Chapter 12 - THE PRICE OF GETTING THE TRUTH.
Mercer’s lawyers responded to Naomi’s preservation demand in ninety minutes.
That alone told Blake what money could do.
He had spent four hours the previous week trying to get a hospital billing department to correct Emily’s middle initial.
Mercer received a legal demand and assembled a response before lunch.
The letter denied wrongdoing.
Denied evidence destruction.
Denied that Emily had any legitimate claim against Mercer.
Denied that Ruth Holloway’s property dispute established broader misconduct.
Then it offered cooperation.
Carefully.
The company would preserve identified systems subject to reasonable scope.
Naomi read the letter aloud.
“Translation?” Blake asked.
“They’ll fight over what ‘identified’ and ‘reasonable’ mean.”
“Can we get the drives?”
“Not voluntarily, apparently.”
“So court.”
“Possibly.”
“Money.”
“Yes.”
Blake looked at the latest invoice.
Naomi closed the folder.
“You can stop.”
“No.”
“You can ask law enforcement to carry more of this.”
“They’re investigating the crash.”
“And possibly fraud.”
“Possibly.”
Naomi smiled faintly.
“You hate that word.”
“I do.”
Emily came home from rehabilitation two weeks later.
Home was not home anymore.
Not physically.
The front steps were impossible.
The downstairs bathroom doorway was narrow.
The bedroom was upstairs.
They rented a medical bed.
Borrowed a ramp.
Moved furniture.
Blake learned how many ordinary houses were designed for bodies that worked exactly as expected.
Emily hated the ramp most.
“It looks temporary.”
“It is temporary.”
“That’s why I hate it.”
Blake understood.
Temporary objects could feel like predictions.
He did not argue.
Ruth arrived with a casserole.
Dana brought paper plates.
Emily stared at them.
Dana noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring at the plates.”
Emily smiled.
“After everything, paper plates feel politically complicated.”
Dana laughed.
Ruth said, “Eat your casserole.”
For an hour, they were not evidence sources.
They were women sitting around a kitchen talking about therapy appointments, grocery prices, bad coffee, and whether Blake had any idea how to use a slow cooker.
He did not.
Ruth looked personally offended.
Then a courier arrived.
Certified envelope.
Mercer’s attorneys.
Naomi had warned them.
Still, Emily’s face changed when Blake opened it.
A cease-and-desist demand.
It accused Emily of making false and damaging statements about Mercer Development and Travis Mercer.
It referenced her statement that Travis was “stealing land.”
Blake stared at the page.
“How do they know she said that?”
Emily went pale.
Ruth stopped eating.
Dana looked between them.
“Where did you say it?”
Blake answered.
“Hospital.”
Emily’s hand tightened around the table edge.
Only Blake had heard.
Unless Travis had heard from the doorway.
He had entered seconds later.
Maybe he had been closer before stepping into view.
Maybe someone else had repeated it.
Maybe the recorder itself had been active.
Blake looked at the device sitting in Naomi’s evidence bag across the room.
Red light.
Emily had revealed it blinking.
“Was it recording?” he asked.
Emily stared at him.
“I don’t know.”
“During the hospital conversation?”
“I thought I turned it off before.”
Blake walked toward the bag.
Naomi had kept the original secure but allowed them a forensic copy.
He checked the file list.
There was a hospital recording.
Twenty-seven minutes.
Emily covered her mouth.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Blake played the beginning.
His own voice.
What recordings?
Emily.
Travis was stealing land.
Then footsteps.
The entire hospital encounter had been captured.
Including Travis’s entrance.
Including his questions.
Including Emily saying she made copies.
Including his response.
Copies of what?
Naomi listened later that afternoon.
“This is useful.”
Blake frowned.
“For what?”
“Context.”
“It proves he heard her.”
“No. It proves the recorder captured the statement before he visibly entered the room.”
“So he could have heard.”
“Yes.”
“Not did.”
“Correct.”
Blake almost laughed.
Emily looked exhausted.
Then Naomi continued.
“There’s something else.”
She replayed the audio.
Before Travis entered, a sound occurred in the hallway.
Very faint.
A male voice.
Too distant to understand fully.
Audio enhancement improved only fragments.
“…room…”
“…awake…”
Then footsteps.
Travis appeared.
Could have been him speaking to someone.
Could have been unrelated staff.
No conclusion.
Naomi refused to speculate.
The cease-and-desist mattered for another reason.
It identified Emily’s hospital statement almost word for word.
Naomi wrote back asking Mercer’s attorneys to identify the basis for attributing that exact statement to Emily.
Their reply came the next day.
They had received it from Travis.
So Travis had heard.
That was now established.
Not sinister by itself.
He had been nearby.
But it confirmed his interest began before he could have known what the recorder contained.
Travis requested a private meeting.
Naomi advised against it.
Emily surprised everyone.
“I want to hear what he says.”
Blake shook his head immediately.
“No.”
Emily looked at him.
“My legs are broken. My judgment isn’t.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You said no like you were deciding.”
Blake stopped.
She was right.
He hated that she was right.
Naomi suggested a controlled meeting in her office.
Recorded with consent.
Travis could bring counsel.
They agreed.
Two days later, Travis arrived with Everett Shaw.
No flowers this time.
Travis looked at Emily’s wheelchair.
His expression softened.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
Emily answered, “Are you?”
Shaw intervened.
“We’re not here for accusations.”
Naomi said, “Then let’s stay with facts.”
They discussed Ruth.
Travis insisted the company purchased interests in good faith.
Discussed Dana.
Travis said easement disputes were ordinary.
Discussed Parcel Seventeen.
Travis claimed he had no personal memory of the file.
Then Emily asked:
“What does C-17 mean?”
Travis stopped moving.
Only for a fraction.
Blake saw it.
Naomi saw it.
Emily definitely saw it.
Shaw spoke first.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
Emily did not look at him.
“Travis?”
Travis leaned back.
“Old internal terminology.”
“For what?”
“Escalated acquisitions.”
“Your father created it?”
“I believe so.”
“You still use it?”
“Not in any meaningful sense.”
“What does it authorize?”
Travis smiled faintly.
“Emily, companies have internal processes. That isn’t a crime.”
“I didn’t ask if it was a crime.”
The smile faded.
“What does it authorize?”
Travis looked at Naomi.
Then back at Emily.
“Using every lawful option to resolve property obstacles.”
Emily stared at him.
“Every lawful option.”
“Yes.”
“And if an option isn’t lawful?”
Shaw interrupted.
“That question assumes facts not established.”
Emily nodded.
“You’re right.”
Shaw looked almost surprised.
Then Emily continued.
“So let me ask a fact question.”
She placed Ruth’s edited audio report on the table.
“Who cut forty-one seconds from a longer recording and put it in Ruth Holloway’s file as proof she agreed to sell?”
Travis looked at the report.
For the first time since entering the hospital weeks earlier, his smile disappeared completely.
“I have no idea.”
Emily watched him.
Then Naomi slid another document beside it.
A digital access log Daniel’s attorney had produced that morning.
The file had been uploaded under one user account.
Not Daniel’s.
Not Charles Mercer’s.
Travis looked down.
The account name belonged to Colin Voss.
The land-acquisitions representative who had met Ruth.
Travis looked up slowly.
May you like
Then said something none of them expected.
“Colin’s dead.”
