Chapter 4 - Midnight on the Starboard DeckThe first thing I noticed was the silence.
“You want me to let my husband try to kill me?”
“I want him caught attempting it.”
“Those are two very different things.”
“Not tonight.”
She opened a cabinet stacked with towels and pulled out a laminated diagram of the yacht.
“We’re thirty-eight nautical miles from the nearest inhabited island. Reed controls the navigation systems, satellite communications, bridge access, and emergency protocols.”
“And the crew?”
“Two deckhands are involved. Marcus Hale and Devon Briggs.”
I remembered them.
Both had been polite all week.
Both had watched me eat breakfast that morning.
I felt sick.
“Chef Marcello?”
“Safe.”
“Engineer?”
“Safe.”
“The second steward?”
“Safe.”
“Then why don’t we confront them together?”
“Because Reed has a firearm locked on the bridge.”
That shut me up.
Evelyn continued.
“He also has authority aboard this vessel. If he claims you became hysterical, attacked your husband, or attempted suicide, what happens?”
I knew the answer.
Nothing good.
Grant had spent three days making me visibly ill.
He could easily build a story around that.
“Evidence first,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
I looked at the recorder.
“You recorded them?”
“Not enough. I caught Grant discussing payment with Marcus. I don’t have the murder plan.”
“I heard it.”
“A prosecutor needs more than your word.”
The word prosecutor made everything horrifyingly real.
This was no longer a marriage crisis.
It was a criminal conspiracy.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Act normal.”
“I’m doing that.”
“Better.”
Evelyn’s face softened slightly.
“Claire, men like Grant notice fear when they expect trust.”
I hated how true that was.
“What happens at midnight?”
“Before midnight, I disable the cameras—but not the way they think.”
She showed me the recorder.
“I’m installing backup video.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere that matters.”
For the next hour, Evelyn explained a plan that sounded insane.
And therefore, possibly perfect.
At seven o’clock Grant had arranged a private dinner on the upper deck.
He wanted candles.
Champagne.
Music.
Our “last honeymoon dinner,” though I was the only one who knew how literal that phrase was.
Grant believed my medication would make me disoriented by eleven-thirty.
At eleven-forty-five, Evelyn was supposed to kill surveillance on the starboard deck.
At eleven-fifty-five, Marcus and Devon were supposed to clear the area.
Then Grant would ask me to walk outside with him.
After midnight, I would disappear.
By sunrise, Grant would raise the alarm.
A distraught husband.
An intoxicated or medicated bride.
A terrible accident.
Except Evelyn intended to replace the disabled camera feed with two battery-powered hidden cameras.
One in the deck light.
One inside the decorative life-ring cabinet.
“We need audio too,” she said.
“I have my phone.”
“No service doesn’t mean no recording.”
I opened the voice memo app.
“Keep it with you.”
“I’m wearing a swimsuit and robe.”
She looked me over.
“We’ll fix that.”
At five-thirty, Evelyn returned to my cabin carrying a pale pink evening dress.
Grant had arranged it as a surprise.
Of course he had.
Apparently, my husband wanted me looking beautiful when he murdered me.
The dress had a narrow waist.
Evelyn sewed a tiny recorder into the inner lining.
Then she attached another device beneath a jeweled clasp near my shoulder.
“What’s that?”
“Emergency locator.”
“Will Reed know?”
“Only when I activate it remotely.”
I looked in the mirror.
The woman looking back appeared calm.
Blonde hair.
Sun-kissed shoulders.
Diamond earrings Grant had given me before the wedding.
Nobody would guess she had spent the afternoon preparing to survive an assassination attempt.
At six-forty, Grant walked in.
He stopped.
“Wow.”
I forced a smile.
“You like it?”
He approached me slowly.
“You’re beautiful.”
His voice sounded genuine.
That was almost worse.
He kissed me.
I kissed him back.
And somewhere inside my dress, a recorder captured everything.
Grant held my waist.
“For a woman who’s been sick all day, you look suspiciously alive.”
My heart jumped.
I laughed.
“Complaining?”
“Never.”
His eyes remained on mine.
Then he smiled.
“Tonight is going to change everything.”
I almost answered, I know.
Instead, I said, “I hope so.”
Dinner began at seven.
The sunset was extraordinary.
Orange light spread across the horizon.
Grant toasted our future.
I toasted to surprises.
He laughed at that.
At nine-fifteen, Captain Reed joined us.
I pretended to be slightly drunk.
I deliberately let my words become slower.
Grant looked pleased.
At ten, he gave me another pill.
I hid it beneath my tongue.
At ten-thirty, I stumbled convincingly when I stood.
Grant caught me.
“Easy.”
“I’m okay.”
“Maybe you should lie down.”
“No.” I wrapped my arms around him. “I want to stay with you.”
He kissed my forehead.
Over his shoulder, I saw Evelyn.
She was carrying a tray.
Our eyes met.
One second.
Then she looked away.
The plan was moving.
At eleven-twenty, Grant brought me to our cabin.
“Stay here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Surprise.”
He smiled and left.
The second the door closed, I ran to the bathroom and vomited.
Not from drugs.
From terror.
I stared at myself in the mirror.
Thirty-eight minutes.
My hands shook violently.
I ran cold water over them.
Then someone knocked.
Three quick taps.
Pause.
Two taps.
Evelyn’s signal.
I opened the door.
She slipped inside.
“Everything is ready.”
“Coast Guard?”
“Beacon activates at eleven-fifty-eight.”
“That gives them two minutes.”
“It gives them our location. Response will take longer.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-five minutes if we’re lucky.”
Twenty-five minutes.
Grant needed only seconds to throw me overboard.
“What if he succeeds before they arrive?”
“He won’t.”
“How can you know?”
“I’ll be close.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She handed me something.
A thin black cord.
“What’s this?”
“Inflatable survival belt. Hidden beneath your dress.”
I stared at her.
“You think I might actually go into the water.”
“I think we plan for everything.”
I wrapped the belt around my waist.
At eleven-forty-two, the lights flickered.
Evelyn’s radio crackled.
“Cameras down,” Captain Reed said.
Evelyn answered calmly.
“Confirmed.”
My blood turned to ice.
Then footsteps approached.
Grant opened the cabin door.
He had changed into a white linen shirt.
He looked relaxed.
Happy.
Like a man already celebrating.
He held out his hand.
“Come with me.”
I looked at his hand.
Then his face.
“Where?”
“Outside.”
May you like
He smiled.
“I want to show you the stars.”
