did afterward.""
"I know.""
"You laughed.""
"I know.""
"You held me back while she put it in the bin.""
Blair's eyes filled with tears.
"I know.""
I folded my arms.
"Then why are you asking to speak to me?""
She took a shaky breath.
"Because I heard something last night.""
I didn't move.
"What?""
"Mom was on the phone in her bedroom. I woke up because she was shouting.""
"What did she say?""
Blair looked toward the doorway to make sure the officer wasn't close enough to hear.
"She said the bottle had been found.""
My pulse quickened.
"Found where?""
"I don't know. She was talking to someone named Victor.""
"Victor who?""
"She didn't say.""
"What else?""
Blair swallowed.
"She said Daniel had finally taken Evelyn to Arthur Finch. She said if you read the letter, everything would fall apart.""
My hands went cold.
"She knew about the letter?""
Blair nodded.
"She said your mother had made one last mistake before she died. Something about leaving a copy with the wrong person.""
"Did she say who?""
"No.""
"Did she mention the laboratory report?""
Blair looked down.
"She said the original report was supposed to be destroyed.""
A clock ticked above the kitchen door.
I could hear my father speaking to Detective Ward in the study, his voice low and strained.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
Blair let out a bitter laugh.
"Because I'm a coward.""
The honesty of it startled me.
She wiped her face with her sleeve.
"Mom always said that if anyone found out what happened, we'd lose everything. The house. The money.
The business. She said Dad would go to prison and we'd end up with nothing.""
"And you believed her.""
"Yes.""
"Even when she hurt me?""
Blair looked at me.
"I thought if I stayed on her side, she wouldn't turn on me.""
I stared at her.
"She just slapped you because you asked a question.""
Blair nodded slowly.
"I know.""
For the first time, I understood how Renata had kept control of the house. She hadn't needed everyone to love her.
She only needed everyone to fear what would happen if they stopped obeying.
I pulled out the chair opposite Blair and sat down.
"Tell the detective everything you know.""
"What if Mom goes to prison?""
"Then she'll have to answer for what she did.""
Blair stared at the table.
"And what if Dad did something too?""
I thought of the signature on the submission form.
The years of silence.
The letter my mother had written.
"Then he will have to answer for it, too.""
Blair nodded, though she looked as if she'd been waiting for someone to give her permission to say that.
Before either of us could speak again, Detective Ward appeared in the doorway.
"Evelyn, your father needs you in the study.""
I stood.
Blair caught my hand.
"There's one more thing.""
"What?""
She looked toward the hallway.
"Victor wasn't just a name Mom said on the phone.""
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He came to this house the night your mother died.""
I froze.
"How do you know?""
"Because I saw him.""
The detective stepped closer.
"Who is Victor?""
Blair opened her mouth.
Then a phone rang in the study.
My father's phone.
I heard him answer.
"Hello?""
A pause.
Then his voice changed.
"What do you mean, he's dead?""
Detective Ward and I exchanged a look.
From the study, my father spoke again.
"When?""
Another pause.
Then, barely above a whisper:
"Where did you find him?""
Blair's fingers tightened around mine.
May you like
And when Dad finally appeared in the doorway, his face had gone the color of ash.
"The man who submitted the original laboratory report," he said, "has just been found dead.""
