Chapter 4 - The Woman Behind the Locked Door
Roderick stared at the ringing phone as though it were a bomb.
Lucas stared at him.
“Don't answer.”
Federal agents were getting closer.
Heavy footsteps.
Commands.
Doors opening.
Roderick's hand trembled.
The phone kept ringing.
MERCER.
“Who is Mercer?” I demanded.
Neither man answered.
Lucas moved toward me.
I stepped back.
“Stay away.”
He laughed once.
“You think the Coast Guard saves you and this is over?”
“Yes.”
“Then you're dumber than I thought.”
That hurt less than I expected.
Maybe betrayal had a saturation point.
After enough of it, new cruelty stopped penetrating.
Federal agents appeared behind me.
“Hands where we can see them!”
Lucas raised his hands.
Roderick hesitated.
The phone rang again.
An agent seized it.
Lucas was forced against the wall.
Metal cuffs snapped around his wrists.
I watched.
My husband.
My Prince Charming.
Handcuffed in the suite where three nights earlier he'd held me and promised we had fifty years ahead of us.
Roderick was restrained next.
The agent holding the phone looked at me.
“Ma'am, step outside.”
“Who is Mercer?”
“We'll determine that.”
“You need to answer that phone.”
“We will handle it.”
I hated hearing those words.
Everyone would handle it.
Everyone except me.
I had been the target.
My parents were targets.
My husband had married me for reasons I still didn't understand.
I wanted answers.
But shock was beginning to catch up with me.
My legs shook.
Elena appeared.
“Come with me.”
“What happened to Marcus?”
“Alive. Bullet grazed his shoulder.”
“And Gertrude?”
“Rowan still has her.”
My stomach tightened.
Even after what she had done, I didn't want Gertrude dead.
That frightened me in a different way.
Was compassion weakness?
My father always said no.
“Mercy and trust are not the same thing,” he used to tell me.
I followed Elena toward a protected lounge.
The Coast Guard had secured most of the yacht.
The storm continued raging outside.
Inside the lounge, a medic checked my pulse, blood pressure, and pupils.
“You've been sedated heavily.”
“What did they give me?”
“We'll need blood work.”
Elena handed him the discarded pills from my bathroom towel.
He sealed them in an evidence bag.
“Good thinking.”
I almost laughed.
Good thinking.
I had nearly swallowed my own murder weapon three nights in a row.
My phone rang.
Dad.
For the first time that night, I broke.
“Dad?”
“I'm here.”
His voice remained controlled.
But I heard something underneath.
Fear.
My father was almost never afraid.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother is with me.”
I closed my eyes.
“Lucas said—”
“We know.”
“Don't go to Utah.”
“We were never going.”
I opened my eyes.
“What?”
Silence.
My father's voice lowered.
“That trip wasn't real.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
“What do you mean?”
“I'll explain when you're home.”
“No. Explain now.”
“Not over this line.”
“Dad, my husband tried to murder me because of something involving you.”
Another pause.
Then he said, “That is exactly why we need to talk in person.”
The call ended two minutes later.
I sat staring at the dark screen.
The fake Utah trip.
Mercer.
The Swiss accounts.
The captain.
This was larger than inheritance.
Elena sat across from me.
“You knew?”
“About the Utah trip? No.”
“Do you work directly for my father?”
“Sometimes.”
“What does that mean?”
“He contracts private security. I handle maritime assignments.”
“You were already on the yacht before I called.”
“Yes.”
That landed differently.
“You were watching us?”
“Not you.”
“Lucas?”
Elena didn't answer.
“You were watching Lucas.”
Her silence confirmed it.
“How long?”
“Two weeks.”
Anger flashed through me.
“My father suspected him?”
“He suspected unusual financial activity.”
“And nobody told me?”
“That wasn't my decision.”
I stood.
The medic protested.
I ignored him.
“My father thought my fiancé might be dangerous and let me marry him?”
Elena's expression remained calm.
“He did not know Lucas intended violence.”
“He knew enough to put undercover security on my honeymoon.”
No answer.
I felt betrayed all over again.
Not like Lucas.
Nothing could equal that.
But still.
My father had known something.
And he had let me walk down the aisle.
A Coast Guard officer entered.
“We secured Rowan.”
“And Gertrude?”
“Alive.”
I exhaled.
“Where is she?”
“Being evaluated.”
“Can I see her?”
Elena looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because she knows things.”
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside a private cabin guarded by two federal officers.
Gertrude sat inside wrapped in a blanket.
No makeup.
Wet hair.
Face gray.
For the first time, she looked her age.
She looked at me.
Then looked away.
I entered.
“You tried to kill me.”
Her lips trembled.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No denial.
“Why?”
“Money.”
“Lucas said it wasn't about the money.”
Her head lifted sharply.
“What did he say?”
“He said it was about my father.”
Gertrude's fear changed.
Not guilt now.
Something deeper.
“You need to leave this yacht.”
“We're surrounded by federal agents.”
“That won't matter.”
“Who is Mercer?”
She stopped breathing.
There it was.
I moved closer.
“Who is he?”
“I can't.”
“You were willing to help murder me.”
Tears formed in her eyes.
“I know.”
“And now suddenly you have morals?”
“You don't understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
She looked toward the guarded door.
Then whispered:
“Mercer is not one man.”
My skin prickled.
“What?”
“It's a name.”
“For what?”
She lowered her voice further.
“A network.”
“What kind of network?”
“Financial. Political. Corporate. People who move money where it shouldn't move.”
I stared.
“What does that have to do with my father?”
“Daniel Sterling found something twelve years ago.”
“What?”
Gertrude shook her head.
“I don't know all of it.”
“You know enough.”
She began crying.
“Roderick said it was supposed to be financial pressure. Lucas was supposed to marry you, get access, get signatures.”
“And then?”
“Your father wouldn't cooperate.”
“With what?”
“A sale.”
“What sale?”
“I don't know!”
She covered her face.
“Then Lucas changed the plan.”
“To murder.”
“Yes.”
“And you agreed.”
Her shoulders shook.
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“Why?”
“Because Roderick said if we didn't, Mercer would destroy us.”
I stared.
“You expect me to believe you're victims?”
“No.”
Gertrude looked at me.
“I expect you to believe we were cowards.”
That was the first truthful thing she had said.
Then she reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Lucas didn't choose you randomly.”
My pulse slowed.
“What does that mean?”
“He knew who you were before you met.”
Of course he did.
I was Daniel Sterling's daughter.
“No.”
Gertrude shook her head.
“I mean before the gala.”
The gala.
Where Lucas and I supposedly met by accident.
“He had photographs of you.”
My stomach dropped.
“From when?”
“College.”
I stared at her.
“You're lying.”
“I saw them.”
She swallowed.
“Pictures of you leaving classes. At restaurants. With friends. Years before you met him.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Lucas hadn't targeted me for months.
He had targeted me for years.
Gertrude continued.
“There was one woman who helped him.”
“Who?”
“I never knew her name.”
“What did she look like?”
“Blonde. Maybe thirty-five. American. She met Lucas twice in Geneva.”
Geneva.
Swiss accounts.
Mercer.
“What did she do?”
“She gave him your schedule.”
My blood went cold.
“Who had access to my schedule?”
Gertrude looked at me.
“Someone inside your father's company.”
A knock interrupted us.
An officer stepped inside.
“Ma'am, we need you to come with us.”
“Why?”
The officer's expression was unreadable.
“We found someone aboard the yacht.”
I stared.
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“Crew?”
“No.”
“Passenger?”
“No record of her.”
My heart began pounding.
“Where?”
The officer paused.
“In a locked maintenance cabin beneath the engine deck.”
I followed him through corridors I barely recognized.
The lower we went, the hotter the air became.
At the final stairwell, agents surrounded a steel door.
The lock had been cut.
Inside was a narrow room.
A cot.
Water bottles.
A laptop.
Communication equipment.
And a woman sitting calmly in a chair.
Blonde.
Mid-thirties.
Perfect posture.
She looked at me.
Then smiled.
May you like
“I've been waiting twelve years to meet you.”
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