Chapter 8 - MY FATHER

I called Dad immediately.

No answer.

Again.

Nothing.

Marcus grabbed his keys.

“We go together.”

The message included an address.

An old marina.

“Daniel said alone.”

Marcus looked at me.

“Daniel also tried to roast you in a basement.”

We called police.

Dad finally answered while we were driving.

“Claire?”

“Dad, where are you?”

“Home.”

“Lock the doors.”

“What happened?”

“Just do it.”

Then his line went dead.

Police reached his house seven minutes later.

He was gone.

The back door was open.

No sign of forced entry.

On his desk sat a photograph from my wedding.

Daniel had written across it:

FAMILY REQUIRES SACRIFICE.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I became very calm.

“What do they want?”

Naomi answered.

“The trust.”

“Then we give them what they think they want.”

At the marina, Marcus hid near the boat sheds.

Police stayed farther back.

I walked alone toward Pier 6.

Margaret stood beside a yacht.

Immaculate coat.

Perfect hair.

As if this were brunch.

“Where’s my father?”

“Safe.”

“Where?”

“Once you sign.”

She held out documents.

“I already know your game.”

Margaret smiled.

“You know nothing.”

“You forged my prenup.”

“Harold made an administrative correction.”

“You forged life insurance documents.”

“Daniel worries about your future.”

“You kidnapped my father.”

Her smile vanished.

“Lower your voice.”

I stepped closer.

“You ruined Rebecca’s life too, didn’t you?”

Margaret’s face hardened.

“Rebecca was unstable.”

“Where is she?”

“She ran.”

“Then why did Daniel declare her dead?”

Margaret hesitated.

There.

The first crack.

“Sign the papers.”

“No.”

A door on the yacht opened.

Daniel dragged Dad onto deck.

My father’s hands were tied.

Blood marked his temple.

“Claire!” Dad shouted.

Daniel pressed something against his back.

A gun.

My knees nearly buckled.

“Sign it,” Daniel said.

I looked down at the transfer documents.

Then at my father.

He shook his head.

“No.”

Daniel shoved him.

“Quiet.”

Dad looked at me.

“Don’t give these people a damn thing.”

Margaret snapped.

“Sign!”

I picked up the pen.

Daniel relaxed.

That was his mistake.

Because the pen contained a transmitter Marcus had given me.

And the papers were fake.

I signed.

Margaret grabbed them.

Daniel smiled.

“See? We can still be reasonable.”

Then police lights exploded across the marina.

Daniel spun.

Dad drove his shoulder into Daniel’s chest.

The gun fired.

Someone screamed.

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My father fell.

And Daniel jumped from the yacht into the black water below.