Chapter 4 - GREGORY'S MOTHER
Her message arrived at 2:14 a.m.
Unknown number.
Six words.
PLEASE DON'T LET HIM SEND YOU BACK.
Then:
THIS IS LYDIA.
Gregory’s mother.
I stared at the screen.
Marcus was across the room speaking quietly with a captain's representative.
Eric Dalton had been ordered to remain in his cabin while the captain reviewed the conflict.
Gregory remained under medical observation with security nearby.
At least that was what I was being told.
I typed:
Where are you?
Her response came immediately.
Miami.
Then another.
Victor doesn't know I have this phone.
I called.
Lydia answered on the first ring.
“Ashlynn?”
Her voice trembled.
“Are you safe?”
“For now.”
She began crying.
Quietly.
Not theatrically.
Like someone trying desperately not to make noise.
I remembered every family dinner.
Lydia sitting perfectly straight.
Hands folded.
Never interrupting.
Always checking Victor's face before answering questions.
I had mistaken silence for personality.
“What did you mean, send me back?”
She inhaled.
“Victor wants Gregory released.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice became urgent.
“You don't understand.”
“He has a helicopter scheduled in Nassau.”
“For Gregory?”
“For all of you.”
My stomach tightened.
“He intends to move you onto their yacht.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then:
“Because the cruise ship has cameras.”
I closed my eyes.
“And the yacht?”
“Belongs to Victor.”
Marcus noticed my face.
He walked toward me.
I put the call on speaker.
“Lydia,” I said.
“Chief Marcus Hale is with me.”
She stopped breathing.
Then whispered:
“Marcus?”
Marcus froze.
“You know me?”
Lydia began crying harder.
“You were Rebecca’s security contact.”
Marcus's face changed.
“What?”
“Rebecca Shaw.”
“How do you know that?”
“She called me.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Marcus moved closer.
“Mrs. Hartman, what happened to Rebecca?”
Lydia went silent.
“Lydia.”
I kept my voice gentle.
“You called me because you don't want this to happen again.”
She whispered:
“I tried to stop Victor.”
“What happened to Rebecca?”
“Gregory hurt her.”
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“On the cruise?”
“Yes.”
“How badly?”
“She left the cabin.”
“Then?”
“Eric brought her back.”
The room became completely still.
Marcus said:
“Back to Gregory?”
“No.”
Lydia's voice cracked.
“To Victor.”
I felt cold.
“Victor was onboard?”
“He flew in.”
“Why?”
“Because Gregory panicked.”
“What did Victor do?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Lydia.”
“I don't.”
She was crying now.
“I swear.”
“Rebecca disappeared after Nassau.”
Marcus asked:
“Was she alive when you last saw her?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Victor's yacht.”
My throat tightened.
“What yacht?”
“The Sovereign.”
Marcus immediately typed something into his phone.
“Registration?”
“I don't know.”
“What flag?”
“Cayman Islands, I think.”
Marcus turned to me.
“This needs federal involvement.”
I nodded.
Lydia continued.
“Ashlynn?”
“Yes?”
“There's something else.”
I waited.
“Gregory learned from his father.”
“I figured that out.”
“No.”
Her voice hardened for the first time.
“He didn't just watch Victor hurt me.”
A pause.
“Victor taught him.”
My stomach twisted.
“From when he was young?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Victor believed fear prevented disobedience.”
I closed my eyes.
The bat.
“This is how my dad kept my mom in line.”
It hadn't been bravado.
Gregory was repeating a family ritual.
“How long did Victor hurt you?”
Lydia didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
“Did anyone know?”
“My sister.”
“What happened?”
“She told me to leave.”
“Did you?”
“Once.”
“And?”
“Victor found me.”
Her breathing changed.
“After that, he made sure I had nowhere to go.”
“What does that mean?”
“He moved everything.”
“Money?”
“Yes.”
“Property?”
“Yes.”
“Phones.”
“Friends.”
“Doctors.”
“Lawyers.”
“He made everyone believe I was unstable.”
The same threat Victor had just used against me.
“I stopped fighting.”
I hated how she said it.
Not proudly.
Not defensively.
As though admitting it made her guilty.
Marcus asked:
“Why call now?”
Silence.
Then Lydia said:
“Because Ashlynn fought back.”
I looked at the phone.
“And I realized something.”
“What?”
“I spent thirty-two years thinking Victor was powerful because nobody could stop him.”
Her voice steadied.
“Maybe he was powerful because all of us stopped trying.”
Marcus and I looked at each other.
Then Lydia whispered:
“I have evidence.”
“What kind?”
“Recordings.”
“Where?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Does Victor know?”
“No.”
“What is on them?”
“Arguments.”
“Threats.”
“Payments.”
“And one conversation about Rebecca.”
Marcus became completely still.
“Lydia.”
“Yes?”
“Do not go to that bank.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Do not go home either.”
Silence.
“Too late.”
My pulse jumped.
“What?”
“I’m home.”
“Is Victor there?”
“No.”
Marcus grabbed another phone.
“Mrs. Hartman, leave the house now.”
“Why?”
“Because if Victor knows Ashlynn isn't cooperating, he may realize you contacted her.”
I heard a noise through Lydia’s phone.
A door closing somewhere.
She went silent.
“Ashlynn?”
“Yes.”
“Someone is inside.”
Marcus was already calling law enforcement.
“Lydia, lock yourself in a room.”
Footsteps sounded faintly.
Her breathing quickened.
Then a male voice in the background called:
“Mrs. Hartman?”
Not Victor.
Another man.
Lydia whispered:
“That's one of Victor’s drivers.”
“Don't answer.”
“Ashlynn…”
“What?”
“If something happens—”
“Nothing is happening.”
“Listen.”
Her voice became urgent.
“The deposit box is under my maiden name.”
“Lydia—”
“Mercer.”
Footsteps moved closer.
“Box 317.”
A door handle rattled.
“Password is Gregory’s birthday backward.”
“Lydia!”
The line disconnected.
I immediately called back.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Marcus lowered his own phone.
“Miami-Dade is responding.”
“How long?”
“Units are on the way.”
Not good enough.
I hated distance.
I hated being trapped at sea while a woman who had finally chosen to speak was alone in a house controlled by the man she feared.
Marcus stared toward the dark window.
Then his expression changed.
“What?”
“The ship.”
“What about it?”
“We're changing course.”
I looked outside.
The distant lights no longer sat in the same place.
“Toward Miami?”
Marcus checked his phone.
“No.”
“Where?”
His face hardened.
“Nassau.”
My chest tightened.
“Victor’s helicopter.”
Marcus nodded.
Then the shipwide announcement began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, due to an operational adjustment…”
I stopped listening.
May you like
Victor had made his move.
And somewhere in Miami, Lydia Hartman had just disappeared from the phone.
