Chapter 5 - Someone Is Watching SolsticeWe left the hotel through the rear entrance.
I didn't tell Tom.
Not yet.
I drove two blocks and parked.
Betsy sat beside me.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally she said, “You need to move the boat.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere secure.”
“The marina is secure.”
“Secure against thieves, maybe.”
I knew what she meant.
We returned after dark.
The harbor was quiet.
Most boats were still.
Solstice's cabin lights were off.
I walked down the dock alone.
Every step sounded too loud.
I checked the lines.
Nothing.
The cabin door was locked.
I opened it.
Everything looked normal.
Kitchen.
Charts.
Nav system.
Cabin.
Then I noticed the desk drawer.
It was open.
I was sure I had closed it.
Inside were documents I kept for the boat.
Insurance.
Registration.
Survey.
Nothing seemed missing.
Except one thing.
A small blue notebook.
I hadn't thought about it in years.
It had belonged to my grandmother.
She gave it to me when I was nineteen.
I used to write expenses in it.
Maintenance costs.
Fuel.
Repairs.
Then one day, I stopped using it.
I looked around the cabin.
It was nowhere.
My phone rang.
Betsy.
“I found something else.”
“What?”
“I checked Grandma's old storage records.”
“Go on.”
“She rented a safe-deposit box.”
I leaned against the wall.
“When?”
“Six months before she died.”
“Whose name?”
“Hers.”
“Who had access?”
Betsy inhaled.
“Your father.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course.”
“No,” she said. “That's the problem.”
“What?”
“The bank records show someone accessed it after Grandma died.”
“Who?”
“We're trying to find out.”
I looked at the empty space where my notebook should have been.
“Betsy.”
“Yes?”
“My grandmother's notebook is gone.”
Silence.
“From Solstice?”
“Yes.”
“Then someone has been inside the boat.”
I heard a sound outside.
Metal against wood.
I froze.
“Someone's on the dock.”
Betsy whispered, “Lock yourself in.”
I ended the call.
I killed the cabin lights.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Two people.
I moved toward the aft cabin and crouched behind the partition.
A shadow crossed the small window.
Then another.
A voice outside.
Male.
Low.
“She's here.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Another voice answered.
“Check the forward cabin.”
I reached for the emergency radio.
My hand shook.
Then I stopped.
If I called the harbor patrol, they would know I was inside.
The footsteps came aboard.
The boat creaked.
A drawer opened.
Then another.
Someone whispered, “Nothing.”
The second man said, “Find the blue one.”
My blood went cold.
They knew about the notebook.
One of them entered the cabin.
I could hear him breathing.
The floorboard creaked closer.
I pressed myself against the wall.
He opened a cabinet.
Then another.
He moved toward the aft section.
I looked at the small hatch above me.
A terrible idea.
My only idea.
I waited.
Another creak.
Closer.
Then I heard a voice from the dock.
“HEY!”
The cabin intruder stopped.
“Harbor security!”
Footsteps rushed.
A door slammed.
The boat rocked violently.
I waited five seconds.
Ten.
Then I moved.
I climbed through the hatch and dropped onto the dock just as two figures disappeared between parked vehicles.
One wore a dark cap.
The other turned.
For a fraction of a second, our eyes met.
I couldn't see his whole face.
But I saw a scar beneath his left eye.
He ran.
Tom came sprinting from the security booth.
“Hannah!”
“They were inside.”
“Call the police?”
“Yes.”
Then I noticed something on the deck.
A folded piece of paper.
I picked it up.
Three words.
ASK YOUR FATHER.
I showed Tom.
He stared.
Then looked at me.
“Who are you involved with?”
I shook my head.
“I don't know.”
But I did know one thing.
My father was no longer simply asking me for sixty thousand dollars.
May you like
Someone else wanted whatever my grandmother had left me.
And they were willing to come onto my boat to get it.
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