Chapter 4 - The Mistress Knew More Than She Claimed
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not that sleeping had been easy since the triplets came home.
But that night was different.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Daniel stepping through those airport doors with Vanessa wrapped around his arm.
Then I saw the luggage tag.
18 Cedar Ridge Lane.
And finally I heard Thomas’s voice.
Michelle Cole is Vanessa’s mother.
At 6:12 the next morning, I received a text.
From Vanessa.
We need to talk. Without Daniel.
I stared at it for almost a minute.
Rachel, who had slept on the couch because she refused to leave me alone, read the message over my shoulder.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I know what you should say.”
She took my phone.
Contact my attorney.
I grabbed it back.
“Rachel.”
“She was sleeping with your husband.”
“I know.”
“Living in your property.”
“I know.”
“Her mother apparently notarized forged documents.”
“I know.”
Rachel stared at me.
“Then why are we discussing this?”
Because something bothered me.
Vanessa’s reaction at the airport had looked real.
Her shock about the house.
Her panic over the missing money.
Her disgust when Daniel couldn’t remember his daughters’ names.
If she had participated knowingly, either she was a remarkable actress or Daniel had lied to her too.
Maybe both things could be true.
I responded.
My attorney will be present.
Vanessa replied immediately.
Fine. Today. Please.
Thomas agreed to meet us at his office at noon.
I left the girls with Rachel.
Walking into the law office alone felt strange.
For four months, I had barely gone anywhere except hospitals, doctors’ appointments, and grocery pickup.
Now I was preparing to confront my husband’s mistress about suspected financial crimes.
Life can change quickly.
Vanessa was already there.
Without the glamorous airport clothes, she looked different.
Younger.
Tired.
Her hair was tied back.
No red lipstick.
No smug smile.
She stood when I entered.
“Helen.”
I didn’t offer my hand.
Thomas entered from the adjoining office.
“Ms. Cole.”
Vanessa sat.
She placed a thick envelope on the table.
“I brought everything.”
Thomas looked at it.
“Everything concerning what?”
“Daniel.”
She opened the envelope.
Inside were printed emails, banking statements, travel reservations, and photographs.
I stared.
Vanessa took a shaky breath.
“I didn’t know you were still together.”
I said nothing.
“I know how that sounds.”
“Bad.”
“Yes.”
She looked down.
“Daniel told me you were separated.”
“When?”
“The second week of the cruise.”
That surprised me.
“You met him onboard?”
“Yes.”
“So you didn’t know him before?”
“No.”
Thomas asked, “And your mother?”
Vanessa looked confused.
“What about her?”
“Michelle Cole.”
“My mother?”
“She notarized a document claiming Helen granted Daniel financial power of attorney.”
Vanessa stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Thomas slid a copy across the table.
Vanessa read it.
Color disappeared from her face.
“That’s my mother's seal.”
“Did she notarize it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“My mother has been in rehabilitation therapy since January.”
I frowned.
“For what?”
“A stroke.”
The room went still.
Vanessa looked up.
“She can barely hold a pen.”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed.
“Where is her notary seal kept?”
“At her house.”
“Who has access?”
Vanessa’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
Finally she whispered, “Daniel.”
I felt a chill.
“How?”
Vanessa stared at the document.
“After we left Greece, he told me he needed some business paperwork notarized. He asked if I knew anyone.”
“And you mentioned your mother.”
“Yes.”
“I told him she used to be a notary, but she was recovering from a stroke and couldn’t work.”
Thomas leaned forward.
“Did you ever give him access to her home?”
Vanessa’s hands began shaking.
“Not intentionally.”
She looked at me.
“When the cruise stopped in Miami for three days, Daniel and I left the ship. My mother lives there.”
My stomach turned.
“He went to her house?”
“We both did.”
“Did your mother meet him?”
“Yes.”
“She liked him.”
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“She thought he was my boyfriend.”
“He was.”
“I thought he was separated.”
I looked away.
Vanessa continued.
“Daniel helped me clean some things out of my mother’s office. He was alone in there for maybe twenty minutes.”
Thomas sat back.
“That may have been enough.”
Vanessa looked sick.
“He stole her seal.”
“Possibly photographed or copied it,” Thomas said.
Then he looked through the documents Vanessa brought.
“What is Blue Meridian Holdings?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“He said we started it together.”
“Who registered it?”
“Daniel.”
“Whose name is on the documents?”
She pulled out another paper.
Thomas read it.
His eyebrows rose.
“Vanessa, this company is not registered to you.”
“What?”
“The majority member is Daniel Mercer.”
She leaned forward.
“No. He said fifty-fifty.”
Thomas turned another page.
“There is a second member.”
I stared.
“Who?”
He frowned.
“A company called North Coast Strategic Partners.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I've never heard of it.”
Neither had I.
Thomas made a note.
“We’ll look into it.”
Then Vanessa pushed several printed emails toward me.
“I need you to see these.”
I didn’t want to.
But I did.
They were messages between Daniel and Vanessa.
The first dated three weeks after departure.
My marriage has been dead for over a year.
Another:
Helen became obsessed with having children. We barely speak anymore.
I felt nauseated.
Another:
She knows I’m leaving. She’s only staying in the house because she wants money.
Then one that made my hands shake.
The pregnancy was never supposed to happen.
I stopped reading.
Vanessa looked miserable.
“I believed him.”
I kept staring at that sentence.
The pregnancy was never supposed to happen.
Our daughters.
Our miracle after two losses.
Reduced to an inconvenience.
Thomas asked Vanessa to explain the investment money.
She did.
Her father had died three years earlier, leaving her a modest inheritance.
She had approximately $120,000 remaining.
Daniel convinced her to invest in Blue Meridian.
“He showed me projections.”
“Did you verify them?”
“No.”
“Why?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Because I was in love.”
I understood that answer more than I wanted to.
Love makes intelligent people accept explanations they would reject from anyone else.
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
“He said Cedar Ridge was his inheritance.”
I asked, “Did you ever question why I supposedly lived in another house?”
“He said you lived in the family home but would leave after the divorce.”
“Which family home?”
“The house you live in now.”
I nodded slowly.
Daniel had created an entire parallel reality.
In his version, I was a greedy estranged wife.
Cedar Ridge belonged to him.
Our marital home belonged morally to him.
The babies were apparently something I had chosen without his approval.
And Vanessa was his new beginning.
But lies become difficult to maintain when the people being lied to finally sit at the same table.
Thomas spent nearly two hours reviewing documents.
Then he found something.
A wire transfer.
$40,000 from Vanessa to Blue Meridian.
Two days later, $38,500 left Blue Meridian.
Destination:
Pacific Crown Cruises Corporate Services.
Vanessa frowned.
“What is that?”
I looked at her.
“The cruise company?”
Daniel’s employer had supposedly paid everything.
Why would Blue Meridian send money to the cruise line?
Thomas studied the description.
“This doesn't look like vacation expenses.”
Then he found another transfer.
$15,000.
Same destination.
Another.
$26,000.
Vanessa stared.
“That’s nearly all my money.”
“Possibly,” Thomas said.
“But why?”
He called someone at the bank.
After a short conversation, his expression changed.
“Helen, did Daniel's company actually give him this cruise?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
“He showed me the award letter.”
“Do you have it?”
“At home.”
“Send me a photograph when you get back.”
Vanessa whispered, “What are you thinking?”
Thomas looked at us.
“I’m thinking Daniel may have lied about how this trip was financed.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone appears to have paid the cruise company from Blue Meridian.”
Vanessa’s face turned white.
“But Blue Meridian didn’t exist until we were already traveling.”
“Exactly.”
Thomas began making calls.
I went home.
An hour later, I found the award letter in Daniel’s desk.
I photographed it.
Then something occurred to me.
The letterhead looked slightly blurry.
At the time, I had assumed it was a bad printout.
Now I looked closely.
Daniel’s company logo.
The signature.
The title.
I searched the company website.
The executive listed as having signed the letter did not work in Daniel’s division.
I sent it to Thomas.
Thirty minutes later, he called.
“The letter is fake.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“I contacted Daniel’s employer through legal counsel.”
My mouth went dry.
“They never awarded him a cruise.”
I couldn't speak.
Thomas continued.
“In fact, Daniel requested an unpaid personal leave four months ago.”
I stared at the wall.
“So he paid for the trip himself?”
“Not necessarily himself.”
I thought about our missing money.
Vanessa’s missing inheritance.
“Then whose money?”
“We’re still determining that.”
The front doorbell rang.
Rachel opened it.
A courier stood outside.
He handed me a certified envelope.
My name was printed across the front.
Inside was a notice from a lender.
DEFAULT WARNING.
I read the first line twice.
Then a third time.
It concerned a loan for $240,000.
Borrower:
Helen and Daniel Mercer.
Collateral:
Our marital home.
My hands began shaking.
I called Thomas again.
“I found another loan.”
His tone sharpened.
“What loan?”
“Two hundred forty thousand dollars.”
“Did you sign for it?”
“No.”
“Send me everything immediately.”
I photographed each page.
Then I reached the final sheet.
There were two signatures.
Daniel’s.
And mine.
Except I had never signed it.
Below the signatures was a witness certification.
Not Michelle Cole.
Another name.
Someone I knew.
Someone I had trusted.
My eyes locked on the signature.
Robert Mercer.
Daniel’s father.
The man who had called me every week during my pregnancy asking whether I needed anything.
The man who had cried when I sent him photographs of his granddaughters.
Daniel hadn’t built this scheme alone.
May you like
His own father had helped him.
And if Thomas was right about the amount of money involved, the affair at the airport was about to become the least shocking part of my marriage.
