The laboratory found traces of two medications in Ellie Mercer’s blood.
One was promethazine.
The other was lorazepam, a prescription sedative.
Neither had been prescribed to Ellie.
Dr. Brooks delivered the information carefully.
“At the levels we’re seeing, I don’t expect lasting harm. But someone needs to determine how a seven-year-old repeatedly obtained medications that weren’t prescribed to her.”
Martin already had an idea.
A terrible one.
Elena contacted the district attorney’s office.
Within forty minutes, investigators were preparing warrant applications for the Mercer home.
But first there was the woman at the station.
Martin and Elena returned together.
Daniel Mercer was waiting beneath the awning outside.
He was taller than Martin expected, broad-shouldered, with rainwater running from his dark jacket. His expression carried the strained impatience of a parent who wanted everyone to believe he was worried.
Beside him stood a thin woman with dark blond hair.
She looked exhausted.
Martin had studied Laura Whitmore’s photograph dozens of times over the past hour.
This woman resembled her.
But resemblance was not identification.
Daniel approached the glass.
“My children are inside.”
Martin remained on the opposite side of the locked door.
“They’re safe.”
“I want to see them.”
“They’re receiving medical care.”
Daniel’s expression shifted.
“Where?”
Martin ignored the question.
“Who is the woman with you?”
Daniel glanced over his shoulder.
“She can explain.”
The woman stepped forward.
“My name is Laura Whitmore.”
Elena studied her.
“Do you have identification?”
“No.”
“Where have you been for five months?”
The woman looked at Daniel.
That single glance told Martin more than her answer.
“I left.”
“Why?”
“Personal reasons.”
“You abandoned your car?”
“Yes.”
“Your family?”
Her jaw tightened.
“I needed to disappear.”
Elena’s voice remained level.
“And you chose to reappear today with Daniel Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he called me.”
Martin watched Daniel.
“How did you know the girls were at our station?”
Daniel’s mouth hardened.
“I tracked Avery’s backpack.”
Airtag.
Possible.
“Where’s the tracker?”
“In the lining.”
Martin made a mental note.
“Why?”
“Because they’re children.”
Elena asked, “Why does a seven-year-old have medication prescribed to Laura Whitmore hidden in her shoe?”
For the first time, Daniel lost control of his face.
Only for a second.
But Martin saw it.
Laura did too.
She went pale.
Daniel recovered.
“I have no idea.”
Laura looked at him.
“Medication?”
Daniel did not answer her.
Elena turned toward Laura.
“Were you prescribed promethazine approximately six months ago?”
“I…”
Laura swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did you give it to Daniel Mercer?”
“No.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward her.
Martin saw fear move between them.
Not partnership.
Fear.
Elena stepped closer to the glass.
“Laura, do you want to come inside without him?”
Daniel spoke immediately.
“She’s fine.”
Elena never looked at him.
“I asked Laura.”
Laura stared at the locked door.
Then at Daniel.
Then she nodded.
Daniel caught her wrist.
Martin’s hand went immediately toward the door release.
“Let go of her.”
Daniel released her.
“Don’t make this something it isn’t.”
Martin unlocked only the inner vestibule door and allowed Laura through while two deputies positioned themselves nearby.
Daniel remained outside.
“You can’t keep me from my kids!”
Martin looked at him.
“We can while they’re under emergency protective supervision.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Who authorized that?”
“Briarwood County Children and Youth Services.”
“This is insane.”
“Then give us time to clear it up.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“My daughters need me.”
Behind Martin, Laura whispered:
“No, they don’t.”
Everyone turned.
Daniel stared through the glass at her.
Laura’s entire body began trembling.
Elena guided her toward an interview room.
Once the door closed, Laura started crying.
Not loudly.
It looked almost painful, as though she had forgotten how.
“He told me they never went into the basement.”
Martin sat across from her.
“Laura, where have you been?”
She covered her face.
“At his cabin.”
Elena leaned forward.
“Whose cabin?”
“Daniel’s father’s old hunting cabin. North of Pine Ridge.”
“Were you there voluntarily?”
Laura shook her head.
“No.”
The room went silent.
“Start wherever you can.”
Laura took several breaths.
She had met Megan Mercer eighteen months earlier at Briarwood Hospice, where Laura worked as a nurse.
Megan’s mother had been dying of pancreatic cancer.
Laura helped care for her.
After Megan’s mother passed, the women remained friends.
“Megan was scared of Daniel,” Laura said.
“Did she say why?”
“He controlled everything. Money. Her phone. Who she saw. She thought he was putting something in her drinks.”
Martin thought of the twins.
“What kind of something?”
“She didn’t know.”
Laura helped Megan arrange blood testing privately.
Before the results came back, Megan died.
The official ruling was accidental.
Laura did not believe it.
She began asking questions.
Daniel found out.
“One night after work, he was waiting near my car.”
Laura’s voice became distant.
“He said one of the girls was sick and Megan had told him I could help.”
“You went with him?”
“I was stupid.”
“No,” Elena said calmly. “You responded to what sounded like a sick child.”
Laura looked grateful for the distinction.
Daniel drove her to the Mercer home.
There was no sick child.
“He hit me.”
Laura touched the side of her head unconsciously.
“When I woke up, I was in that room.”
“The hidden basement room?”
“Yes.”
Martin felt his stomach knot.
“How long?”
“Four days.”
“And the twins heard you?”
“I heard children outside once. I yelled.”
“What happened?”
“Daniel panicked.”
Laura began crying again.
“He said his daughters had seen too much. He gave them something that night. Then he moved me.”
“To the cabin?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he kill you?”
Laura stared at the table.
“Because I told him I had evidence about Megan stored somewhere safe.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
“Did you?”
“No.”
Laura gave a broken laugh.
“I lied.”
It saved her life.
For months, Daniel demanded to know where the supposed evidence was.
Laura kept inventing delays.
A password.
A safety-deposit box.
A lawyer.
A friend who would release information if she disappeared.
“He believed enough of it to keep me alive.”
“How did he explain you appearing today?”
Laura looked toward the door.
“This morning he came to the cabin furious. He said his daughters were missing and police might search his house.”
Martin understood.
“He needed you alive and visible.”
“To destroy the kidnapping case.”
Elena nodded slowly.
“If you appeared voluntarily, he could claim the belongings at his house were there because you were involved with him.”
“That’s exactly what he told me to say.”
“Why did you agree?”
Laura’s answer came instantly.
“Because he said he’d find the girls first if I didn’t.”
Martin stood.
The warrant could not come quickly enough.
Outside, Daniel had begun pacing.
Then he stopped.
He looked through the glass directly at Martin.
And smiled.
It was not a broad smile.
Just the expression of a man who believed the police were still several moves behind him.
Martin’s phone rang.
Detective Ruiz answered hers at the same time.
A patrol unit had reached 17 Hawthorne Lane to secure the perimeter pending the warrant.
The front door was open.
Nobody was inside.
But smoke was coming from the basement.
Daniel had prepared for this.
“Fire department,” Elena snapped.
Units moved.
Martin looked toward the front doors.
Daniel was gone.
“Where is he?”
Rachel stood abruptly.
“He was right there.”
Security footage showed Daniel walking around the side of the building thirty seconds earlier.
A deputy ran outside.
His truck remained in the parking lot.
Martin cursed.
“He planned another ride.”
Then Laura rushed into the lobby.
“The cabin.”
Martin turned.
“What?”
“If he thinks the house is compromised, he’ll go to the cabin.”
“Why?”
“There’s another box there.”
“What box?”
Laura’s face had gone white.
“The one with Megan’s phone.”
And suddenly the fire at Hawthorne Lane made perfect sense.
Daniel was not trying merely to destroy a room.
He was destroying one crime scene while racing toward another.
Elena began calling units.
Martin looked toward the rain.
Somewhere beyond Briarwood, Daniel Mercer was running.
But this time, two seven-year-old girls had reached help before he could erase everything.
And for the first time in eleven months, the dead woman at the center of the story might finally have a voice.
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