Chapter 8: The Locked Drawer
I ran upstairs without answering Derek.
His footsteps followed me.
“Megan, wait.””
I didn't.
I reached my office, shut the door, and locked it behind me.
Derek hit the other side a second later.
“Open the door.””
I pulled the desk chair aside.
The locked drawer was at the bottom of the filing cabinet.
I had tried opening it dozens of times over the past year.
The key had vanished.
I had replaced the cabinet lock twice.
Neither replacement had worked.
Now I knew why.
My hands shook as I crouched beside it.
Behind the door, Derek hit the wood again.
“Don't open that.””
I looked at the drawer.
Then at the lock.
“Why?””
He didn't answer.
I pulled a small screwdriver from my desk.
“Megan.””
I wedged it into the mechanism.
“Megan, please.””
I twisted.
The lock snapped.
The drawer opened.
Inside was a thick black envelope.
No label.
No name.
Just my handwriting across the front.
I stared at it.
I hadn't written it.
I knew that instantly.
The handwriting looked almost like mine, but the capital letters were wrong.
I opened the envelope.
The first thing I saw was a photograph.
Then another.
Then another.
A dozen photographs.
Me leaving my office.
Me getting into my car.
Me entering a restaurant.
Me sitting with a client.
Me at home.
My stomach twisted.
Someone had been watching me.
For how long?
I flipped the next photograph over.
There was a date.
Three months ago.
On the back, six words were written.
*“She still trusts him completely.””*
My breath caught.
I grabbed the next photograph.
Derek.
Standing beside Rachel.
Outside a hotel.
His hand was resting on her waist.
I looked at the date.
Two years ago.
The month before Rachel left my company.
I dropped the photograph.
Derek's voice came through the door.
“Please listen to me.””
I opened the door.
He stood there, pale and sweating.
“You knew.””
He shook his head.
“You didn't understand.””
“You were sleeping with Rachel.””
“It wasn't like that.””
“It was exactly like that.””
“She wanted money.””
I laughed.
“You always have an explanation.””
He stepped inside.
“I was angry.””
“At me?””
“At the company.””
“You cheated on me because of my company?””
“No.””
“Then why?””
He looked at the photographs in my hand.
“Because Rachel knew things.””
“What things?””
“About your business.””
“That doesn't explain the affair.””
He swallowed.
“She offered me information.””
“What kind?””
“Client information. Contract details. Renewal schedules.””
My face hardened.
“You sold my confidential information.””
“I didn't sell it.””
“You traded it.””
He looked away.
“How much?””
“What?””
“How much did Rachel pay you?””
“Nothing.””
“Then what did she promise?””
He stayed silent.
I stepped closer.
“What did she promise you?””
“That she'd help me buy into your company.””
I stared.
“You wanted ownership.””
“Yes.””
“And she promised to help you get it.””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you just ask me?””
He gave a bitter laugh.
“You never would have said yes.””
I nodded.
“Correct.””
The office suddenly felt unbearable.
I turned back to the drawer.
There were more documents underneath the photographs.
I pulled them out.
Corporate filings.
A handwritten list of passwords.
Copies of emails.
A spreadsheet.
And one document that made my blood run cold.
A preliminary ownership transfer agreement.
My company.
My name.
Derek's name.
Rachel's name.
I read it twice.
Rachel wasn't trying to help Derek buy my company.
She was trying to replace me.
I looked at him.
“You and Rachel were going to remove me.””
Derek's eyes filled with panic.
“It never happened.””
“Because I found out?””
“No.””
“Then why?””
“Because Rachel disappeared.””
“Where did she go?””
“I don't know.””
I held up the photographs.
“Victor said she contacted him.””
Derek shook his head.
“She contacted everyone.””
“What does that mean?””
“She was selling information.””
“To who?””
“I don't know.””
“You do.””
“No.””
I stepped toward him.
“Who was she working for?””
Derek's lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Then a sound came from downstairs.
A knock.
Three slow knocks against the front door.
Derek froze.
I looked at him.
“Who is that?””
He whispered, “I don't know.””
Another three knocks.
This time harder.
I walked into the hallway.
Derek followed.
We reached the staircase.
Linda was standing at the bottom.
She looked terrified.
“Don't answer it,” she whispered.
I stopped.
“Why?””
She stared at the front door.
“Because it's them.””
“Who?””
She didn't answer.
The knock came again.
Then a man's voice.
“Mrs. Mercer.””
Derek flinched.
I knew the voice.
Victor.
I descended the stairs.
Linda grabbed my arm.
“Don't.””
I pulled away.
“I need to know what he wants.””
Victor called through the door.
“Megan, open the door.””
I unlocked it.
Victor stood on the porch.
He looked at Derek.
Then at Linda.
Then at me.
“You found the drawer.””
My heart stopped.
“How do you know?””
“Because I was the one who had it sealed.””
I stared.
“You put that drawer there?””
“No.””
“Then how did you know?””
Victor stepped inside.
“Because the person who hired me told me everything you would find.””
I held up the black envelope.
“Who hired you?””
He looked at Derek.
Derek lowered his eyes.
“You know,” Victor said.
I shook my head.
“No.””
Victor looked at Linda.
“She knows.””
Linda's face collapsed.
I turned to her.
“Who?””
She started crying again.
“Linda.””
She whispered one word.
“Your father.””
I stopped breathing.
“My father?””
She nodded.
I stared at her.
“My father has been dead for eight years.””
“I know.””
“Then what are you talking about?””
Victor spoke quietly.
“Your father's estate.””
I frowned.
“He left an account.””
Linda nodded.
“An account you never knew existed.””
I felt dizzy.
“What account?””
“One containing the original funding for your company.””
I turned toward Linda.
“My company was funded by my father?””
“Yes.””
“How much?””
She looked down.
“Five hundred thousand dollars.””
I stared.
“My father left me half a million dollars?””
“Yes.””
“And you knew?””
“I knew about the account.””
“How?””
Linda swallowed.
“Your father asked me to help him keep it protected.””
“Why would my father ask you?””
She hesitated.
“Because he didn't trust Derek.””
I looked at my husband.
His face had gone completely white.
“You knew my father?””
Derek slowly nodded.
“How?””
“Through your mother.””
I looked at Linda.
She whispered, “He came to me before you married.””
My heart hammered.
“What did he say?””
“He told me Derek was not what he appeared to be.””
Derek looked furious.
“You promised not to tell her.””
“I promised your father.””
“You swore.””
“He is dead.””
“And that gives you permission to betray me?””
I stared at them.
“Stop.””
They both went silent.
I turned to Linda.
“What did my father know?””
She closed her eyes.
“That Derek had been stealing from you before you even married him.””
The words hit harder than anything else.
“Before we married?””
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Two years.””
My voice dropped.
“How much?””
Linda looked at Derek.
He couldn't speak.
Victor answered.
“Approximately one hundred thousand dollars.””
I felt numb.
Derek had been stealing before there was even a wedding.
Before the house.
Before my company.
Before the birthday.
Before everything.
I looked at him.
“You met me because of my money.””
“No.””
“You knew about the inheritance.””
“Yes.””
“You knew about my company.””
“Yes.””
“And you knew my father had left money.””
“Yes.””
My eyes filled with tears.
“But you still married me.””
Derek stepped toward me.
“I fell in love with you.””
“Did you?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you steal from me?””
“I was trying to get out.””
“Get out of what?””
“My father's business.””
I frowned.
“My father?””
“No. Mine.””
He stopped.
Then corrected himself.
“The debt my father left.””
I shook my head.
“This isn't making sense.””
Victor looked at me.
“It will.””
He reached into his pocket and handed me another envelope.
“This came from your father's estate.””
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
The paper was old.
The handwriting was unmistakably my father's.
I read the first line.
*Megan,*
I couldn't breathe.
The next line made my knees weak.
*If you're reading this, Derek has probably already shown you who he really is.*
I looked up.
Derek took one step backward.
I kept reading.
*I didn't trust him from the beginning.*
The letter continued.
My father wrote that before his death, he had discovered Derek was deeply involved with a network of private lenders and shell companies.
He had tried to confront him.
Derek had denied everything.
Then my father wrote something that made my hands go cold.
*I placed the money in an account controlled by a trustee. It can only be released if Megan's marriage becomes abusive, fraudulent, or financially coercive.*
I stared at the page.
Abusive.
Fraudulent.
Financially coercive.
Three things Derek had managed to accomplish in one morning.
At the bottom of the letter was a final paragraph.
*There is one more thing you need to know. The trustee is not Linda.*
I looked at Linda.
She was crying.
Victor looked at me.
“Keep reading.””
I did.
*The trustee is the person Derek fears most.*
A chill ran down my spine.
I looked toward the front door.
Then at Victor.
“Who?””
Victor didn't answer.
My phone buzzed.
A new message appeared.
Unknown number.
*Your father was right.*
Then another.
*The trustee is standing closer than you think.*
I looked around the room.
Linda.
Derek.
Victor.
No one moved.
Then I noticed something.
A woman was standing across the street.
Watching the house.
Dark coat.
Dark hair.
My breath stopped.
I knew her face.
Rachel.
May you like
She lifted her phone.
And smiled.
