Chapter 7 - The Boathouse
Rain began before they reached the reservoir.
The abandoned boathouse stood beyond a locked iron gate, surrounded by pine trees and waist-high grass.
Its red roof had partially collapsed.
Broken windows faced the water.
Police vehicles stopped a quarter mile away to avoid warning anyone inside.
Detective Ruiz joined Helena’s security team near the tree line.
Maren waited in the armored SUV.
This time, she had agreed not to enter.
Not because she was afraid.
Because her body was failing beneath the strain.
Each breath still burned.
Her shoulder had swollen beneath the sling.
She hated that Reed’s violence could still make decisions for her.
Ruiz approached the vehicle.
“We found fresh tire tracks.”
“How many?”
“At least two vehicles.”
“Is Celeste inside?”
“We’re checking.”
Helena opened the rear door.
“I’m going with them.”
Maren looked at her.
“You’re not law enforcement.”
“No.”
“But I know the tunnels beneath the building.”
Maren almost laughed.
“Of course there are tunnels.”
“Your father never built anything with only one exit.”
Helena disappeared into the rain.
Minutes passed.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
Maren watched dark figures move around the building.
A burst of static came through the radio.
One of Helena’s men had located a lower entrance.
Another team found a recently installed surveillance system.
Then gunfire cracked across the water.
Maren’s body jerked.
The radio erupted with voices.
“Officer down.”
“Movement on the east side.”
“Suspect entering a vehicle.”
A black SUV crashed through the rear doors of the boathouse.
It accelerated along the shoreline.
Police vehicles pursued.
Maren saw only a glimpse of the driver.
Gray hair.
Sharp profile.
Conrad Mercer.
The SUV vanished between the trees.
Ruiz’s voice came over the radio.
“Building secured.”
“One victim located.”
Maren opened the vehicle door.
The medical aide tried to stop her.
She transferred into her wheelchair and rolled through the rain.
Mud caught beneath the wheels.
One of Helena’s security men pushed from behind.
Inside the boathouse, the smell of damp wood and gasoline filled the air.
Broken boards covered the floor.
A single bulb swung from the ceiling.
Celeste sat against a support beam.
Her wrists were bound.
A strip of tape covered her mouth.
Blood darkened one side of her blonde hair.
She was conscious.
When she saw Maren, her entire body sagged.
Helena cut the restraints.
Celeste ripped away the tape.
“Maren.”
Maren stopped several feet away.
She had imagined this moment during the drive.
In some versions, she struck her sister.
In others, she turned away.
Now she felt only exhaustion.
“Where are the recordings?”
Celeste stared at her.
“I thought you came for me.”
“I did.”
“But saving you does not erase what you did.”
Paramedics examined Celeste’s head.
She refused the stretcher.
“There’s a panel beneath the eastern stairs,” she said.
“Reed stored a black case inside.”
Ruiz sent an officer to search.
Celeste looked at Helena.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Celeste whispered, “Mom?”
Helena’s face broke again.
She stepped forward.
Celeste recoiled.
“You were alive.”
“Yes.”
“All these years?”
“Yes.”
Celeste laughed once.
The sound was empty.
“You left us.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“People always say that when they decide for someone else.”
Helena had no answer.
Ruiz returned carrying a black case.
Inside were six encrypted drives and three phones.
Celeste pointed to the smallest drive.
“That one has the dining room audio.”
“How do you know?” Ruiz asked.
“Reed played it for me.”
“When?”
“After Maren was taken away.”
Maren’s hands tightened.
“Why?”
“To remind me that my voice was on it.”
“He said if I turned against him, he would make sure I went to prison alone.”
“You were going to prison anyway,” Maren said.
Celeste lowered her gaze.
“I know.”
Ruiz began cataloging the evidence.
One of the phones rang.
The screen displayed REED.
Ruiz activated the recorder and handed it to Celeste.
“Answer.”
Celeste looked at Maren.
Then she accepted the call.
“Hello?”
Reed’s voice came through the speaker.
“You sound tired.”
Celeste went pale.
“Where are you?”
“You already know.”
“Conrad escaped.”
“He is very good at that.”
“You left me here.”
“I left you alive.”
“That was generous.”
Celeste’s eyes filled with anger.
“You promised we would leave together.”
“I promised many things.”
Reed’s voice remained calm.
“You were willing to believe all of them because they allowed you to hate your sister without admitting it was your choice.”
Maren watched Celeste absorb the words.
Reed continued.
“Has Maren arrived?”
Celeste looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Put me on speaker.”
“You already are.”
A quiet laugh.
“Of course.”
“Maren, did you enjoy meeting your mother?”
Maren answered.
“Not as much as you’ll enjoy meeting a jury.”
“The recordings won’t save you.”
“They don’t need to save me.”
“They only need to convict you.”
“Convict me of what?”
“An affair?”
“A private argument?”
“You still need physical proof that I contaminated the food.”
Ruiz’s expression confirmed it.
The sauce bottle had Reed’s fingerprints, but he could claim that was because he cooked dinner.
The recording might reveal intent, but they had not heard it yet.
Reed continued.
“Celeste removed the EpiPens.”
“Celeste placed the mislabeled container in the trash.”
“Celeste signed the insurance documents.”
Celeste shook her head.
“You told me—”
“I told you what you wanted to hear.”
His voice sharpened.
“Just as Maren did when she pretended you mattered to her.”
Maren leaned toward the phone.
“You’re finished, Reed.”
“No.”
“I am finally free of pretending to love you.”
The call ended.
Celeste began shaking.
Ruiz took the phone and signaled for the drives to be transported.
Maren looked toward the reservoir.
Conrad had escaped.
Reed believed the existing evidence could be explained.
And he had made certain Celeste carried the most visible part of the guilt.
An officer hurried into the boathouse.
“Detective, you need to see this.”
He handed Ruiz a tablet.
Security footage showed Conrad’s SUV reaching a private road.
A second vehicle waited there.
Reed stepped out.
He entered Conrad’s car.
Together, father and son drove north.
Ruiz checked the road map.
“They’re heading toward the Canadian border.”
Helena shook her head.
“No.”
“There is an airfield thirty miles north.”
Maren looked at the black case of recordings.
“Can we stop them?”
Ruiz called state police and federal aviation authorities.
Celeste wiped rain and tears from her face.
“You won’t find them at the airfield.”
“Why not?” Maren asked.
“Because that is where Reed wants you to look.”
Celeste pointed toward the reservoir.
“Dad kept a seaplane here.”
“Reed restored it last year.”
A distant engine roared across the water.
They ran to the broken windows.
A white seaplane emerged from behind a wooded island.
May you like
It lifted from the surface and climbed into the storm.
Reed and Conrad were gone.
