Chapter 4 - The Voice Inside The Safe Deposit Box
“Come out,” Garrett ordered.
His gun remained level with the iron threshold.
My heart hammered against my throat.
I could see the black barrel through the gap in the hinges.
Tobias didn't move an inch.
His breathing was completely silent.
He held a six-inch steel pry bar in his right hand.
He prepared to lunge.
“Garrett, stop,” Penelope hissed, tugging his arm.
“The bank guards will hear you!”
“There are cameras in the corridor!”
Garrett’s eyes flicked to the ceiling corners.
“The cameras loop every fifteen minutes,” he spat.
“I paid the security director five grand to wipe this morning’s tape.”
He took a slow step toward our hiding spot.
“Rosalind,” Garrett called out softly.
The honey had returned to his voice.
The same sickening sweetness he used when he tucked me in.
“If you’re hiding back there, sweetheart, come out.”
“You’re confused.”
“The car crash was a tragedy.”
“I tried to save you.”
“The current was too strong.”
Lies rolled off his tongue like water over glass.
He stepped closer.
His polished Italian shoe crossed the shadow line.
Tobias tensed his legs.
He was about to strike.
Suddenly, a security buzzer blared from the upper lobby.
A guard’s voice echoed over the intercom:
“Mr. Vance? Are you still down there?”
“The harbor police are on line one.”
“They found the vehicle.”
Garrett froze.
His gun lowered slightly.
Penelope clutched his lapel.
“We have to go,” she whispered frantically.
“If the police are calling, they found the bodies.”
“Or they found the empty car.”
Garrett stared into the dark alcove for three long seconds.
His jaw muscles flexed.
“Whoever is back there,” Garrett whispered into the gloom.
“You won't leave this city alive.”
He shoved the weapon back into his shoulder holster.
He turned on his heel.
He and Penelope rushed toward the marble stairs.
The vault door clanged shut behind them.
I collapsed against Tobias’s shoulder.
My knees finally buckled.
“He had a gun,” I breathed.
“He was ready to execute us right here.”
“He’s cornered,” Tobias said coldly.
“A cornered rat bites anything that moves.”
“We need to see what the police pulled out of that river.”
We slipped out the service exit into the rain.
Tobias drove us to the old industrial canal across from Pier 14.
Dozens of emergency vehicles lined the wharf.
Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the slate-gray water.
A massive crane was hoisting our black SUV from the depths.
River mud cascaded off the crumpled hood.
The rear cargo door hung open.
The side windows were blown out.
We watched through binoculars from the cab of our pickup.
Garrett’s black town car pulled through the police tape.
Garrett stepped out.
He stumbled forward.
He threw his hands over his face and fell to his knees in the mud.
He performed the role of a devastated widower to perfection.
Reporters swarmed him like vultures.
Microphones were shoved into his face.
Penelope stood behind him, dabbing at fake tears with a lace handkerchief.
A diver in a black neoprene suit climbed out of the water.
He walked over to the lead detective.
He shook his head.
Tobias adjusted the binoculars.
“The diver just told the detective the cab was empty,” Tobias said.
“Look at Garrett’s face.”
I took the binoculars.
Garrett had lowered his hands from his face.
He was looking down at his phone.
He wasn't crying.
His expression was pure, lethal calculation.
He raised his head and caught the gaze of the lead detective.
Detective Marcus Vance.
Garrett’s first cousin.
Marcus nodded once to Garrett.
A subtle, nearly invisible movement of the chin.
“The police are in on it,” I gasped, dropping the glasses.
“Marcus Vance was assigned to the case?”
“Of course he was,” Tobias said with bitter calm.
“Marcus was the one who investigated Mom and Dad’s death fifteen years ago.”
“He closed the file as an accidental rollover within forty-eight hours.”
The entire world felt like a venomous web.
Every institution.
The shipyard board.
The police precinct.
My own family home.
All of it had been constructed to harvest our family’s wealth.
“We can’t go to the authorities,” I said.
“No,” Tobias agreed.
“We have to dismantle them from the shadows.”
“Where do we start?”
Tobias put the truck in gear.
“We start with Penelope’s doctor.”
“Why Penelope’s doctor?”
“Because that baby she’s carrying isn't Garrett’s first attempt at an heir.”
Tobias pulled a leather notebook from under the truck seat.
“Two years ago, Penelope visited an elite fertility clinic in New York.”
“She used an alias.”
“She was trying to carry a child to term using donor tissue.”
“Whose donor tissue?” I asked.
Tobias looked at me through the rearview mirror.
“Yours, Rosalind.”
“What did you say?”
My voice sounded small, like a child’s.
“When you had that ovarian surgery four years ago,” Tobias said.
“Garrett had your tissue frozen at the Mercer Research Center.”
“He told you it was for your future family.”
“Penelope isn't just carrying his child.”
“She’s carrying your biological child.”
“They intended to kill you, forge an adoption record, and make that baby the
sole heir to the Mercer billions.”
A scream tore from my throat.
It was an animal sound.
A mother’s rage that had nowhere to go.
They hadn't just tried to poison me.
They hadn't just tried to drown me.
They had stolen my flesh to steal my bloodline.
“Drive,” I said.
My voice was no longer shaking.
It was ice.
“Where?” Tobias asked.
“To Penelope’s private clinic,” I told him.
“I’m going to tear that building apart with my bare hands.”
Tobias stepped on the accelerator.
The truck sped down the highway.
Twenty minutes later, my burner phone rang.
It was the unknown number again.
I answered and put it on speaker.
“You found the box,” the disguised voice whispered.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“A friend who wants to see Garrett burn,” the voice replied.
“Listen carefully, Rosalind.”
“Garrett just dispatched three men to your grandmother’s estate in Newport.”
“They’re going to burn the archives before the board meeting tomorrow.”
May you like
“Everything your father hid is inside that library.”
“If those papers burn, Garrett Vance owns your family forever.”
