Unlike Denise, Howard didn’t shout.
He didn’t cry.
He smiled.
That smile frightened me more than anything.
As officers placed him in the car, he turned toward the cameras.
“Michael knows what really happened.”
My blood ran cold.
Mercer switched off the television.
“Ignore him.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“He’s trying to control the story.”
I wanted to believe that.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Mercer shook his head.
“Don’t answer.”
It stopped.
Then rang again.
Unknown.
Again.
And again.
Finally a voicemail arrived.
Mercer played it on speaker.
Howard’s voice.
Recorded earlier.
“If you’re hearing this, Michael, I’ve probably been arrested.”
I felt cold all over.
“You’ve heard one version of what happened. Before you celebrate, ask your lawyer why your parents were so desperate to hide the truth about you.”
I looked at Mercer.
He frowned.
The recording continued.
“Ask him why the trust document says ‘natural-born daughter’ for Victoria but doesn’t say ‘natural-born son’ for you.”
