Chapter 6 - TABITHA HAD BEEN BUILDING A CASE AGAINST REBECCA FOR FIVE MONTHSThe private investigator’s name was Adrian Cole.
Not related to the family.
Former insurance investigator.
Licensed.
No criminal record.
When detectives interviewed him, he did not pretend the surveillance was accidental.
“Shore Strategic hired me.”
“To follow Rebecca Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was told it was for a family-law risk assessment.”
“What does that mean?”
“Document travel.”
“Alcohol use.”
“Relationships.”
“Anything suggesting instability.”
Rebecca listened through Rachel afterward.
Adrian had photographed her leaving airports.
Meeting clients.
Having wine at dinners.
Once hugging a male colleague outside a hotel.
The custody petition described that photograph as:
Rebecca displaying intimate behavior with unidentified male during overnight travel.
The “unidentified male” was sixty-three-year-old Martin Sloan.
Her married managing partner.
A hug after closing a contract.
Rebecca stared.
“They cropped his wife out.”
Rachel looked at the original.
Martin’s wife stood three feet away in the full image.
The petition used a tighter crop.
“Deliberate.”
“Yes.”
Adrian admitted Caleb told him which images to send.
He claimed he did not know they would be used misleadingly.
Possible.
Investigators would decide.
Then they found school records.
Tabitha had emailed Lucas’s school twice, presenting herself as an emergency caregiver.
She asked whether teachers noticed “emotional dysregulation after maternal travel.”
One teacher responded:
Lucas occasionally misses his mother when she travels, but overall he is cheerful and well-adjusted.
The custody petition quoted only:
Lucas occasionally misses his mother when she travels.
Rebecca’s anger became colder.
Every ordinary fact had been cut into a weapon.
Then medical records.
Six weeks earlier, Tabitha took Lucas to a pediatric urgent-care clinic for a mild stomachache during a scheduled visit.
She told the doctor Rebecca traveled “constantly.”
The note included:
Stepmother concerned about inconsistency in primary home.
No investigation.
No diagnosis.
Just Tabitha’s statement.
Yet the guardianship petition presented it as a medical concern.
Rachel said:
“This is narrative construction.”
Rebecca nodded.
“They didn’t need one big lie.”
“No.”
“They needed twenty small things that looked related.”
Exactly.
Then Alma called.
“Ms. Rebecca.”
“What?”
“Lucas remembered something.”
Rebecca tensed.
“What?”
“He asked if he has to do the camera game anymore.”
Rebecca frowned.
“What camera game?”
“I don’t know.”
She went to Lucas.
Not with police questions.
Just sat beside him while he colored.
“Alma said something about a camera game.”
Lucas stopped drawing.
Rebecca waited.
Finally:
“Tabitha made videos.”
Rebecca’s chest tightened.
“What kind?”
“She asked questions.”
“The practice questions?”
He nodded.
“Where?”
“Dad’s office.”
“Did anyone else watch?”
“Mr. Caleb.”
“On the computer?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca kept her voice calm.
“What did Tabitha tell you about the videos?”
Lucas colored too hard.
The crayon snapped.
“She said if I got the answers right, Dad would be proud.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“And if you got them wrong?”
Lucas whispered:
“She’d turn off Dad.”
Rebecca froze.
“What does that mean?”
“The videos.”
“What videos?”
“Dad videos.”
Ethan had recorded dozens of bedtime messages when he traveled.
After his death, Lucas watched some on an old tablet.
Rebecca suddenly understood.
Tabitha controlled access.
“She threatened to delete your father’s videos?”
Lucas nodded.
“She said if I told you, she’d erase all of him.”
Rebecca put the broken crayon down.
“Lucas.”
He looked at her.
“No one can erase Dad.”
“But videos can go away.”
“Yes.”
“That would hurt.”
Lucas nodded.
“But your memories are yours.”
“Can Tabitha take those?”
“No.”
He stared.
Then whispered:
“She said she could.”
Rebecca hated her.
Not theatrically.
Not explosively.
A quiet, durable hatred.
Then Lucas said:
“She made me say something else.”
“What?”
“That I was scared at your house.”
Rebecca kept breathing.
“Were you?”
“No.”
“What did she tell you to say you were scared of?”
Lucas looked embarrassed.
“Being alone.”
Rebecca frowned.
Lucas was never alone.
Her mother lived nearby.
A nanny helped after school.
Alma occasionally came over.
Rebecca’s schedule was structured.
But the narrative fit.
Working mother.
Travel.
Lonely child.
Tabitha had rehearsed language for court.
Rachel arranged for a trained forensic interviewer.
Lucas’s recorded interview later confirmed multiple coaching sessions.
No leading from Rebecca.
No pressure.
The interview produced another detail.
Tabitha repeatedly asked Lucas about a “red key.”
Lucas did not know what she meant.
“Did your dad ever give you a red key?”
“No.”
“Did Tabitha say why she wanted it?”
Lucas thought.
“She said it opens my money.”
Rebecca stared when Rachel told her.
A red key.
Not in Ethan’s letter.
Not in the drawer.
Something else.
They searched trust records.
No literal key.
Then Brighton Trust’s administrator mentioned a security device.
When Ethan amended Lucas’s trust, he created a two-person authorization system for major sale votes.
Brighton Trust held one digital token.
The second belonged to Ethan while alive.
After his death, it was supposed to pass to a designated independent protector.
“Who?” Rebecca asked.
The administrator checked.
“Ethan named someone privately.”
“Name?”
“I need the sealed directive.”
“Where is it?”
Brighton searched.
The directive was missing from their electronic file.
A physical notation said:
Original delivered to Caleb Shore for safekeeping pending death certification.
Rebecca felt cold.
May you like
Caleb had the second authorization path.
And if Tabitha was searching for a “red key,” maybe Ethan had moved it somewhere before he died.
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