And he developed a system that allowed certain people to disappear without leaving an obvious trail.
Harold had been the public face.
Richard Vale had provided the money.
Thomas Mercer had built the machinery.
When the organization began attracting attention, Thomas arranged his own disappearance.
The vehicle accident had been staged.
His body had never been positively identified.
He had moved abroad.
Then returned under another name.
He had continued managing the remaining financial structure from a distance.
And now, decades later, he was still alive.
Ortiz looked at the photograph again.
"Where is he?"
Marcus shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Who does?"
Marcus hesitated.
Then he said:
"Evelyn."
When investigators returned to Evelyn Cross, she did not deny knowing the truth.
She sat in her apartment with both hands folded.
"Thomas is alive," she said.
Ortiz nodded.
"We need to know where he is."
Evelyn looked at the window.
"I haven't seen him in years."
"But you know how to contact him."
She shook her head.
"Not directly."
"Then how?"
Evelyn stood slowly.
She walked toward a bookshelf and removed a small wooden frame.
Inside was a photograph of a group of volunteers standing outside Haven House.
She pointed to a woman near the back.
"Her name was Clara."
Ortiz examined the photograph.
"Who was she?"
"Thomas's sister."
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Somewhere in Maine."
Ortiz wrote down the information.
Evelyn returned to her chair.
"Thomas never trusted anyone completely. Not even Harold. But he trusted Clara."
"Why?"
"Because she knew what he had done before he became the person you see in those photographs."
Ortiz leaned forward.
"What does that mean?"
Evelyn looked at him.
"Thomas had a daughter."
Nobody spoke.
"He lost custody of her when she was young. He blamed everyone. His wife. The courts. The people who helped him. He convinced himself that the world had stolen his family."
"Did he use Haven House to find her?"
"At first."
"Then what?"
"He began using the records to control people."
Evelyn's voice trembled.
"He believed that if he knew everything about everyone, nobody could ever take anything from him again."
Ortiz closed his notebook.
"Where is his daughter now?"
Evelyn whispered:
"Her name is Clara Mercer."
Ortiz frowned.
"Clara?"
"Yes."
He looked at the photograph.
The woman standing behind the group was not Thomas's daughter.
She was his sister.
Evelyn nodded.
"Thomas named his daughter after her."
"Where is the daughter?"
Evelyn looked down.
"She is living under another name."
"Do you know which one?"
Evelyn nodded.
Then she gave him an address.
The address belonged to a small house near Portland.
The woman living there was fifty-eight years old.
Her name was Claire Morgan.
She had spent most of her life believing her father had died in an accident when she was a child.
When investigators showed her the photograph, she began crying.
She recognized him.
Not because she remembered his face clearly.
But because of the ring.
Her father had owned a silver ring with a black stone.
He used to let her hold it when she was little.
She remembered the cold metal.
The tiny engraving.
And the way he always turned the ring around his finger when he was nervous.
Claire agreed to speak with investigators.
She explained that she had received anonymous letters for years.
They contained information about her childhood.
Sometimes they included photographs.
Sometimes they mentioned people she had not seen in decades.
She had assumed the letters came from someone who had known her father.
She had never imagined he was alive.
Ortiz asked whether she would help identify him.
Claire looked at the photograph.
Then she nodded.
"Yes."
She paused.
"But I need you to understand something."
Ortiz waited.
"If he's alive, I don't want him near my children."
"That's your decision."
"And I don't want anyone telling me that he was a good man who made mistakes."
Ortiz nodded.
"Nobody will."
Claire looked down.
"He wasn't there when I needed him."
She folded her hands.
"He doesn't get to return simply because he's ready."
The investigation expanded into Maine.
Thomas Mercer had been using several properties under different names.
One belonged to a company registered in Delaware.
Another was a small medical supply business.
A third was an old farmhouse near the coast.
Investigators believed he had been using the farmhouse as a temporary residence.
They obtained the necessary warrants.
But when they arrived, the building was empty.
There was no sign of Thomas.
Only a table, several boxes, and a locked filing cabinet.
Inside the cabinet were documents dating back twenty years.
There were photographs of Claire.
Photographs of Daniel.
Photographs of Marcus.
And photographs of Emma.
Daniel was horrified.
The photographs showed Emma outside school, at Sweet Haven, and at the garage.
There were also notes describing her daily routine.
Ortiz immediately increased security.
Daniel looked at the photographs.
His face went white.
"How long has he been watching her?"
"We're still determining that."
"Months?"