Chapter 3 - The Storm at Midnight

By eleven thirty, the yacht had begun to move beneath the storm.

Not dangerously.

Aurelia was built for rough water.

But the gentle resort sway had become a harder rise and fall, enough to make cabinet doors whisper against their catches.

I lay beneath the blankets and listened to the wind.

The hidden radio pressed against my side.

"Positions," Mara whispered.

Owen answered first.

"Engine corridor ready."

Another voice followed.

"Aft service stair ready."

That was Jonah Pike, one of the deckhands Mara trusted.

I had met him twice before the wedding. Twenty-six, former Coast Guard, quiet enough that Flynn had probably never learned his name.

Mara said, "Bridge recording is active. Exterior cameras are live."

"What about the aft deck?" I asked.

"Camera angle covers the door and port rail, not the center seating area."

"Can you change it?"

"Not without creating a maintenance record Flynn might later challenge."

"Leave it."

I wanted evidence, but I did not want Mara or Owen manufacturing it.

If this reached a courtroom, every action would be attacked.

At eleven forty-two, Flynn entered.

He wore a dark rain jacket over a white shirt.

No tie.

No wedding ring.

I noticed that immediately.

"Hey," he said softly.

I pretended to wake slowly.

"What time is it?"

"Almost midnight."

"I can't move."

"I'll help you."

He slid one arm beneath my shoulders.

His touch was careful.

Loving.

Practiced.

I let most of my weight rest against him.

"Why are you dressed?"

"Storm."

"Right."

He guided my feet into slippers.

"Fresh air will help."

"Maybe tomorrow."

His grip tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Just for a minute."

"Flynn—"

"Trust me."

I looked up at him.

"I do."

The words nearly made me sick.

We stepped into the corridor.

The yacht lights had been dimmed for the night.

A steward passed us near the central staircase.

Not Jonah.

Not someone I knew.

He nodded to Flynn.

Flynn nodded back.

The exchange was tiny.

Too tiny.

I pressed my thumb against the radio seam twice.

Immediate concern.

Mara's voice came faintly through the fabric.

"Received."

Flynn glanced at me.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"You moved."

"I'm trying not to throw up on you."

He laughed.

"Please don't. This jacket is new."

We climbed one deck.

The aft passage was empty.

That frightened me.

Jonah was supposed to be close.

The storm banged rain against the windows.

Flynn opened the exterior door.

Wind struck us hard.

I stumbled convincingly.

He caught me.

"Easy."

"This is a bad idea."

"One minute."

The deck gleamed black under emergency lights.

Beyond the rail, the sea was almost invisible except when white water flashed in the darkness.

Flynn guided me toward the stern.

Every instinct screamed to run.

I forced myself not to.

We needed the attempt visible.

We needed him committed.

He brought me to the rail.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I can't see anything."

"Exactly."

His voice changed.

No tenderness.

No performance.

Just exhaustion.

I turned slowly.

"What?"

Flynn looked at me.

For a moment, I saw the man beneath all the polished layers.

Not a mastermind.

Not a romantic villain.

A frightened, greedy man who had built a life he could not afford and decided killing me was easier than admitting it.

"You were never supposed to become complicated," he said.

My heart slammed.

He had stopped pretending.

"Flynn?"

"You should be asleep."

I let my knees soften.

"I am. Almost."

He stepped closer.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

His hands came to my upper arms.

I heard Mara through the radio.

"Evelyn, step away."

Flynn's head snapped toward the sound.

Too late.

He shoved.

I had expected a push from behind.

He pushed from the front.

Hard.

My back struck the rail.

For half a second, the whole world became rain and black water.

Then instinct took over.

I dropped my center of gravity and hooked one arm through the vertical rail support.

Flynn grabbed my shoulders.

"Let go!"

I screamed.

He tried to lift me.

The radio tore loose from my cardigan and clattered across the deck.

"No!"

Flynn saw it.

His face changed completely.

"You knew."

The exterior door slammed open.

Jonah charged onto the deck.

Behind him came Mara.

"Step away from her!"

Flynn released me.

For one second I thought he would surrender.

Instead, he swung at Jonah.

Jonah blocked the punch and drove Flynn backward without striking him in return.

"Hands where I can see them!"

Flynn shouted, "She attacked me!"

Mara stared at him.

"We saw you push her."

"She's drugged! She doesn't know what happened!"

I pulled myself upright.

"I'm not drugged."

Flynn went still.

I reached into my robe pocket and held up the two white tablets.

"Not tonight."

His face drained.

"Evelyn—"

"Don't say my name."

The storm roared around us.

Aidan appeared in the doorway.

He took in the scene: Jonah between Flynn and me, Mara's radio in her hand, the tablets pinched between my fingers.

Then he stepped backward.

"Aidan!" I shouted.

He ran.

Mara turned.

"Jonah, stay with Flynn."

She chased Aidan inside.

Flynn looked at me.

"You don't understand."

I laughed once.

"You pushed me toward the ocean. I understand enough."

"My father—"

"Your father what? Made you marry me? Made you drug me? Made you forge my power of attorney?"

His eyes flicked toward Jonah.

"We should talk privately."

"No."

"Evelyn, please."

"You don't get privacy anymore."

Jonah said, "Sir, sit down."

"Don't call me sir."

"Fine. Sit down."

Flynn's jaw tightened.

"Do you know who I am?"

Jonah's expression did not change.

"A man who just tried to throw his wife overboard. Sit down."

Flynn sat.

Mara's voice burst over the radio.

"Aidan is moving toward the bridge. Owen, lock bridge access from engineering."

"Already done."

Another voice shouted in the distance.

Fiona.

"What's happening?"

Flynn looked toward the door.

"Mom!"

Fiona stumbled onto the aft passage, clutching a silk robe around herself.

When she saw me standing, fully alert, she stopped.

"Evelyn?"

"Surprised?"

"What happened?"

"Flynn tried to kill me."

Her hand flew to her chest.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"This is insane."

"Two pills every night. Extra in the soup. One gentle push. The ocean takes care of the rest."

Fiona's face lost all expression.

Those were Flynn's exact words.

She knew I had heard them.

"You were spying on us," she whispered.

Jonah stared at her.

Fiona realized what she had said.

"No. I mean—"

I almost smiled.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For confirming there was something to spy on."

She turned to Flynn.

"You idiot."

"Mom, shut up."

"Both of you," Jonah said, "stop talking."

A loud alarm sounded inside the yacht.

Not fire.

Security.

Mara's voice came through.

"Bridge access breach attempt. Aidan tried to force the emergency communications cabinet. Owen has him contained in the chart room."

Flynn stood.

Jonah blocked him.

"Sit."

"I need my father."

"Your father needs a lawyer."

Flynn looked at me again.

Something desperate entered his face.

"Evelyn, listen to me. Aidan planned this. He said your family would never let us have anything unless—"

"Unless I died?"

"It got out of control."

"No. You got caught."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

I stared at him.

"You pushed me."

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

The door behind Fiona opened again.

Owen appeared with Aidan two steps ahead of him.

Aidan's hands were empty.

Mara followed.

"Everyone inside," she ordered. "Storm's worsening."

I shook my head.

"Where are we going?"

"Main salon. Cameras cover the whole room."

Aidan said, "You have no authority to detain us."

Mara answered, "I have authority over safety aboard this vessel. You attempted to breach restricted bridge communications during an emergency. Sit down until we reach port."

"Reach port?"

"We're turning toward Nassau."

Flynn's head snapped up.

"No."

Mara looked at him.

"Yes."

Aidan's composure finally cracked.

"Captain, I strongly advise you to reconsider."

"I strongly advise you to stop advising me."

We moved into the main salon.

Fiona sat beside Aidan.

Flynn remained alone on the opposite sofa.

I stayed near Mara.

Owen entered a few minutes later carrying a sealed evidence bag.

Inside was my perfume bottle full of water.

"Preliminary test," he said. "Same sedative class."

Fiona closed her eyes.

Flynn whispered, "Jesus."

Aidan turned on him.

"You left the glass?"

The room froze.

Aidan seemed to realize his mistake only after the words existed.

Mara said quietly, "Thank you, Mr. Mercer."

Aidan's face went white.

I looked at Flynn.

"Tell me one thing."

He did not answer.

"Was Daniel Price part of this?"

Flynn's eyes moved toward his father.

That was enough.

My phone, still connected only to the yacht's internal network, suddenly vibrated.

Mara handed me the satellite handset.

"It's your uncle."

I grabbed it.

"Nathan?"

His voice came through distorted by static.

"Evie, your parents are with me. They're safe."

My knees nearly gave out.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm looking at them. Your father is furious. Your mother is threatening to personally murder everyone, which I consider a positive sign."

I laughed and cried at the same time.

"The Aspen SUV?"

Nathan's voice changed.

"We had an independent mechanic inspect it. The brake line was deliberately weakened. Daniel disappeared before we could confront him."

I looked at Flynn.

"Nathan, tell Dad not to use Sterling security. Not yet."

"Already done."

"Daniel may be running."

"Police are being contacted through outside counsel."

"Good."

"Evie?"

"Yes?"

"Are you safe?"

I looked at the storm outside.

At Flynn.

At the people who had planned to make me disappear into it.

"I am now."

The lie was smaller this time.

Because we had stopped the push.

We had saved my parents.

But as Nathan spoke, Mara placed a document in front of me that Owen had found in Aidan's briefcase after the bridge incident.

A transfer schedule.

Three hundred million dollars.

My trust.

And beneath it, a second page listing payments to names I did not recognize.

One line was dated two months before my wedding.

One was labeled PRICE SECURITY CONSULTING.

Another was labeled N. VALE.

I touched the paper.

"Who is N. Vale?"

Flynn looked away.

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And suddenly I knew the night was not ending in Nassau.

It was only beginning there.