Chapter 2 - THE MAN OUTSIDE THE DOOR
The knock came again.
Three slow hits.
Heavy enough to carry through the cabin.
“Mr. Hartman?”
Gregory was still pinned against the wall.
His breathing had changed.
A moment earlier, he had been afraid of me.
Now he was smiling.
“Is your wife under control yet?” the man outside asked.
Gregory laughed softly.
“See?”
I didn't answer.
My eyes went to the aluminum bat lying across the carpet.
Then to the deadbolt.
Then to Gregory.
He thought whoever stood outside belonged to him.
Maybe he did.
That didn’t mean I had to play the role Gregory expected.
I eased pressure from his arm.
Just slightly.
His body immediately tensed.
He thought I had made a mistake.
I hadn’t.
“You’re going to answer him,” I whispered.
Gregory turned his head.
“And say what?”
“That everything is fine.”
He grinned.
“And then?”
“Then we find out whether you’re as important as you think you are.”
His smile vanished.
I moved him away from the wall and toward the door while maintaining control of his wrist.
“Talk.”
Gregory cleared his throat.
“Everything’s fine.”
Silence outside.
Then:
“That doesn't sound convincing, Mr. Hartman.”
Gregory froze.
So did I.
The voice changed.
Not warmer.
Not friendlier.
Just sharper.
Professional.
“Open the door, Mrs. Hartman.”
Gregory’s eyes widened.
“He knows who you are,” I whispered.
He said nothing.
The man outside continued.
“And Gregory?”
A pause.
“Keep your hands where Ashlynn can see them.”
Gregory went pale.
That was all I needed.
I released him and moved backward.
Not because I trusted the man outside.
Because Gregory clearly didn’t.
I unlocked the door.
Then stood behind it rather than directly in front.
Old habits.
Never stand in the fatal funnel.
The door opened six inches.
A large man stood outside wearing the dark navy uniform of senior ship security.
Early forties.
Close-cropped brown hair going gray at the temples.
Broad shoulders.
No weapon in his hands.
Another security officer stood several steps behind him.
The first man looked through the opening.
His eyes went immediately to Gregory.
Then the bat.
Then me.
“Ashlynn Carter?”
I stiffened.
Very few people used Carter anymore.
Everyone onboard knew me as Mrs. Hartman.
“Yes.”
The man exhaled.
“My name is Marcus Hale.”
Something about the name tugged at my memory.
Before I could place it, he looked directly at Gregory.
“You picked the wrong honeymoon.”
Gregory stepped forward.
“My father employs you.”
Marcus almost smiled.
“No.”
“My father has your contract.”
“Your father has a contract with Atlantic Crown Security.”
Marcus touched the badge on his chest.
“I work for the cruise line.”
“He owns part of this company.”
“He owns shares.”
Gregory’s expression hardened.
“Same thing.”
“Only to people raised like you.”
Marcus looked at me.
“May I come in?”
“Why did you ask if his wife was under control?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Because I wanted him to answer.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’ve been listening to this cabin for eleven minutes.”
Gregory’s face drained.
I stared at Marcus.
“What?”
He pointed above the door.
There was a smoke detector.
“Emergency audio monitoring.”
Gregory looked up.
“That’s illegal.”
Marcus looked almost amused.
“Your wife triggered the cabin distress sensor.”
“I did?”
Marcus nodded toward the wall.
“When you kicked the bat away, it struck the lower emergency panel.”
I remembered the sound.
I had assumed it hit the baseboard.
“You heard everything?”
“Enough.”
Gregory suddenly became very quiet.
Marcus stepped into the cabin.
He put on gloves.
Photographed the bat.
Photographed the suitcase.
Then stopped.
Something inside the suitcase had caught his attention.
“What?”
Marcus crouched.
“Don’t touch anything.”
He moved one folded shirt.
Then another.
Beneath them was a small black device.
A camera.
Pointed toward the bed.
My stomach turned.
Gregory spoke quickly.
“That isn’t mine.”
Marcus looked at him.
“It was inside your suitcase.”
“My father packed part of it.”
That sentence escaped before Gregory could stop himself.
I stared at him.
“Your father packed your honeymoon suitcase?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I meant he gave me the luggage.”
Marcus removed the tiny camera.
“There’s an active storage card.”
Gregory lunged.
Marcus moved faster.
He shoved Gregory against the wall and cuffed one wrist before Gregory understood what had happened.
Gregory screamed.
“Get off me!”
Marcus secured the second wrist.
“You are being detained under shipboard security authority pending investigation of an alleged assault with a weapon.”
“My father will own your house by morning.”
Marcus checked the cuffs.
“Tell him my mortgage could use the help.”
Gregory stared at him with absolute hatred.
I should have felt relief.
Instead, something bothered me.
Marcus knew my maiden name.
He knew enough to tell Gregory to keep his hands where I could see them.
And when he entered the room, he had looked at me like someone seeing a person he already knew.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
“How do you know me?”
He hesitated.
That was the first thing he did that frightened me.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because we have a larger problem.”
He looked toward the hallway officer.
“Take Mr. Hartman to Medical Security.”
Gregory began shouting.
“You can't do this!”
Marcus ignored him.
The second officer escorted Gregory away.
His voice faded down the hallway.
Marcus closed the cabin door.
Then turned toward me.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Ashlynn.”
“I said no.”
His expression changed slightly.
Not annoyed.
Respectful.
“Fair enough.”
He removed his phone.
Opened a file.
Turned the screen toward me.
It was my military service photograph.
Taken years earlier.
Hair pulled tightly back.
Uniform immaculate.
Below it were training qualifications.
Instructor certifications.
Service dates.
And information I had never placed on any résumé Gregory had seen.
My stomach tightened.
“Where did you get that?”
“Background screening.”
“For passengers?”
“No.”
He locked the phone.
“For you specifically.”
I stared.
“Who requested it?”
Marcus was silent.
“Who?”
“Victor Hartman.”
Gregory’s father.
Cold moved through me.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
Before the wedding.
Before the cruise.
Before Gregory had supposedly discovered anything about my military past.
I felt the room become smaller.
“Why would Victor investigate me?”
“We don't know.”
“We?”
Marcus looked toward the hidden camera.
“My team has been quietly investigating the Hartman family for eight months.”
“What for?”
He studied me.
Then said:
“You are not the first woman Gregory Hartman brought onto one of these ships.”
I stopped breathing.
“What happened to the others?”
Marcus's expression hardened.
“That's what we’ve been trying to determine.”
“Others?”
“Three women.”
“Wives?”
“One fiancée.”
“One girlfriend.”
“And?”
Marcus looked directly at me.
“One woman whose family hasn’t seen her in four years.”
The cabin went silent.
Then my eyes slowly moved toward the baseball bat.
Marcus followed my gaze.
“That bat,” he said quietly, “may be a lot older than your marriage.”
And suddenly I understood something terrifying.
May you like
Gregory hadn’t invented tonight.
He had inherited it.
