Chapter 14 - What My Father Was Really Afraid OfMartin survived.
Barely.
He had been struck in the parking garage, but a security camera caught the attack.
The police arrested no one.
My father disappeared.
Jesse went to stay with a friend.
My mother remained at the hotel.
And I sat aboard Solstice reading every page my grandmother had left.
Then I found it.
A handwritten note taped inside the back cover of the blue notebook.
The one stolen from my desk.
Someone had returned it.
It was sitting on my cabin table.
I hadn't heard anyone come aboard.
The note said:
Westlake is not the treasure.
Underneath:
Westlake is the lock.
I read it again.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Who is this?”
My father's voice.
“Hannah.”
I stood.
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“For you?”
“For now.”
“You tried to claim my boat.”
“I needed leverage.”
“You forged my name.”
“I needed protection.”
“You stole from Grandma.”
“No.”
His voice became sharper.
“She hid money from us.”
“It wasn't yours.”
“It was family money.”
“It belonged to me.”
He was silent.
Then said:
“You've never understood what your grandmother did.”
“Then explain.”
“She built an empire and called it a trust.”
“Why?”
“To punish me.”
“No.”
I heard him breathe.
“To control me.”
Still no.
“She knew I would fail.”
“You did.”
Silence.
Then my father said something unexpected.
“I didn't expect Jesse to become weak.”
I froze.
“Excuse me?”
“He was supposed to hold the business together.”
“He was drowning.”
“Because he gambled.”
“You knew.”
“Of course I knew.”
“Then why keep giving him money?”
“He was useful.”
My stomach turned.
“You used your own son.”
“He had one job.”
“What job?”
“Keeping attention away from Westlake.”
I felt cold.
“From what?”
He didn't answer.
“Dad.”
Finally he said:
“The account contains more than money.”
My pulse climbed.
“What?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
A pause.
“Your grandmother built a record of every illegal transfer.”
I stared at the harbor.
“Why didn't you destroy it?”
“I tried.”
“Where is it?”
He laughed once.
Not warmly.
“That's what you don't understand.”
His voice dropped.
“I don't know.”
I frowned.
“Then what have you been looking for?”
“Access.”
“To what?”
“The original ledger.”
My mind raced.
“Where is it?”
“I thought Betsy had it.”
“She doesn't.”
“Then you do.”
I froze.
“How would I have it?”
“Because your grandmother always trusted you.”
I stared at the cabin around me.
The navigation table.
The books.
The charts.
The drawers.
Then my eyes landed on the teak panel beneath the helm.
I'd never opened it.
It looked like a storage compartment.
I pulled it.
Nothing happened.
Then I saw a hidden latch.
My fingers shook.
I opened it.
Inside was a waterproof metal case.
I turned back toward the phone.
“Dad.”
He was silent.
“What is in the case?”
His breathing changed.
“Hannah…”
Too late.
I opened it.
Inside was a ledger.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And one letter.
But not from my grandmother.
From my father.
Dated six years earlier.
One year before I left.
I unfolded it.
The first line said:
Betsy, if Hannah ever learns what I did, she will never forgive me.
I stopped breathing.
My father's voice came through the phone.
“Don't read the rest.”
I looked at the ledger.
Then at the letter.
And realized for the first time that my father had not been afraid of losing his money.
He had been afraid of losing me.
Because if I knew the truth, he knew exactly what I would do.
I turned the page.
May you like
And the final sentence stopped me cold.
I was the one who told them to get rid of Hannah.
