Chapter 8 - The Bridge Loan
Howard Mercer agreed to meet at Maya’s office.
He arrived with Mark and a nurse, walking slowly with a cane. He looked older than I remembered and far less powerful than the man whose name sat on cranes across Dallas.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
“For your son?”
“For more than that.”
He placed a folder on the table.
Inside was a copy of Mercer Construction’s internal cash report from the week I made my payroll loan.
The company had enough cash to meet payroll.
Barely, but enough.
My $186,000 had been wired the next morning to Blue Alder Materials.
“Daniel lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“Not then.”
Howard rubbed his forehead.
“I started asking questions months later. Patricia told me I was confused because of my stroke.”
Mark looked away.
I hated how familiar that sounded: question the money, then question the person asking.
Howard continued.
“Blue Alder is controlled by Patricia’s brother through two holding companies.”
“So Daniel and Patricia diverted my money.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To cover a hole in the employee benefits account.”
Maya sat forward.
“What hole?”
Howard slid another paper toward us.
Mercer Construction had withheld health and retirement contributions from employee paychecks.
Some of that money had not reached the benefit administrator on time.
“How much?” I asked.
Howard’s eyes met mine.
“About nine hundred thousand when I found it.”
My stomach turned.
“And now?”
“I don’t know.”
Then he pushed one final document across the table.
It was an internal memo dated six weeks before our wedding.
At the bottom were three words in Patricia’s handwriting.
ELENA - BRIDGE GUARANTOR.
May you like
Underneath, Daniel had written:
AFTER CEREMONY.
