Chapter 4 - Ninety-Nine Missed Calls
Chloe woke at 6:17 that evening.
Her eyelids fluttered.
Then opened.
I stood so quickly my chair fell backward.
“Chloe?”
Her eyes moved toward me.
Confusion came first.
Then recognition.
“Mom?”
Her voice was barely audible.
I leaned close and kissed her forehead.
“I’m here.”
“Dad?”
One word.
The one word I had hoped she would not ask.
“He’s coming back.”
It was not technically a lie.
The burning yacht had been forced toward the nearest marina while emergency crews responded.
Whether Grant wanted to return or not no longer mattered.
Chloe swallowed.
“He left.”
“I know.”
“He said…”
Her eyes closed.
“Don’t talk yet.”
“He said it was safe.”
My blood chilled.
“What was safe?”
But Chloe was already drifting back into exhausted sleep.
I did not push.
Her doctor entered moments later.
“She needs rest.”
“What did she mean?”
“We’ll speak with her when she’s stronger.”
My phone showed dozens of messages.
The last one from Grant had arrived fifteen minutes earlier.
THIS IS YOUR FAULT. YOU SHUT DOWN THE YACHT SYSTEMS.
I stared at it.
He was blaming me for the fire.
Captain Reeves soon destroyed that claim.
He called from shore.
“Everyone survived.”
I exhaled.
“Lauren?”
“Safe.”
“Grant?”
“Minor smoke inhalation.”
“What caused the fire?”
“Too early to know.”
“Was it related to suspended services?”
“No.”
That mattered.
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t speculate.”
A man after my own heart.
“But?”
“But the fire started in the owner’s office.”
My office.
“What was in there?”
“Your documents. Backup navigation records. Security storage.”
Security storage.
The yacht had cameras.
My stomach tightened.
“Is the footage destroyed?”
“Unknown.”
I thought about Lauren’s message.
Something’s burning.
Had she seen it start?
I called her.
This time she answered.
Her voice trembled.
“I’m okay.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lauren.”
“I saw Grant go into your office.”
“When?”
“Maybe ten minutes before the smoke.”
“Was he carrying anything?”
Silence.
“A bag.”
“What kind?”
“The same black bag he wouldn’t let anyone touch.”
The gun.
Perhaps something else.
“Then what?”
“He came out without it.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you see him start the fire?”
“No.”
Important distinction.
“Did anyone?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Lauren whispered, “Mrs. Vance, I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Grant knew.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Knew what?”
“About Chloe.”
I said nothing.
“He knew she was sick before you called him.”
“How?”
“I heard him talking to someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Lauren inhaled shakily.
“He said, ‘If the kid made it to the hospital, we have a problem.’”
The room tilted.
I gripped the window ledge.
“Exact words?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“Because I didn’t know who the kid was.”
My eyes went to Chloe.
“And then?”
“Then you called him.”
Lauren began crying.
“He told me you were unstable. He said you were trying to ruin him because you were jealous.”
“That part I believe.”
“I saw the hospital number in his missed calls. I searched it. Then I found your name online. Your daughter’s name.”
Her voice broke.
“I realized what he meant.”
I felt something colder than anger.
“Lauren, speak to the police. Tell them everything.”
“I will.”
“Do not meet Grant alone.”
“I won’t.”
After the call, I opened Grant’s contact.
Ninety-nine missed calls had once seemed like the perfect symbol of his selfishness.
Now they looked different.
What if he had not been calling merely because his cards were frozen?
What if he was desperate to learn how much I knew?
The doctor returned near midnight.
This time, a detective accompanied him.
Detective Sarah Cole introduced herself quietly.
“We’re investigating the circumstances surrounding Chloe’s reaction.”
I nodded.
“I expected you.”
“We recovered the injector.”
“I know.”
“There’s another issue.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“The laboratory identified the liquid.”
She handed me nothing.
Showed me nothing.
She simply looked at me.
“It was saline.”
My throat tightened.
“Someone emptied her medication?”
“That’s one possibility.”
“And replaced it with something useless.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
But I was beginning to see the shape of an answer.
Not the motive.
Not yet.
But the intention.
Someone had wanted Chloe’s emergency medicine to fail.
Detective Cole continued.
“Mrs. Vance, did anyone benefit financially from your daughter’s death?”
I stared at her.
The question felt obscene.
“She’s twelve.”
“I understand.”
“No. You don’t.”
“I’m asking because we need to examine every possibility.”
I turned toward the window.
Then remembered something.
Six months earlier, my attorney had updated the Vance family trust.
If I died, Chloe inherited nearly everything.
If Chloe died before adulthood—
I stopped breathing.
Detective Cole noticed.
“What is it?”
“My trust.”
“What about it?”
“If Chloe dies before she turns eighteen, her portion reverts to me.”
“And if something happens to you?”
I looked at her.
“My husband controls the marital trust until probate is completed.”
Silence.
Grant could not become rich by killing Chloe.
But if Chloe died first—
and then something happened to me—
the structure changed.
Detective Cole’s expression sharpened.
“Who knew those terms?”
“My attorney.”
“Anyone else?”
I remembered Grant sitting beside me when the documents were signed.
“My husband.”
The detective wrote something.
Then my phone rang.
Daniel.
“Evelyn, I found the connection between Grant and Marcus Hale.”
“What is it?”
“They’ve known each other for years.”
“How?”
“Gambling.”
I shut my eyes.
“How much?”
“We’re still tracing it.”
“Daniel.”
“At least four million.”
I almost dropped the phone.
Grant had no four million dollars of his own.
Not anymore.
Daniel continued.
“And Evelyn?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a life-insurance policy.”
“On me?”
“No.”
The next words arrived quietly.
“On Chloe.”
I looked at my sleeping daughter.
“How much?”
“Ten million dollars.”
I stopped breathing.
“Who is the beneficiary?”
Daniel answered.
May you like
And suddenly the ninety-nine calls, the disabled cameras, the fake medication and Grant’s escape toward international waters collided into one terrifying possibility.
“The beneficiary,” Daniel said, “is Grant.”
