Chapter 12 - The Other Yacht.
Lena thought she had reached the limit of what one night could contain.
She was wrong.
“My mother died when I was eight.”
Noah nodded.
“That was the official record.”
Lena stared at him.
“Do not say official record like that.”
He exhaled.
“The manifest listed a passenger using your mother’s full name.”
“Three years after she died?”
“Yes.”
“That is impossible.”
“Yes.”
“Then it was fake.”
“That is what I believe.”
Marianne stepped toward them.
“I never saw that manifest.”
Captain Mercer looked at her.
“Neither did I until the investigation ended.”
Lena pressed both hands against the deck rail.
Her mother, Caroline Whitmore, had died after a fast illness that Lena remembered mostly as hospital rooms, quiet voices, and adults pretending not to cry.
There had been a funeral.
There had been a grave.
There was no universe in which Caroline Whitmore had boarded the Meridian three years later.
Unless someone had used her name.
Lena turned to Noah.
“Who had access to my mother’s records?”
“Your family.”
Marianne shook her head.
“Half the company’s legal department would have had copies of old travel documents.”
Celeste joined them.
“Or someone with access to archived insurance files.”
Lena looked at her.
“Like an investigator.”
Celeste nodded.
The approaching vessel was closer now.
Its deck lights were bright against the black water.
Captain Mercer studied it through binoculars.
“Forty-five-foot motor yacht.”
Noah looked at him.
“Can we leave?”
“We can.”
Marianne answered first.
“We should.”
Lena looked toward the island.
The lighthouse stood dark and still.
Everything inside her wanted answers.
Everything inside her also wanted solid ground and a locked door.
Her phone vibrated with a text from Marcus.
I HAVE THE ORIGINAL MANIFEST.
A second message followed.
I ALSO HAVE THE RECORDING YOUR FATHER MADE AFTER THE STORM.
Lena’s heart jumped.
She showed the phone to Noah.
His expression changed.
“Do not go with him.”
“Why?”
“Because if he has had that recording for fifteen years, ask why he is offering it now.”
Marianne read the message over Lena’s shoulder.
“He never told me about a recording.”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed.
“That may be the point.”
The other yacht slowed beside them.
Marcus Dain appeared at the rail.
He was in his late thirties, neatly dressed in a navy windbreaker over a white shirt.
He looked less like a threat than an executive returning from a weekend meeting.
“Lena.”
She disliked hearing him use her first name.
Noah moved beside her.
Marcus smiled without warmth.
“Mr. Sterling.”
Captain Mercer called across the water.
“You are not authorized to board.”
Marcus raised both hands.
“I’m not asking to.”
He held up a brown document envelope.
“I’m offering information.”
Lena called back.
“Show me the manifest.”
Marcus removed a page and held it up.
From a distance, Lena could not read the details.
He tapped a line near the bottom.
“Noah Sterling.”
Then another.
“Caroline Whitmore.”
Lena’s stomach twisted.
Noah leaned close.
“A photocopy proves nothing.”
Marcus heard him.
“Then come inspect the original.”
“No,” Noah said.
Lena turned toward him.
“You don’t decide.”
“I know.”
“Then stop saying no for me.”
He lowered his voice.
“I’m asking you not to board a stranger’s vessel at night based on a document he could have fabricated.”
“That is fair.”
Noah seemed surprised by the answer.
Lena continued.
“But I am also not going onto that island with three people who have hidden major parts of my family history from me.”
Marianne flinched.
Lena looked at Captain Mercer.
“Can Marcus bring the documents here?”
The captain shook his head.
“Not without boarding.”
“Can I cross, inspect them, and come back?”
Noah’s jaw tightened.
Captain Mercer answered carefully.
“Yes.”
Marianne grabbed Lena’s arm.
“Do not.”
Lena looked down at her hand.
Marianne released her.
“Why?” Lena asked.
“Because Graham Dain destroyed evidence in the original investigation.”
Marcus’s voice carried across the water.
“That is a serious accusation.”
Marianne stepped to the rail.
“You know exactly what your father did.”
Marcus’s expression remained calm.
“He followed orders.”
“Whose?”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“That is what Lena deserves to learn without your version of events.”
Lena looked at the gap between the yachts.
A crew tender could move her safely across in less than a minute.
Noah stepped beside her.
“If you go, I’m going with you.”
Marcus immediately shook his head.
“No.”
Lena looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because the recording concerns Mr. Sterling.”
Noah gave a bitter laugh.
“Convenient.”
Marcus held up the envelope.
“Five minutes, Lena.”
“No signatures.”
“No conditions.”
Noah looked at her.
“Please keep your phone recording.”
Lena nodded.
She stepped into the tender with one crew member.
Noah watched from the rail, helpless and furious.
The crossing took forty seconds.
Marcus helped Lena onto his deck without touching her longer than necessary.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Show me the papers.”
He led her into a compact cabin.
On the table lay the original manifest beneath a clear protective sheet.
Lena bent over it.
The paper was old.
The ink looked authentic.
Noah Sterling appeared on the final line.
Caroline Whitmore appeared directly above it.
Lena stared at her mother’s name.
Marcus placed a small digital recorder beside the manifest.
“This was recovered from your father’s office two weeks after the disappearance.”
“Play it.”
Marcus pressed a button.
Static filled the cabin.
Then Lena heard a voice she had not heard since childhood.
Her father.
“If this reaches Lena, then I failed to come home.”
Lena stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“Do not trust the name on the manifest.”
A burst of static swallowed several words.
Then Elias’s voice returned.
“The person using Caroline’s name is the reason I had to disappear.”
Lena stared at Marcus.
The next sentence made him reach for the recorder too late.
May you like
“And if Graham Dain gives you this message, run from him.”
The Black Gift Box |
