Chapter 4: The Son Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Wade stared at his phone.
The unknown number continued ringing.
Nobody in the showroom moved.
Martha watched him carefully. She had known Wade for less than an hour, but she recognized the expression on his face. It was the look of a man standing at the edge of something he had spent decades avoiding.
"Are you going to answer it?"" Emily asked.
Wade swallowed.
"Not yet.""
The phone stopped.
A second later, a text message appeared.
*You still ride the same bike, old man?*
Wade's fingers tightened around the phone.
Only one person had ever called him that.
His son.
His only son, Daniel Mercer, had supposedly died in a motorcycle accident on October 20, 1996.
Wade remembered the phone call from the hospital. He remembered the detective explaining that the body had been badly damaged. He remembered identifying Daniel through a personal possession: a silver ring Wade had given him on his eighteenth birthday.
He remembered burying an empty casket.
And he remembered Frank Bell standing beside him at the cemetery, one hand resting on his shoulder.
"Your boy is gone, Wade," Frank had whispered.
"I'm sorry.""
Now, thirty years later, somebody was asking about his motorcycle.
"What's happening?"" Martha asked.
Wade showed her the message.
Emily read it twice.
"Could somebody be pretending to be him?""
"That's what I intend to find out.""
The phone rang again.
This time, Wade answered.
"Who is this?""
Static.
Then a man's voice.
"Still answering questions with questions, Dad?""
Wade's knees nearly buckled.
"Daniel?""
A pause.
"Hello, old man.""
Wade closed his eyes.
His voice came out broken.
"Where are you?""
"Somewhere safe.""
"You're alive?""
A bitter laugh came through the speaker.
"Depends on who you ask.""
Wade gripped the counter.
"I buried you.""
"No. You buried a story.""
Wade looked at Martha.
She was staring at him with tears gathering in her eyes.
"Daniel, listen to me. I need you to tell me where you are.""
"Not over the phone.""
"Your mother—"
"Don't.""
The word came sharply.
Wade stopped.
Daniel continued.
"Don't tell anyone else. Especially not Richard Bell.""
Wade looked toward the office.
"Richard knows you're alive?""
"He knows enough.""
"Then why did he let me believe you were dead?""
There was a long silence.
Finally, Daniel answered.
"Because he needed you to stop looking.""
Wade's breathing grew heavier.
"What happened that night?""
"I can't explain everything yet. But Frank tried to get me out.""
"Frank?""
"Your friend wasn't the man you thought he was, Dad.""
Wade frowned.
"What does that mean?""
"Frank saved my life. Then he disappeared so Richard couldn't find either of us.""
Wade stared at Martha.
Her hand had gone to her mouth.
"Where is Frank?"" Wade demanded.
"I don't know.""
The answer landed like a blow.
"You're telling me you've been alive all these years and you don't know where Frank is?""
"I was seventeen, Dad. I spent most of my life believing he was the only person who knew where I was.""
"Then why contact me now?""
"Because somebody found the motorcycle.""
Wade looked at the Harley.
"How do you know?""
"Because Richard called me twenty minutes ago.""
Wade's face hardened.
"What did he say?""
"He told me the woman had found the registration. He said the old recording might still exist.""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Listen carefully. There's something inside that motorcycle that wasn't in the cassette pouch.""
Wade looked toward the seat.
"We found the compartment.""
"Then you haven't found everything.""
"What are you talking about?""
"Frank built a second compartment. It's not under the seat. It's inside the fuel tank.""
Wade turned toward the motorcycle.
Martha stepped closer.
"What's inside?""
Daniel answered before Wade could.
"Proof.""
"Proof of what?""
"That Richard didn't just steal motorcycles. He was selling information about the people who bought them. He had a whole operation running through the dealership. Frank found the records, and that's why they came after him.""
Wade stared at the old Harley.
"Daniel, where are you?""
"I'll send you an address. Come alone.""
"I'm not coming alone.""
"Then don't come.""
The line went dead.
Wade immediately called back.
The number was disconnected.
Emily looked at him.
"Was that really your son?""
Wade nodded slowly.
"Yes.""
Martha sat down again.
"Frank saved him?""
"I think so.""
She looked at the photograph.
"Then Frank may still be alive.""
Wade didn't answer.
A message appeared on his phone.
It contained an address and a time.
*Tomorrow. 6:00 a.m. Old Riverside Storage. Bay 17.*
Below it was another message.
*Bring Martha Bell. She deserves to hear what happened to her husband.*
Emily read it.
"Mom, you're not going anywhere.""
Martha looked at her daughter.
"I've waited thirty years.""
"You don't know who we're dealing with.""
"Neither do you.""
Emily's expression softened.
"Mom, I'm not losing you too.""
Martha reached across the counter and took her hand.
"You aren't losing me. But I cannot spend another thirty years wondering whether your father was alive somewhere, waiting for someone to find him.""
Wade nodded.
"She's right.""
Emily turned toward him.
"You don't even know if this is really Daniel.""
Wade took the silver ring from beneath his shirt.
It hung from a thin chain around his neck.
"I gave him this ring when he turned eighteen. He was wearing it the night they told me he died.""
He opened his palm.
The ring was still there.
Emily looked confused.
"Then how could they identify him?""
Wade's eyes hardened.
"Because they said they found it on the body.""
Martha slowly understood.
"They had another ring.""
Wade nodded.
"Somebody wanted me to believe my son was dead.""
Before anyone could respond, Duke returned from the service entrance.
He was holding a small white envelope.
"Found this underneath the office door.""
Wade took it.
There was no stamp, no return address.
Only four words written across the front.
*STOP LOOKING FOR DANIEL.*
Inside was a photograph.
A recent photograph.
Daniel was standing outside a gas station, wearing a dark jacket.
Behind him stood Richard Bell.
And beside Richard was a man Wade recognized immediately.
Detective Arthur Collins.
On the back, somebody had written:
Your son isn't the only one who survived.
Wade slowly lowered the photograph.
For thirty years, he had believed he was attending one funeral.
May you like
Now he was beginning to suspect that three people had been declared dead for very different reasons.
And one of them might be Frank Bell.
