Chapter 5 - Daniel Mercer Comes Back
Daniel chose a coffee shop two neighborhoods away.
Grace chose the table.
Near the window.
Near the door.
Denise sat at another table with her laptop open and a cup she barely touched.
Daniel’s lawyer did the same across the room.
Grace had insisted on that arrangement.
No one pretending this was casual.
No one pretending it was court.
Daniel arrived seven minutes early.
Grace knew it was him before he turned around.
His hair was shorter.
His shoulders were broader.
There was gray at one temple.
But his hands were the same.
He still rubbed his left thumb against the side of his index finger when he was nervous.
Grace hated noticing.
“Hi.”
She did not stand.
“Sit.”
Daniel sat.
For a few seconds neither spoke.
Then he looked at her face and said, “You look good.”
Grace laughed softly.
“No.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant. Don’t.”
Daniel nodded.
His eyes dropped to the table.
“I’m sorry.”
“That is a very large sentence.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
He nodded again.
Grace watched him.
There had been a time when she could read his moods from the angle of his shoulders.
Now she had to study him like a stranger.
“Why the building?”
Daniel breathed out slowly.
“I found the picture of Emily two years ago. Then I found where you worked. Then where you lived.”
Grace’s fingers went cold.
“You tracked me.”
“I searched public information.”
“That is tracking.”
“Fair.”
He kept saying that word.
Fair.
As if agreeing with the accusation made it smaller.
Grace said, “Then what?”
“I drove past the building three times.”
“You were in Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“You saw us?”
“No. I didn’t get out of the car.”
“Why not?”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“Because I heard Vincent still had people around the neighborhood.”
Grace felt anger rise.
“Vincent is not a weather system.”
“I know.”
“You keep talking about him as if he controls whether you pick up a phone.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“He told me if I came back—”
“Eight years ago.”
“He meant it.”
“Did you test that?”
“No.”
“Did you call me?”
“No.”
“Write?”
“No.”
“Email?”
“No.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I was ashamed.”
Grace sat back.
“Shame is not the same as being prevented.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
He did not answer.
That was an answer.
Grace looked at the small scar under his chin.
He had gotten it on a camping trip at twenty-two, tripping over a cooler after too much beer.
For years she had remembered that scar and imagined every possible way a man could disappear.
A car accident.
A river.
A body never identified.
Daniel had simply lived elsewhere.
She said, “Tell me what happened with Vincent.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Do you want the version where I was scared or the version where I was guilty?”
“The version where both are true.”
That seemed to surprise him.
He looked down.
“I owed money. Not to Vincent. To people I should never have borrowed from. I thought if I gave them something useful, they would back off.”
“The address.”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know Paul would be there that night.”
“But you knew somebody could be.”
“Yes.”
Grace swallowed.
“And my car?”
“I used it so mine wouldn’t be recognized.”
Grace stared at him.
“You put me in it.”
“I know.”
“No. You keep saying that like it happened to somebody else.”
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
Grace looked away.
That time she believed him.
Not because tears made him honest.
Because he finally sounded disgusted with himself.
“What did Vincent do?”
“He found me. Told me I could leave Chicago that night or stay and deal with what I’d done.”
“Deal how?”
Daniel’s eyes met hers.
“I don’t know.”
Grace believed that too.
“Did he threaten to kill you?”
“No.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No.”
“Did he say you could never contact me?”
Daniel hesitated.
Grace saw it.
“What exactly did he say?”
Daniel rubbed his thumb.
“He said, ‘Leave her out of your life before you get her hurt.’”
Grace sat very still.
Not the same as never contact Grace again.
Not the same as disappear forever.
A command.
A threat implied by who said it.
But also an excuse Daniel had expanded for years.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“Because I thought you would ask me to stay.”
“And?”
“I might have.”
Grace’s anger became cold.
“So you did what was easiest for you.”
“Yes.”
The word came out quickly this time.
No defense.
Grace looked across the room at Denise.
Denise did not look up.
She was listening anyway.
“Now the building.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“I bought property in Milwaukee first. Small stuff. Duplexes. Then a twelve-unit building. I got lucky with timing. I worked.”
“I did not ask for your résumé.”
“Right.”
He rubbed his hands.
“When I found you, I wanted to help.”
“So you tried to buy my home.”
“I thought if I owned it, I could make sure you were safe.”
Grace laughed in disbelief.
Daniel winced before she even spoke.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Vincent decided where you should live to keep me safe. You decided where I should live to help me. Neither one of you asked me.”
Daniel looked at the table.
“I told Patrick to talk to tenants about relocation packages.”
“He brought fake eviction papers.”
“I did not authorize that.”
“Then you hired badly.”
“Yes.”
“He brought a gun.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then you hired dangerously.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Grace did not feel victory.
Only exhaustion.
He looked at her.
“I want to meet Emily.”
Grace said, “She wants to meet you.”
His face changed so fast she almost looked away.
Hope could make people look younger.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Can I—”
“Not today.”
The hope stayed, but it steadied.
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
Daniel waited.
“Keep your distance from the building. Cooperate with the police. Let your company step out of the purchase until the owner and tenants sort this out.”
He nodded.
“And?”
“Stop sending me emotional texts at midnight.”
His mouth twitched.
“Okay.”
“Give Denise proof that Patrick worked for you and what his instructions were.”
“Okay.”
“And understand something.”
Daniel looked at her.
“If you meet Emily, she does not owe you love because you are sorry.”
His eyes dropped.
“I know.”
Grace stood.
This time Daniel stood too.
He did not try to hug her.
That mattered.
Outside, Grace walked three blocks before realizing Vincent was parked across the street.
Her anger arrived instantly.
She crossed between cars and yanked open his passenger door.
“What are you doing here?”
Vincent looked genuinely caught.
“That is becoming a theme.”
“Did you follow me?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Daniel’s lawyer’s office is two blocks away.”
“And?”
“I guessed.”
Grace stared at him.
“That is following with extra steps.”
Vincent sighed.
“I wanted to know you were safe.”
“I had Denise.”
“I know.”
“I had a public place.”
“I know.”
“I did not ask you.”
He looked at her.
“I know.”
Grace shook her head.
“You learned the sentence. Not the lesson.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
That hit.
Good.
She shut the door.
Then reopened it.
“One more thing.”
He looked up.
“Daniel says you told him to leave me before he got me hurt.”
Vincent said nothing.
“You did not tell him never to contact me.”
“No.”
“So he made that part bigger because it helped him.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me believe you had more control over his disappearance than you actually did.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
Not at her.
At himself.
“Yes.”
Grace nodded.
“Both of you like power when it excuses guilt.”
She closed the door and walked away.
May you like
Vincent did not follow.
This time, he did not even start the car until she turned the corner.
