Chapter 5 - The Second Accident

By sunrise, the honeymoon was officially over.

Flynn, Aidan, and Fiona were escorted off Aurelia by Bahamian authorities for questioning related to the incident aboard the vessel. No one used the word arrest at first. Lawyers prefer careful nouns when rich people are involved.

I used simpler language.

"He tried to kill me."

The detective taking my statement was named Simone Grant. She had calm eyes and a habit of waiting three seconds after every answer, as if silence might produce more truth than another question.

"Tell me exactly where his hands were," she said.

"Upper arms. Then shoulders."

"Did you lose your footing before he touched you?"

"No."

"Did the vessel roll sharply at that moment?"

"Not sharply enough to throw me."

"Did he say anything?"

I repeated Flynn's words.

You were never supposed to become complicated.

You should be asleep.

I'm sorry.

Detective Grant wrote them down.

"And after the crew intervened?"

"He said his father planned it."

"Did he say what 'it' meant?"

"Not clearly."

"Good. Don't improve the statement for him."

I looked at her.

"You say that often?"

"Often enough. People want bad men to say perfect incriminating sentences. Real life is messier."

That was reassuring.

The case did not need a theatrical confession.

We had the pills.

The drugged water.

Video of Flynn taking me toward the aft deck.

Video of the confrontation near the rail.

Audio from the exterior microphone that caught parts of his words through the wind.

Witnesses.

A transfer schedule.

And Nora.

But Nora's mailbox packet was still in Miami.

At eight thirty, Nathan called.

"Your father wants to fly to Nassau."

"No."

"That was my answer."

"My mother?"

"Your mother wants to fly to Nassau and hit Flynn with a lamp."

"Also no."

Nathan chuckled.

"You sound better."

"I'm not."

"Fair."

I stepped onto the marina terrace outside the police office. The morning sun was painfully beautiful.

"Nathan, where are they now?"

"At my house in Greenwich. New security, hired through outside counsel. No Sterling employees."

"Did you tell Dad about Daniel?"

"Yes."

"How did he take it?"

"Like someone informed him gravity had resigned."

That sounded like my father.

Charles Sterling believed loyalty was a measurable asset. He paid well, remembered birthdays, covered medical bills, funded retirements, and expected betrayal to remain an abstract concept that happened to less careful men.

"What about the SUV?"

"Independent mechanic confirmed deliberate damage. Police took it."

"Any camera footage?"

Nathan went quiet.

"Garage footage was deleted."

"By Daniel?"

"Credentials used were his."

"That isn't proof he personally did it."

"No."

I appreciated that Nathan did not turn suspicion into certainty.

"Where is Daniel's wife?"

"Why?"

"Because if Daniel is involved and Aidan is eliminating liabilities, his family may be in danger."

Nathan swore.

"I'll have counsel contact police."

"Not Sterling security."

"I heard you the first six times."

"Say it back."

"I will not use Sterling security."

"Thank you."

Before he could hang up, another call broke through the satellite handset.

Mara approached me.

"It's your mother."

I took it.

"Mom?"

Helen Sterling did not say hello.

"You are never getting married again."

I laughed so unexpectedly it became a sob.

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"Okay."

"And if you do, I am choosing him."

"That seems worse."

"Evelyn."

Her voice cracked.

I closed my eyes.

"I'm alive."

"I know."

"Dad is alive?"

"He's standing beside me pretending not to cry."

In the background, my father said, "I am not pretending anything."

I smiled through tears.

"Hi, Dad."

"Evie."

One word.

Then silence.

My father could negotiate billion-dollar acquisitions without notes, but emotion reduced him to monosyllables.

"Listen to Nathan," I said. "Don't travel. Don't use your normal drivers. Don't make public statements."

"You're giving me orders now?"

"Yes."

"Good."

That nearly broke me again.

A man in a blue suit stepped onto the terrace and spoke quietly to Detective Grant.

Her expression changed.

"Mom, I have to go."

"Call me in one hour."

"I may not be able to."

"Then two."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

I handed the phone back to Mara.

Detective Grant approached.

"Mrs. Mercer, we have an issue."

"Evelyn."

"Evelyn. Your uncle's attorney contacted us about an event in Connecticut."

My blood cooled.

"My parents?"

"They're safe."

"Then what?"

"A vehicle registered to Daniel Price was found crashed off a county road about forty minutes from his home."

"Daniel?"

"No driver inside. Blood on the steering wheel."

"How much?"

"Enough to concern investigators. Not enough to conclude he's dead."

I stared at her.

"Second accident."

"Excuse me?"

"That's how they operate. Accidents. Brakes. Water. Things that can be blamed on circumstance."

"Maybe. Or Mr. Price staged it. We don't know yet."

"He could be running."

"Yes."

"Or someone could be hunting him."

"Yes."

I looked toward Aurelia.

Flynn's father had tried to breach communications when the plan failed.

Nora had said Aidan wanted witnesses removed.

Daniel had become dangerous the moment my parents survived.

"I need to speak to Nora."

Grant shook her head.

"Her attorney is with her."

"Ask."

"Why?"

"Because she may know how Aidan communicates with people on shore. If Daniel is alive, we may have a narrow window."

Grant considered that.

"I'll ask."

Twenty minutes later, Nora sat across from me in a small interview room with her attorney beside her.

His name was Malcolm Reed, a Nassau lawyer retained through a Miami firm.

He began with a warning.

"My client is not agreeing to unrestricted questioning."

"I'm not police."

"That doesn't make your questions harmless."

Nora said, "Ask."

Reed frowned.

"Nora."

"She saved the evidence by surviving. Ask."

I looked at her.

"How does Aidan communicate with Daniel?"

"Encrypted app sometimes. Burner phones for operational things."

"Numbers?"

"Changed weekly."

"Who manages them?"

"Flynn did."

"Where are the phones?"

"Usually in a black leather electronics case."

I remembered Flynn boarding Aurelia with a black leather case he refused to let the steward carry.

"Is it on the yacht?"

Nora nodded.

"Probably."

"Where?"

"His office cabinet. False back."

Reed held up a hand.

"Before anyone searches anything, law enforcement needs appropriate authority."

Detective Grant, standing near the door, nodded.

"Agreed."

I asked Nora, "Did Daniel know about you?"

"Yes."

"Would he contact you if he was scared?"

"No."

"Who would he contact?"

Nora hesitated.

"His sister."

"Name?"

"Rebecca Price. She owns a horse farm outside Danbury. Daniel used it when he wanted conversations away from phones."

Grant was already taking notes.

"How do you know this?"

"I drove Flynn there once."

"When?"

"Seven months ago."

"Why?"

"I waited in the car. Flynn said it was a security meeting."

I leaned forward.

"Was Aidan there?"

"Yes."

Grant asked, "Anyone else?"

Nora stared at the table.

"A man named Victor Hale."

My stomach dropped.

"Who is Victor Hale?"

She looked at me.

"Your father's deputy general counsel."

I knew Victor.

He had reviewed my prenuptial agreement.

He had been at my wedding.

He had hugged me after the ceremony and told me my father finally looked relaxed.

"No," I said.

Nora's expression tightened.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"What was he doing there?"

"I don't know."

Reed said, "My client has answered enough."

I stood.

The room swayed even though the floor was still.

Victor Hale had access to Sterling legal documents.

Daniel had access to Sterling movement and security.

Flynn had access to me.

Aidan had connected them.

This was no longer a desperate husband's fraud.

It was an infiltration.

Detective Grant stepped into the hall with me.

"Do not call Victor Hale," she said.

"I wasn't going to."

"Do not have your family confront him."

"I won't."

"Good."

My phone rang again.

Nathan.

"Evie," he said, "police reached Daniel's sister's farm."

"Is he there?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"The barn office was broken into. Rebecca is safe, but someone searched the place."

I gripped the phone.

"Anything missing?"

"She says Daniel kept an old lockbox there. It's gone."

I looked through the window at Flynn's yacht cabin visible across the marina.

"Nathan, find out whether Victor Hale is still at the Sterling legal office. Quietly."

"Why?"

"Nora says he attended a meeting with Flynn, Aidan, and Daniel seven months ago."

Silence.

Then Nathan said, "Victor reviewed your prenup."

"I know."

"He reviewed your trust amendments."

"I know."

"Jesus Christ."

"Do not call him."

"I won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Thirty minutes later, Nathan called back.

Victor Hale had not come to work.

His assistant said he had emailed at six ten that morning claiming food poisoning.

At six twelve, his company credentials were used to access the Sterling family trust document archive.

At six fourteen, someone downloaded every document related to my power of attorney.

At six sixteen, the system logged a deletion request.

The request failed because my father's archive required two-person approval.

Victor had tried to erase something.

Or make it look as though he had.

I stared at the sea.

Flynn had tried to throw me into it.

Daniel's car had gone off a road.

Now Victor had vanished behind a convenient illness.

The pattern was becoming clearer.

When plans failed, people disappeared.

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And I was beginning to understand that the most dangerous person in the conspiracy might not be the husband who had put his hands on my shoulders.

It might be the person who had designed a system where every crime looked like someone else's accident.