Chapter 4 - MADISON COMES BACK
Madison disappeared from social media.
No posts.
No stories.
No smiling photographs.
Nothing.
For almost three weeks, Nia did not hear her name.
Then Madison showed up at the bait shop where Nia worked part-time on weekends.
Nia looked up from the counter.
Madison stood near the door.
No makeup.
Hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
No attitude.
Nia said nothing.
Madison walked forward.
“My dad told me to stay away from you.”
“First smart thing he’s said.”
Madison swallowed.
“I need to tell you something.”
“You can tell police.”
“I did.”
Nia’s expression changed.
Madison placed an envelope on the counter.
“I found this in my dad’s office.”
Nia did not touch it.
“What is it?”
“Letters.”
“From who?”
“Your dad.”
Nia’s heart tightened.
“Why did Raymond have letters from my father?”
“I don’t know.”
“You read them?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you did.”
Madison accepted the insult.
“He was begging my dad to help.”
Nia stared at her.
Madison continued:
“The last letter says somebody followed him home.”
Nia finally picked up the envelope.
Inside were photocopies.
Not originals.
James had written to Raymond repeatedly over the final year.
Ray,
You know Mercer is lying.
Ray,
If you keep pretending this is only about land, you are helping them.
Ray,
I saw Holt near the cabin again.
And the final letter:
Raymond,
If you do nothing else for me, protect Nia from this.
She doesn’t know anything and I want it to stay that way.
Do not let them use her to get to me.
Nia had to sit.
Madison stood quietly.
“Why are you giving me these?”
“Because I did exactly what he was scared they’d do.”
Nia looked up.
“What?”
“I used you.”
Madison’s eyes filled.
“I was angry at my dad. At everything. I heard him fighting on the phone about your family. I decided you were the reason.”
“So you came to humiliate me.”
“Yes.”
“You threw my father’s things into the lake.”
Madison looked down.
“Yes.”
Nia waited for excuses.
None came.
Madison said:
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I just wanted you to have the letters.”
Nia studied her.
“What changed?”
Madison’s laugh was bitter.
“My dad told me the truth.”
“All of it?”
“I doubt it.”
Nia almost smiled.
“At least you learned something.”
Madison wiped her eyes.
“He told me he knew your dad was in danger.”
Nia looked at the letters.
“He knew.”
“He said he was afraid.”
“Everyone was afraid.”
Madison flinched.
“My dad said he thought if he cooperated with Mercer, he could keep us safe.”
“And did he?”
Madison shook her head.
“He just made himself smaller.”
That sentence surprised Nia.
Madison continued.
“I grew up thinking my dad was powerful.”
“He is.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He has money. That’s different.”
Nia said nothing.
Madison turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“There’s something else.”
Nia waited.
“Evan Holt came to our house once.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Before my father died?”
“Yes.”
“How long before?”
“Maybe a week.”
“What happened?”
“He and my dad argued in the garage.”
“About what?”
“I couldn’t hear everything.”
“What did you hear?”
Madison closed her eyes, remembering.
“My dad said, ‘If Mercer wants the documents, he can ask James himself.’”
Nia leaned forward.
“And Evan?”
“He said, ‘Mercer is done asking.’”
Nia’s skin prickled.
“Did you tell investigators?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Madison hesitated.
“Evan left something.”
“What?”
“A red duffel bag.”
Nia stood.
“Where?”
“In our garage.”
“Still there?”
“I don’t know.”
Police obtained a warrant within hours.
Raymond protested.
Not because he wanted to block them, he claimed.
Because he genuinely did not know about the bag.
Officers found it behind old paint cans in a storage cabinet.
Inside were gloves.
A flashlight.
A cheap prepaid phone.
And a set of keys.
One key opened James Bennett’s cabin.
Nia stared at Raymond.
“How did he get this?”
Raymond looked horrified.
“I don’t know.”
“You had access?”
“I had an old spare years ago.”
“So he got it from you.”
“Maybe.”
Another item lay at the bottom of the bag.
A photograph.
James.
Nia.
Taken outside a diner.
On the back:
Pressure point = daughter.
Nia stopped breathing.
Raymond sat down hard.
Madison covered her mouth.
Nia did not cry.
She felt something colder than grief.
Her father had known.
He was trying to keep her uninvolved because people had identified her as leverage.
Then investigators powered on the prepaid phone.
Most messages were deleted.
One remained in draft form.
Not sent.
J won’t hand it over. Mercer says scare daughter next.
Nia looked at Aaron.
“This was a year ago.”
“Yes.”
“They were planning to come after me.”
“Looks that way.”
“Why didn’t they?”
Aaron glanced at Raymond.
Nobody knew.
Then Raymond spoke.
“Because I paid.”
Everyone turned.
Nia’s voice became flat.
“What?”
Raymond looked at the floor.
“Evan called me.”
“When?”
“Two days before James died.”
“What did he want?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“For what?”
“To keep you out of it.”
Nia stared.
“You paid a man threatening me?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You paid the criminal instead of calling police.”
“The sheriff was already compromised!”
“Then state police. FBI. Anyone.”
“I panicked.”
Nia laughed in disbelief.
“Fear again.”
Raymond looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Did Dad know?”
“No.”
“Did Mercer?”
“I think so.”
“So maybe Evan got greedy.”
“Yes.”
“He got paid by you and then paid by Mercer.”
“Probably.”
“And Dad still died.”
Raymond closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Nia turned away.
Money had moved everywhere around her father’s death.
Bribes.
Blackmail.
Silence.
Even protection had been purchased like a commodity.
But something about the red duffel bothered Aaron.
“If Evan left this here before James died, why?”
Raymond frowned.
“Maybe he planned to come back.”
“Or someone wanted it found.”
Nia looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
Aaron held up the cabin key.
“This bag ties Evan directly to James.”
“So?”
“So professional killers don’t usually leave their identification package in someone else’s garage.”
Raymond’s face changed.
“You think he was framed.”
“I think somebody wanted a backup person to blame.”
Nia felt cold.
“If the murder became suspicious.”
“Yes.”
“Then who actually went to the cabin?”
Aaron looked at the key.
“Maybe Evan.”
“Or?”
“Someone using his things.”
The investigation returned to the memory card.
James had recorded movement outside the cabin using a trail camera.
Most files were ordinary.
Deer.
Raccoons.
Raymond.
James himself.
Then, the night James died, one blurred figure appeared.
Not enough for facial identification.
But enough for height.
The man was roughly five-foot-nine.
Evan Holt was six-foot-three.
Nia stared at the measurement.
“He wasn’t the man at the cabin.”
Aaron nodded.
“Probably not.”
“Then who?”
Another image showed the figure’s left hand.
A large ring.
Gold.
Square face.
Raymond saw it and went pale.
Nia turned.
“What?”
Raymond whispered:
“Charles.”
“Mercer?”
“He wore his college ring every day.”
The state investigators enlarged the image.
Same shape.
Same hand.
Same height.
Charles Mercer had claimed he was in Florida the day James died.
Flight records placed him there the morning after.
No reliable record showed where he was the previous evening.
The case shifted.
Evan may have purchased the medication.
May have obtained the key.
May have been paid to help.
But the person who entered James Bennett’s cabin that night appeared to be Charles Mercer himself.
Nia stared at the blurred photograph.
A powerful executive.
A polished man.
Someone who had attended charity events and county dinners.
Someone who stood beside her at her father’s funeral.
Someone who may have poured poison into James’s coffee.
The person watching had never been nobody.
James Bennett had been watching.
May you like
The trail camera had been watching.
And now Nia was too.
