Chapter 8: The Ledger That Could Destroy Us
Captain Mercer refused to let me return to the deck.
“You've been in the ocean,” he said.
“You're suffering from cold exposure, you've barely eaten, and you can hardly stand.””
“I'm not staying here while Graham destroys the evidence.””
“I'm not asking you to stay here forever. I'm asking you to remain alive long enough for the authorities to do their jobs.””
I pushed the thermal blanket off my shoulders.
“Graham knows where the original ledger is. My father says everything depends on it.””
“Your father has the duplicate.””
“Then why does Graham need the original?””
The captain glanced at Miguel.
Neither man answered immediately.
That frightened me more than a direct explanation would have.
Finally, Miguel pulled up a chair.
“Because the original ledger may contain names that aren't in the duplicate.””
“Whose names?””
“People who helped move the money. People who received payments. Maybe people who had nothing to do with Graham but were used to hide the transactions.””
“And you think my father is one of them?””
“No,” Miguel said quickly.
“I think Victor wants you to believe that.””
I looked down at the documents spread across the table.
The bank transfer listed a company called Northstar Maritime Holdings. The recipient account was registered offshore, but the transfer authorization carried a familiar signature.
Graham's.
“How much?”” I asked.
Captain Mercer read the figure aloud.
“Eleven million, four hundred thousand dollars.””
I stared at him.
“That's not a small amount of money.””
“No.””
“How long has this been happening?””
“According to the ship's log, Victor began asking questions about your family's financial arrangements nearly two years ago,” the captain replied.
“He was gathering information before you and Graham became engaged.””
I sank onto the bench.
Two years.
Before the proposal. Before the wedding. Before the romantic dinners and the kisses on my forehead.
How many times had Graham held my hand while calculating the value of my death?
I pressed my palms against my eyes.
Miguel crouched beside me.
“Natalie, look at me.””
I lowered my hands.
“You didn't cause this.””
“I should have listened to my father.””
“Perhaps. But listening to him wouldn't have made Graham honest.””
The words settled into the room.
I took a breath.
“Tell me about Greyhook Cove.””
Captain Mercer unfolded a nautical chart.
“It is a narrow inlet along the coast, with a private dock that was decommissioned several years ago. The entrance is dangerous in bad weather, particularly at night.””
“Could a tender reach it?””
“Yes. A small boat could enter through the eastern channel.””
“And a patrol vessel?””
“Not quickly in these conditions.””
I studied the chart.
A narrow line marked the entrance. Beyond it lay a network of rocky shallows and abandoned docks.
“What's at the old dock?””
“Nothing officially.””
“Unofficially?””
The captain's expression hardened.
“Victor once owned a storage facility there. It was sold through a company associated with Northstar Holdings.””
I looked at Miguel.
“The same company that received the money?””
He nodded.
A terrible thought formed.
“What if the original ledger is there?””
Captain Mercer traced the route with his finger.
“Graham may be heading to the storage facility.””
“Then we need to get there before him.””
“No.””
“Captain—”
“No, Natalie. I will not take this yacht into that inlet during a storm. I won't endanger the crew because you want to confront your husband.””
“I don't want to confront him. I want to stop him from destroying evidence and hurting anyone else.””
“You can't do that alone.””
“I won't be alone.””
I lifted the communicator.
“Mara?””
Her voice came immediately.
“I'm here.””
“Can you send a local unit to Greyhook Cove?””
“Already done. A coastal patrol team is heading toward the inlet, but the weather is making the approach difficult. They expect to reach the outer channel within forty minutes.””
“Forty minutes is too long.””
“It's the fastest they can safely travel.””
I turned to the captain.
“Can you bring us close enough to the outer channel to guide the patrol?””
“That's possible.””
“Then let's do that.””
Captain Mercer looked as though he wanted to argue.
Instead, he studied my face.
“You really are your father's daughter.””
“I hope that's a compliment.””
“It is.””
He turned to the crew member at the doorway.
“Prepare the yacht for a controlled course change. Keep the engines below maximum load. No one approaches the stern without authorization.””
The crew member hurried away.
I looked at the security footage Miguel had salvaged earlier.
The image of Graham entering the captain's cabin played in my mind. He had carried a blue folder when he left.
Could that folder have contained the original ledger?
Or was it simply another lie?
“Miguel,” I said, “can we check the captain's cabin?””
He nodded.
We moved through the corridor together.
The captain's cabin was small but immaculate. A wooden desk stood beside a narrow bunk, and the curtains were fastened tightly against the storm.
Captain Mercer unlocked a drawer.
Inside were navigation records, copies of the ship's registration, and a black notebook containing maintenance entries.
But the blue folder was missing.
“Someone searched this place,” I said.
The captain nodded.
“They took the navigation records from the upper shelf and left the maintenance log. They knew what they wanted.””
I examined the desk.
A faint rectangular outline marked the dust where something had once rested.
“Was the ledger kept here?””
“No.””
“Then what was Graham looking for?””
Captain Mercer studied the empty space.
“My original route authorization.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
“To make his forged document appear genuine. If he had the original, he could copy my signature precisely.””
“Where is it?””
The captain looked toward the bunk.
He knelt and pulled out a narrow metal case from beneath it.
Inside lay a sealed envelope.
“Here.””
He opened it and removed a signed document bearing my father's name and the yacht's registration details.
“This is the authorization your father gave me before you left Newport,” he said.
“It confirms the planned destination, the passenger list, and the agreed route.””
I read the document twice.
My father's signature was genuine.
The authorization had been dated two weeks before the wedding.
But beneath the signature was a line that made me stop.
*No person other than the captain may alter the route without the owner's written consent.*
“Graham had no authority to change the itinerary.””
“None whatsoever.””
I took a photograph and sent it to Mara.
“That's another crime he can't explain away.””
“It's evidence of unauthorized diversion,” she replied.
“And with the other documents, it establishes a pattern. Keep it safe.””
We returned to the main corridor.
A crew member hurried toward us.
“Captain, we've established contact with the tender.””
Captain Mercer stopped.
“Who answered?””
“Mr. Whitmore.””
“What did he say?””
The crew member hesitated.
“He says Mrs. Whitmore is dead. He claims he saw her fall and that the captain is holding the rest of the passengers against their will.””
I stared at him.
“He's telling them I'm dead?””
May you like
“Yes, ma'am.””
A cold, strange
