Chapter 7 - The Man Behind the Money
The message changed everything.
Reddick knew the truth.
Not just that Gideon Mercer worked for the government.
He now knew that Evan Cross, the quiet financial consultant he had trusted for fourteen months, was an FBI agent.
I immediately forwarded the message to Tamson.
Within minutes, the task force activated emergency procedures to protect undercover personnel and confidential sources.
My identity was no longer secure.
Neither were the people who had helped me.
"Reddick is running," Tamson said over the secure connection.
"Do we know where?"
"His office is empty. His personal aircraft hasn't moved, but he has access to several charter companies."
I stared at the photograph.
Marjorie must have sent my image to someone associated with Reddick before her arrest.
He had recognized me.
Fourteen months of careful deception had collapsed in a single afternoon.
"There's someone else we need to protect," I said.
Tamson understood immediately.
"Lydia Chen."
Lydia was Meridian's senior accounting manager.
For months, she had quietly provided information that helped investigators identify fraudulent accounts.
She wasn't a criminal mastermind.
She was a frightened woman who had discovered what her employer was doing and eventually decided she couldn't remain silent.
Her cooperation had saved the investigation.
Now it could endanger her life.
Tamson contacted her protective team.
While she handled that, I returned to the question bothering me.
How had Meridian made millions of dollars appear to move through accounts connected to my father?
The forged signatures explained the property filings.
They didn't explain the electronic records.
My father barely used online banking.
He still paid his electricity bill by mailing a check.
I asked him whether anyone from the HOA had installed equipment at the house.
He thought for a moment.
"Someone came last spring."
"What kind of equipment?"
"A security sensor near the garage. Marjorie said the association needed it for neighborhood monitoring."
I sat upright.
"Did you agree?"
"No. I told them to leave."
"What happened?"
"They came back when I was at a doctor's appointment."
My pulse quickened.
"How do you know?"
"The garage cabinet had been moved. I complained, but Marjorie said maintenance workers had permission."
I immediately called Tamson.
"We need the technical team to inspect Dad's garage."
Federal technicians returned with specialized equipment.
They examined the walls, electrical outlets, and network connections.
Behind a small metal panel near the garage workbench, they discovered a compact communications device connected to a concealed power supply.
It had been disguised as part of the home's security equipment.
The device was documented and collected for forensic examination.
Later, a technician confirmed that it had connected to an external network and had been configured to route digital traffic through the property.
Tamson called me with the preliminary findings.
"Gideon, this device may explain why fraudulent filings appeared to originate from your father's address."
"Can we prove he didn't use it?"
"We're working on that. The access logs and installation evidence could be important."
I closed my eyes.
Someone had invaded my father's home.
Used his identity.
Forged my dead mother's signature.
And installed hidden equipment that could make him appear responsible for financial crimes.
Then Tamson said something that made my chest tighten.
"The device also connected to systems associated with the county recorder's office."
I stared at the wall.
"Which means?"
"Which means someone may have used your father's address to conceal unauthorized access to official property records."
She paused.
"And Gideon, the connection logs point to seventeen properties."
Seventeen families.
May you like
Six more than my mother's notebook had identified.
The conspiracy was bigger than anyone had realized.
