Chapter 3 - The Son Who Inherited Everything
My stepbrother was drinking champagne beneath a portrait of Abraham Lincoln when I found him.
Trevor Mercer stood with two young executives, laughing loudly at something on his phone.
His tuxedo cost more than most junior soldiers made in a month.
His watch probably cost more than their cars.
He looked comfortable.
Untouchable.
Exactly the way Arthur had raised him to feel.
When Trevor spotted me, his laughter died.
The two executives followed his gaze.
One straightened.
"General Mercer."
I nodded.
"Gentlemen."
Trevor looked uncomfortable.
"Kate."
It was the first time he'd spoken my name without contempt since we were teenagers.
"We need to talk," I said.
He glanced around.
"Now?"
"Now."
One executive immediately stepped back.
"We'll give you two a minute."
Trevor watched them leave.
Then he took a long drink.
"Look, if this is about what happened outside..."
"It isn't."
He exhaled.
"Good. Because Dad gets like that when he's stressed."
"Does he?"
"You know how he is."
"I do."
Trevor shifted his weight.
"Then what do you want?"
I lowered my voice.
"Do you know Olivia Grant?"
The champagne glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
For a second, something flickered behind his eyes.
Recognition.
Then fear.
"Who?"
"Olivia Grant."
He shrugged.
"Should I?"
"She works for Mercer Defense Tech."
"Thousands of people work for Mercer Defense Tech."
"She's a senior compliance analyst."
"So?"
"She was photographed with you three days ago."
Trevor's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
His eyes moved toward the entrance.
Then toward the security officers standing near the hallway.
"Kate, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Then you won't mind explaining that photograph to federal investigators."
His face lost color.
"What investigators?"
I watched him.
"Trevor."
He swallowed.
"I didn't do anything."
"I haven't accused you of anything."
"Yeah, well, you sure sound like you're about to."
I took a step closer.
"Olivia Grant is missing."
The words hit him harder than I'd expected.
His hand trembled.
Champagne spilled onto his cuff.
"What?"
"Nobody has heard from her in forty-eight hours."
He stared at me.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Because..."
He stopped.
I didn't interrupt.
Trevor lowered his glass.
"Because she called me yesterday."
My pulse quickened.
"From where?"
"I don't know."
"What did she say?"
He looked toward the doorway again.
"She told me not to trust my father."
For a moment, the noise of the reception seemed to fade.
"Why would she tell you that?"
Trevor pressed his lips together.
"She found something."
"What?"
"I can't tell you here."
"Then we'll go somewhere private."
He shook his head.
"No. You don't understand."
"Make me understand."
He leaned closer.
"If Dad sees us talking, he'll know."
"Know what?"
Trevor looked at me with an expression I had never seen on his face before.
Not arrogance.
Not resentment.
Real terror.
"That I helped her."
An aide escorted us into a small private sitting room.
I had already advised Agent Shaw through a secure channel that Trevor claimed to have relevant information.
She told me not to conduct an investigative interview.
I understood.
I wasn't an investigator, and my family connection made the situation especially sensitive.
But Trevor was frightened, and he wanted to speak to me.
I could listen long enough to keep him safe.
"Start talking," I said.
He sat on the edge of a chair.
For several seconds, he stared at his hands.
Then he laughed bitterly.
"You know what's funny?"
"Not particularly."
"Dad used to tell me you were stupid."
I said nothing.
"He said you had everything. The best schools, the best connections, a guaranteed future. And you threw it away because you wanted to play soldier."
His eyes moved to the stars on my shoulders.
"He told me you'd be back within six months asking for money."
"He was wrong."
"No kidding."
Trevor rubbed his forehead.
"I spent my whole life trying not to disappoint him. Every job, every promotion, every decision. I did exactly what he wanted."
"And?"
"And now I think I've helped him do something terrible."
He looked up.
"Olivia contacted me about two weeks ago. She said she'd found discrepancies in archived Sentinel test records."
"What kind of discrepancies?"
"Certification dates. Supplier records. Equipment failure reports."
He swallowed.
"Some of the failures went back more than a decade."
I thought of Daniel.
"Did she identify who was responsible?"
"She said the records had been altered under executive authorization."
"Whose?"
Trevor looked at the floor.
"Dad's."
I remained still.
He continued.
"At first, I didn't believe her. I figured she was trying to blackmail the company."
"What changed your mind?"
"She showed me the original engineering reports."
His voice dropped.
"Kate, the early Sentinel units had a known vulnerability. Under certain signal conditions, they could display a secure connection even when critical transmissions weren't going through."
I stared at him.
"Did the company know before deployment?"
Trevor covered his face.
"Yes."
The word barely came out.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked the question that mattered.
"Did Arthur know?"
Trevor looked up, tears standing in his eyes.
"He signed the report."
I felt something inside me turn cold.
Not numb.
Focused.
"What happened to Olivia?"
"I helped her copy the files. She said she was going to the authorities. I told her to be careful."
"And yesterday?"
"She called me from a blocked number. Said someone had gotten into her apartment."
"Did she identify anyone?"
"No. She just said she couldn't go home."
"Where is she now?"
He shook his head.
"I swear I don't know."
I studied him.
Trevor had spent his entire life lying for Arthur.
But fear has a way of stripping people down to what they really are.
And right now, he looked like a frightened boy.
"Trevor, you need to tell Agent Shaw everything."
He nodded.
"I know."
I reached for the door.
"Wait."
I turned.
Trevor stood.
"There's something else."
"What?"
He reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.
Then he pulled out a slim black storage device.
"Olivia gave me this before she disappeared."
My heart began beating faster.
"What's on it?"
"I haven't opened everything."
"Trevor."
He looked miserable.
"There's a folder about Afghanistan."
I extended my hand, then stopped.
Evidence needed to be preserved properly.
"Don't give it to me. Give it directly to Agent Shaw."
He nodded.
"But Kate..."
"What?"
His eyes filled.
"Your name is in the files."
I felt my throat tighten.
"In what way?"
Trevor swallowed.
"Dad didn't just cover up the equipment failures."
I stared at him.
"He changed something about your mission."
I couldn't move.
"What are you saying?"
Trevor's voice broke.
"I'm saying the convoy that got attacked fourteen years ago might never have been sent through that valley if somebody hadn't changed the route."
A terrible silence filled the room.
I looked at the storage device in his hand.
"Who changed it?"
He opened his mouth.
Before he could answer, someone knocked sharply on the door.
Three times.
A man's voice followed.
"Trevor?"
My father.
"Open the door, son."
Trevor went white.
Arthur knocked again.
"I know you're in there with your sister."
May you like
Then his voice dropped into the same cold tone I remembered from childhood.
"And I know what you took from my office."
