Chapter 6 - THE MORNING AFTERI woke at 6:11 the morning after Derek’s wedding to twenty-three missed calls.
I assumed most were reporters.
I was wrong.
Seven were from my father.
Four were from Hannah.
Three were from Patricia.
Nine were from numbers I didn’t recognize.
No messages from Derek.
I checked Noah first.
He was asleep in my father’s guest room, curled beneath a blue quilt with his stuffed dinosaur under one arm.
After leaving the Beaumont Grand, Richard had insisted we stay at his house.
I hadn’t slept there since I was eighteen.
The mansion felt smaller than memory.
Quieter too.
The portraits remained.
My mother’s piano remained.
Even the small scratch I had made on the staircase railing with a roller skate was still there.
I stood in Noah’s doorway for a long time.
Then my father appeared behind me.
“We have a problem.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Derek is missing.”
I followed him downstairs.
Marcus waited in the study with Agent Ross.
A laptop sat open.
Ross explained.
Derek had agreed to voluntary questioning the previous night.
His attorney arrived.
Derek answered basic questions, denied involvement, and left shortly after midnight.
At 2:40 a.m., his vehicle crossed a toll camera heading south.
At 3:17, his company credentials were used to attempt remote access.
At 3:24, one of the shell-company accounts transferred $386,000 to an offshore account.
I stared.
“I thought the accounts were frozen.”
“They were,” Ross said.
“This transfer came from a different account.”
Brittany.
“She disappeared too?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
Ross looked uncomfortable.
“Bridal suite.”
I blinked.
“She stayed?”
“She says Derek left without telling her.”
My father frowned.
“You believe her?”
“I believe she’s furious.”
That I could believe.
Ross turned his laptop.
Security footage showed Derek leaving the hotel through a kitchen entrance wearing a catering jacket.
“He planned this,” I said.
“Possibly.”
“Then why marry Brittany?”
“Access,” my father said.
I looked at him.
“Her name was on accounts. If investigators found them first, she became the obvious suspect.”
I felt sick.
Derek hadn’t merely used his son.
He had used his bride.
That didn’t make Brittany innocent.
But it changed the shape of things.
“What happens now?”
Ross closed the laptop.
“We find him.”
My phone rang.
Patricia.
I answered.
“Emily?”
Her voice shook.
“Yes?”
“Derek called me.”
Everyone in the room looked at me.
“When?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked for money.”
Ross gestured for speakerphone.
I put Patricia on speaker.
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“Did he say where he was?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
“He asked about Noah.”
My stomach tightened.
“What about Noah?”
“He asked whether Noah was with you.”
Ross wrote something.
“Did you tell him?”
“No. I said I didn’t know.”
“Good.”
Patricia began crying.
“Emily, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For raising him to think consequences were optional.”
I didn’t know how to answer.
She continued.
“His father always protected him. School fights. Drunk driving in college. Jobs. Every time Derek made a mistake, someone cleaned it up.”
My father looked away.
Perhaps because the words touched something in him too.
“Don’t send him money,” Ross said.
Patricia inhaled.
“Who is that?”
“Federal investigator.”
“Oh.”
“Mrs. Callahan, if your son calls again, keep him talking. Don’t confront him. Contact me immediately afterward.”
She agreed.
After the call, my father said, “Noah needs security.”
I frowned.
“Derek isn’t dangerous.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He’s selfish, not violent.”
“Desperate people change.”
I hated that he was right.
Marcus arranged security at the house and school.
Then my phone began ringing again.
This time it was Hannah.
“Do not look at Facebook.”
“I already know the video is everywhere.”
“You don’t know all of it.”
She sent me a link.
Someone had uploaded the entire section of Derek’s wedding speech.
Not only the insult.
Everything.
He described me as “chronically unemployed.”
He claimed I manipulated Noah.
He joked that he hoped Brittany’s future children would “inherit ambition instead of excuses.”
Then came the line:
“At least now I don’t have to pretend fatherhood is the most rewarding job in the world.”
The room had laughed weakly.
Then Derek added:
“Trust me, some jobs are better outsourced.”
I stopped the video.
My hands shook.
My father reached for the phone.
I pulled it away.
“No.”
“You don’t need to watch.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because Noah might someday.”
That silenced him.
The comments were brutal.
Not toward me.
Toward Derek.
Millions of strangers were angry on my behalf.
That didn’t make me feel better.
I kept thinking about Noah.
Six years old.
He loved pancakes shaped like dinosaurs.
He still mispronounced “specific” as “pacific.”
He believed hiding under blankets made him invisible.
And his father had turned him into viral content.
I called Hannah.
“Can we get the videos removed?”
“Some. Not all.”
“I don’t want Noah’s face everywhere.”
“Most clips don’t show him clearly.”
“Most isn’t enough.”
“We’ll send privacy requests.”
By lunchtime, another problem emerged.
Mercer Atlantic’s stock dropped six percent.
News networks linked the fraud investigation to my father.
Commentators questioned why Richard Mercer’s son-in-law had been allowed access to sensitive accounts.
“He wasn’t your son-in-law when the fraud started,” I said.
My father sat at the breakfast table reading financial reports.
“Facts are slower than headlines.”
“You need a statement.”
“Communications is preparing one.”
“Say you discovered it internally.”
“We did.”
“Say law enforcement was already involved before the wedding.”
“We will.”
He looked at me.
“Emily, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“This became public.”
“You didn’t upload the video.”
“But my company put Derek in a position where he could steal.”
“You didn’t make him steal.”
My father smiled faintly.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“That is exactly what I’ve been telling you about the marriage.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“You keep talking as though hiding your identity caused Derek’s behavior.”
I looked down.
“If I had told him—”
“He would have treated you better?”
“Maybe.”
“That isn’t better.”
I knew what he meant.
Love dependent on knowing my father’s net worth was not love.
Still, regret lingered.
Before I could answer, Marcus entered.
“We found Derek’s car.”
“Where?”
“Savannah.”
“Derek?”
“No.”
The SUV was abandoned near a marina.
Inside police found a jacket, two phones, and a passport belonging to Victor Lang.
Not Derek.
Then Ross called.
Victor had been arrested at Charleston International Airport.
He was attempting to board a flight to Mexico City.
Derek had apparently taken Victor’s passport by mistake—or deliberately planted it.
Either way, Victor panicked.
And panicked conspirators talk.
Within six hours, Victor agreed to cooperate.
The fraud was larger than expected.
Nearly $4.7 million over eighteen months.
Brittany controlled three vendor companies.
Her brother controlled one.
Derek had approved payments.
Victor bypassed internal reviews.
Calvin processed invoices.
But there was one transaction Victor claimed he knew nothing about.
A payment of $386,000.
The money missing after Derek disappeared.
It wasn’t company money.
It came from an account in Noah’s name.
I stared at Ross across my father’s study.
“That’s impossible.”
“Did Derek ever manage a custodial account for your son?”
“No.”
“College fund?”
I froze.
During our marriage, Derek’s parents had opened one.
Patricia contributed.
So had I.
Derek was listed as co-custodian.
“How much was in it?” Ross asked.
My voice barely worked.
“About four hundred thousand.”
My father stood.
“Derek stole from his own child.”
Ross nodded.
“It appears so.”
My phone rang again.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked at it.
I answered.
“Hello?”
For three seconds, only breathing.
Then Derek said:
“Emily.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“I need you to listen.”
“Where are you?”
“Is Noah safe?”
“You don’t get to ask that after stealing his money.”
Silence.
So he hadn’t expected us to know.
“I can explain.”
“Then start.”
“I borrowed it.”
“From a six-year-old?”
“I was going to replace it.”
“With what? More stolen money?”
“Emily, please.”
My father reached for the phone.
Ross shook his head.
Keep him talking.
I forced my voice calm.
“What do you want?”
Derek breathed heavily.
Then said something I didn’t expect.
May you like
“I want to come home.”
And despite everything, part of me believed him.
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