Chapter 2
Laura stared at Claire as the security officer tested the handle.
The small crew storage room had no window.
No second exit.
Only shelves of folded sheets, cleaning bottles, and emergency supplies.
Hargrove knocked once.
Not loudly.
Almost politely.
“Ms. Prescott,” he said through the door. “Open up.”
Claire’s face drained of color.
“He knows I’m here.”
Laura took the phone from Claire.
The screen was locked.
“My code is six-two-nine-four,” Claire whispered. “I changed the password on your phone after I took it.”
Laura entered the numbers.
No signal.
The ship’s internal network icon showed full strength, but all outside calls were blocked.
“Did you remove this from the safe?”
Claire nodded.
“I entered your cabin before Nathan brought you there. I knew what he was planning.”
“Then why didn’t you warn me?”
“I tried.”
Claire’s voice broke.
“I sent three messages. Nathan deleted them from your phone before you saw them.”
Hargrove knocked again.
“Claire, your father wants you safe.”
Claire flinched.
Laura noticed a red mark around her wrist.
Fresh.
“Were you being held somewhere?”
“My cabin. Two guards were outside. I climbed through the bathroom access panel.”
Laura looked up.
A metal maintenance hatch was built into the ceiling.
She moved a stack of towels underneath it.
“Can that reach another corridor?”
Claire nodded quickly.
“It connects to the ventilation service walkway.”
Laura climbed onto the shelf.
Hargrove’s voice hardened.
“Open this door now.”
The lock shook.
Claire pushed the towels higher.
Laura forced the ceiling panel upward.
A narrow metal space appeared above them.
“Go,” Laura said.
Claire climbed first.
The door groaned as someone struck it from outside.
Laura followed and pulled the panel into place just as the lock broke.
Below them, Hargrove entered.
The women lay flat in darkness.
Laura could hear his breathing.
A flashlight beam moved across the floor.
“Search every room on this level,” Hargrove ordered into his radio. “The sister is assisting the suspect.”
Another voice answered.
“What should we tell Mr. Prescott?”
“Tell him the bride has the phone.”
Laura heard Nathan respond directly.
“Then change the plan. My father wants the wife alive. Claire is optional.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Laura took her hand.
The walkway was barely wide enough for them to crawl.
Metal pressed against Laura’s knees.
The ship’s engines vibrated beneath them.
They moved slowly until Hargrove’s voice faded.
After several minutes, Claire stopped at another hatch.
“This opens near the medical center,” she whispered.
“Is the doctor involved?”
“I don’t know. Some crew members are paid. Some are scared. A few may not know anything.”
Laura peered through the narrow gap.
An empty corridor stretched below.
She lowered herself first, then helped Claire down.
The medical center doors were twenty feet away.
Before they reached them, a nurse stepped into the hall.
She was in her fifties, with gray hair tied tightly behind her head.
Her name tag read DR. ELAINE MORROW.
She looked at Laura’s torn dress.
Then at Claire.
Then at the security officers turning the corner behind them.
“Inside,” Dr. Morrow said.
She opened the medical door.
Laura hesitated.
“Now.”
They entered.
Dr. Morrow locked the door and pulled a curtain across the glass.
“Do you have another exit?” Laura asked.
“Yes.”
“Can security access it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you helping us?”
Dr. Morrow reached beneath her desk and pulled out a small digital recorder.
“Because this is not the first honeymoon assault I have treated on a Prescott-owned charter.”
Claire stared at her.
“What?”
Dr. Morrow placed the recorder on the counter.
“Four years ago, a woman named Emily Reed came into this clinic with a fractured rib and a concussion. Her husband said she fell in the shower.”
Laura’s jaw tightened.
“Was her husband connected to Nathan’s family?”
“He was Nathan’s cousin.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared after the ship returned to Miami.”
Claire leaned against the wall.
Dr. Morrow continued.
“Two years ago, another woman arrived with bruising around her throat. Security claimed she had attacked her fiancé. She was sedated and removed from the ship.”
“Where is she now?” Laura asked.
“I do not know.”
A heavy fist struck the medical center door.
“Doctor,” Hargrove called. “Open immediately.”
Dr. Morrow ignored him.
“Last year, I began recording cases. Names, injuries, officers involved, medication orders. I sent copies to a federal investigator.”
Laura’s hope rose.
“What investigator?”
“Special Agent Daniel Ruiz.”
“Can we contact him?”
Dr. Morrow’s expression fell.
“He died in a car crash six weeks ago.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Laura looked at the recorder.
“Was it an accident?”
“I no longer believe so.”
The door shook again.
Dr. Morrow opened a locked cabinet and removed two crew jackets.
“Put these on.”
Claire grabbed one.
Laura did not.
“What exactly are the Prescotts doing on this ship?”
Dr. Morrow looked toward the door.
“Not here.”
“We may not get another chance.”
The doctor took a breath.
“This cruise line has private partnerships with several luxury development companies. Wealthy families use certain sailings for more than vacations.”
“What kind of partnerships?”
“Asset transfers. Secret settlements. Coercive agreements.”
Claire spoke quietly.
“They force wives to sign documents.”
Dr. Morrow nodded.
“Sometimes wives. Sometimes business partners. Sometimes witnesses.”
Laura remembered Nathan’s words.
The wife had to be trained.
Not killed.
Alive.
Compliant.
“There is a legal office onboard,” Claire said. “Deck Four. My father uses it during investor cruises.”
“Why would he need me to sign anything?” Laura asked.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because of your inheritance.”
Laura stared at her.
“My inheritance?”
Nathan had known Laura’s father died when she was a child.
He had known her mother raised her alone.
There was no family fortune.
At least none Laura knew about.
Claire reached inside her shirt and pulled out a folded page sealed in plastic.
“I found this in my father’s office.”
She opened it.
At the top was Laura’s full legal name.
LAURA MARIE BENNETT.
Below it was a trust account number.
Estimated value: $48.7 million.
Laura read it twice.
“This isn’t mine.”
“It is,” Claire said. “Your father did not die without money. He hid his ownership in a maritime engineering company.”
“My father repaired commercial engines.”
“That was the public story. He developed a stabilizing system used in offshore construction. Prescott Development stole the design after his death.”
Laura felt the room tilt.
“My mother would have told me.”
“Your mother may not have known.”
Dr. Morrow moved toward a locked rear door.
“We need to leave.”
Laura held the paper tighter.
“Why marry me? Why not simply hide the trust forever?”
Claire answered.
“Because the trust transfers to you when you turn thirty-two.”
Laura’s birthday was in twelve days.
Nathan had rushed the wedding.
He had insisted on the honeymoon cruise.
A private legal office onboard.
Documents waiting.
“You were supposed to sign control of the trust to Nathan,” Claire said. “After he broke you.”
Laura remembered the bat.
The fake recording.
Security waiting outside.
“If I refused?”
Claire looked away.
Dr. Morrow answered instead.
“You would be declared unstable.”
The pounding stopped.
Silence settled outside.
Laura did not like it.
“Hargrove moved away,” Claire whispered.
“No,” Laura said. “He changed tactics.”
A soft hiss came from the ceiling vent.
Dr. Morrow looked up.
Her eyes widened.
“Gas.”
Laura grabbed a rolling stool and struck the vent cover closed.
Dr. Morrow opened the rear exit.
“Move!”
They entered a narrow supply passage as white vapor began filling the clinic.
Dr. Morrow sealed the door behind them.
Claire coughed.
“Where does this go?”
“To the laundry deck.”
They ran through the passage.
Behind them, metal crashed.
Security had entered the clinic.
Dr. Morrow led them down a steep staircase.
At the bottom, industrial machines roared.
Crew members loaded sheets into massive washers.
No one noticed the three women in uniform moving through the steam.
Laura pulled the jacket closed over her dress.
“Where can we get an outside signal?”
“The upper communications room,” Dr. Morrow said. “But Hargrove controls access.”
“What about emergency beacons?”
“Locked behind bridge authorization.”
Claire stopped.
“My father has a satellite phone.”
“Where?” Laura asked.
“In his suite.”
Laura looked at her.
“You mean he’s onboard?”
Claire nodded.
“So is my mother.”
Laura felt a fresh wave of anger.
The entire family had joined the honeymoon.
Hidden from her.
Watching.
Waiting.
“What deck?” Laura asked.
“Deck Twelve. Private owners’ level.”
Dr. Morrow shook her head.
“That level is guarded.”
“Good,” Laura said.
Claire looked confused.
“Why is that good?”
“Because when people guard something heavily, they stop imagining anyone will come straight at it.”
They crossed the laundry floor and entered another service corridor.
Laura stopped at a wall map.
She studied the routes.
Owners’ level.
Security office.
Bridge.
Legal office.
Engine access.
Medical center.
Every location formed a network.
A trap built into the ship.
But traps worked both ways.
Laura pointed at a crew elevator.
“We go up through service access.”
Dr. Morrow shook her head.
“The elevator requires a key card.”
Claire held up a black card.
“I stole one.”
For the first time, Laura almost smiled.
They reached the elevator.
Claire swiped the card.
The light turned green.
The doors opened.
A man stood inside.
Tall.
Silver-haired.
Perfectly dressed in a dark suit.
Richard Prescott.
Nathan’s father.
He looked at Laura without surprise.
Then he glanced at the torn dress beneath her crew jacket.
“So,” Richard said calmly. “The Coast Guard girl is harder to break than expected.”
Laura stepped between him and Claire.
Richard held no visible weapon.
He did not need one.
Two men stood behind him.
Both were armed.
Richard pressed the button for Deck Twelve.
May you like
The elevator doors closed.
“No more running,” he said. “We are going to have a family conversation.”
