Chapter 12: The Granddaughter Who Grew Up Beside the Enemy
Abigail sat motionless for nearly a minute.
Her daughter was alive.
For fifty-one years, she had believed that child had died.
And all along, the little girl had been raised by Franklin Mercer.
"Does Victoria know?"" I asked.
Abigail shook her head.
"I don't know.""
Officer Brooks took out his notebook.
"Do you have contact information for her?""
Abigail nodded slowly.
"She's a prosecutor in Dallas.""
Caleb stared.
"Franklin raised a prosecutor?""
Abigail gave a bitter laugh.
"Apparently.""
I looked at her.
"Have you ever met her?""
"Twice. At professional conferences. She introduced herself as Franklin's stepdaughter.""
Abigail closed her eyes.
"She was standing three feet away from me, and I didn't know.""
I placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You're going to find her.""
She looked at me.
"What if she hates me?""
I shook my head.
"Then you'll give her time. But she deserves to know the truth.""
Officer Brooks interrupted gently.
"We need to be careful. If Victoria is connected to Franklin's household, we can't assume she knows about the adoption fraud.""
Abigail nodded.
"I understand.""
He made several calls.
Within an hour, investigators confirmed that Victoria Mercer was legally adopted by Franklin and his wife in 1975.
The adoption had been finalized through a private agency.
But there was a problem.
The original birth certificate listed the child's mother as Margaret Collins.
Not Abigail.
Abigail stared at the document.
"That's impossible. I was the mother.""
Officer Brooks examined it.
"Someone falsified the original records.""
Caleb pointed to a handwritten notation.
"Look at the date.""
The adoption papers had been signed six months before the supposed birth.
Abigail's face tightened.
"They arranged everything in advance.""
"That suggests planning," Officer Brooks said.
I thought of Robert's recording.
His warning.
His anger.
His words about a stolen child.
"Did Robert know?"" I asked.
Abigail nodded slowly.
"He discovered the truth after he found the medical records. That's why he started investigating Franklin.""
"Then why didn't he tell you?""
"He did. He told me he had found something connected to my birth. But before he could explain, he died.""
She wiped her eyes.
"He must have known Victoria was alive.""
Caleb examined the file.
"There's a note here from Robert.""
He read it aloud.
*The child must be returned to her mother when the time is right. Franklin believes he owns everyone he helps. He is wrong.*
Abigail pressed her fingers against her lips.
"Why didn't he tell me?""
"Maybe he was trying to get her back safely," I said.
She nodded.
"Maybe.""
Officer Brooks received another call.
His expression changed.
"What?""
He listened.
Then he stood.
"Repeat that.""
He looked toward us.
"Franklin Mercer has filed an emergency petition to have Eleanor Whitmore declared mentally incompetent.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"On what grounds?""
"He claims you're suffering from memory impairment and are being manipulated by Caleb Dawson and Abigail Collins.""
Caleb laughed without humor.
"He's using the same trick again.""
Officer Brooks continued.
"He's requesting temporary control of your finances and medical decisions.""
I stared at him.
"Can he do that?""
"Anyone can file a petition. Whether it succeeds is another matter.""
I thought about the papers Greg had brought to my house.
The power of attorney.
The false concern.
The way they had laughed when I corrected them at the auction.
It had all been planned.
"Franklin wants me declared incompetent because I'm the only person who can access Robert's evidence.""
Officer Brooks nodded.
"That is one possibility.""
I looked at Caleb.
"Then we need to move faster.""
He agreed.
Abigail picked up her phone.
"I want to contact Victoria.""
Officer Brooks cautioned her.
"Let the investigators handle the initial approach.""
But Abigail shook her head.
"I've waited fifty-one years. I'm not waiting another day.""
She searched for Victoria's number.
Then she called.
The phone rang four times.
A woman's voice answered.
"Victoria Mercer speaking.""
Abigail froze.
"Hello?""
"My name is Abigail Collins.""
There was a pause.
"How can I help you?""
Abigail swallowed.
"I believe I'm your biological mother.""
Silence.
Then Victoria laughed nervously.
"I'm sorry?""
"I know this sounds impossible. But I have documents from St. Matthew's Hospital.
I was nineteen when you were born. My mother told me you died.""
Victoria's voice became colder.
"Who gave you this number?""
"Your adoptive father arranged your adoption.""
Another pause.
"Are you talking about Franklin?""
"Yes.""
Victoria's breathing changed.
"Listen carefully. I don't know who you are, but my father has told me about people who would try to exploit our family.""
Abigail began crying.
"I'm not asking you for money. I don't want anything from you. I just want you to know that I never abandoned you.""
Victoria replied quietly:
"Then why didn't you look for me?""
"Because I was told you were dead.""
"That's convenient.""
The call ended.
Abigail lowered the phone.
I reached for her hand.
"She needs time.""
Abigail nodded, but tears ran down her cheeks.
Then her phone rang again.
An incoming message.
It was from Victoria.
*I don't believe you. But I found something in my father's office this morning. A file with your name on it.*
A second message appeared.
*There are photographs inside. One shows you holding a newborn baby.*
Abigail gasped.
A third message arrived.
*My father told me my mother died in childbirth. He lied about that too.*
We all stared at the screen.
Then Victoria sent one final message.
*I want to meet you. But don't tell my father.*
Abigail pressed the phone against her chest.
For the first time that day, she smiled through her tears.
But the moment didn't last.
Officer Brooks received an urgent call.
He listened.
Then he looked at me.
"Mrs. Whitmore, we have a serious problem.""
"What now?""
"Franklin's attorney has submitted documents claiming that Robert transferred ownership of the veterans' relief evidence to Greg before his death.""
"That's impossible.""
"There's a signed document.""
Caleb took the papers from him.
He studied the signature.
Then his face hardened.
"This is forged.""
Officer Brooks nodded.
"We suspect the same. But until we establish that, the court may freeze access to the bank materials.""
I looked at the document.
It carried Robert's signature.
But the date was wrong.
Robert had died on March 18.
The transfer was dated March 22.
I pointed to it.
"My husband was already dead.""
Officer Brooks nodded.
"Exactly. Which means this document could become very important evidence.""
Then Caleb noticed something at the bottom.
A witness signature.
He leaned closer.
I watched his face change.
"Who is it?"" I asked.
He turned the paper toward me.
The name was written clearly.
*Patricia Collins.*
Abigail stood.
"That's impossible. Patricia never witnessed any transfer.""
Caleb shook his head.
"There's something worse.""
He pointed to the second signature.
*Eleanor Whitmore.*
My name.
My handwriting.
My signature.
I stared at it in disbelief.
"I never signed this.""
Officer Brooks examined the document.
"Then someone forged your signature too.""
I looked at Abigail.
Then at Caleb.
Franklin wasn't simply trying to steal Robert's evidence.
He was trying to make it appear that everyone who knew the truth had already agreed to bury it.
And now he had placed my name on a document that could send me to prison.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Greg.
*Mom, don't sign anything. Franklin has a copy of the original document. And there's something I need to tell you about the night Dad died.*
Another message followed.
*I was in the room when he made his final decision.*
I stared at those words.
For twenty years, I had believed Robert died while surrounded by strangers.
May you like
Now my son was telling me he had been there.
And whatever happened in that room, Greg had never told me the truth.
