Chapter 6 - THE BOATHOUSE AT MIDNIGHT
Detective Ortiz told Anna not to respond. Charles told her the same thing less calmly. Eli, who was not supposed to know about the message, saw the fear on their faces and asked if Evelyn was coming back. Anna lied and said the police were handling everything. It was the first lie she had told him, and it tasted terrible.
The boathouse stood on a private stretch of the Hudson forty miles north of the estate. It had belonged to Henry Astor before his death and had not been used in years. According to property records, electricity had been disconnected. Security cameras on the access road had stopped transmitting two days earlier. “It’s a trap,” Charles said.
“Of course it’s a trap,” Ortiz replied. “That doesn’t mean we ignore a hostage.” The detective’s plan was precise. Anna would appear to agree to the exchange. Police tactical teams would approach through the woods and river. The flash drive she carried would be a copy containing a tracking transmitter. She would wear a concealed microphone.
Charles objected until Ortiz turned on him. “She is an adult. She is also the person they contacted. If you interfere, you may get Hale killed.” Charles looked at Anna. “You don’t have to do this.” Anna thought of Dr. Hale, a stranger who had believed Eli when no one else did. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”
At eleven forty-five that night, Anna drove alone toward the boathouse in a police-provided SUV. Snow had begun falling again, thick and slow, covering the road in white silence. The Hudson lay black beyond the trees. Her hands remained steady on the wheel. Inside, nothing was steady. She thought of her mother, who had spent decades never telling Anna that Henry Astor was her father. Had she been protecting her? Had she been ashamed? Afraid? There were questions Anna could no longer ask because her mother had died four years earlier.
She thought of Marianne, a sister she had never met, leaving behind a letter with Anna’s name in it. And she thought of Eli, sleeping under guard while adults fought over money he did not understand. The boathouse appeared through the snow. A single lantern burned near the door. Anna parked. Ortiz’s voice murmured through the tiny earpiece. “We have you. Walk slowly.”
Anna stepped into the cold. The door opened before she reached it. Franklin Voss stood inside. He looked older than he had four days earlier. His suit was gone. He wore a dark coat, boots, and a knitted cap. A pistol hung loosely in his right hand. “Phone,” he said. Anna held it up. “Drop it.”
She did. “Come in.” The interior smelled of river water, gasoline, and rotting wood. A small motorboat rocked beneath the floor opening. Dr. Hale sat tied to a chair near the back wall. She was alive. A bruise darkened one cheek. “Anna Mercer,” she said hoarsely. “You shouldn’t have come.” “I was invited.” Franklin searched Anna quickly, missing the microphone sewn into the inner seam of her coat.
“Drive.” She handed him the copied flash drive. He inspected it. “Where’s Evelyn?” Anna asked. Franklin’s jaw tightened. “Not here.” “Then who sent the message?” “I did.” “Why?” “Because unlike Evelyn, I understand when a plan is over.” Anna looked at Dr. Hale. “So let her go.” “I will. Once I know this is the only copy.”
“It isn’t.” Franklin stared at her. Anna continued. “The police already have it. Charles has it. There are backups. Killing anyone changes nothing.” For the first time, Franklin looked uncertain. Then a woman’s voice came from the loft above. “She’s right.” Evelyn appeared at the top of the stairs. She wore a white winter coat over black clothing. Her hair was tied back. In one hand she carried a second gun.
Franklin swore. “You weren’t supposed to come.” “You were going to run without me.” “You were going to sacrifice me.” Evelyn descended slowly. “You drove the car.” “You ordered it.” “You agreed.” Anna stood between them and saw the alliance collapse. Ortiz’s voice crackled faintly in her ear. “Keep them talking.” Evelyn heard something. Her eyes snapped toward Anna.
“What was that?” Anna did not answer. Evelyn crossed the room and ripped Anna’s earpiece free. The tiny wire gleamed beneath the lantern light. Franklin’s face changed. “Police.” He rushed toward the motorboat. Evelyn raised her gun. “Stop.” He ignored her. The shot exploded inside the wooden building. Franklin fell against the dock rail, clutching his shoulder.
Dr. Hale screamed. Outside, voices erupted. “Police! Drop the weapon!” Evelyn grabbed Anna and pulled her backward, pressing the gun beneath her chin. The boathouse doors burst open. Officers flooded the entrance. Evelyn dragged Anna toward the boat. “Back up!” she shouted. Ortiz appeared behind a ballistic shield. “Evelyn, it’s over.” “No.” “Franklin is alive. Dr. Hale is alive. Nobody else has to get hurt.”
Evelyn laughed, but tears stood in her eyes. “You think this is about hurt?” Her arm tightened around Anna. “This family destroys everyone who gets close enough. Henry destroyed Anna’s mother. He destroyed Marianne. Charles would have destroyed me eventually too.” Anna felt the gun tremble. “So you destroyed them first?” Evelyn’s breath caught. For a second, anger broke through her control.
“Marianne was going to expose everything. The trust transfers. My father’s debts. Franklin’s accounts. She was going to take Eli and vanish.” “You chased her.” “I wanted the files.” “You ran her off the road.” Evelyn’s face twisted. “I told Franklin to stop her.” From the floor, Franklin shouted, “You said hit the car!” Silence slammed through the boathouse.
Evelyn turned her head. That half-second was enough. Anna drove her elbow backward, striking Evelyn’s ribs. The gun fired into the ceiling. Ortiz’s team rushed forward. Anna fell hard to the dock. Evelyn was pinned to the floor seconds later. Franklin surrendered while bleeding from the shoulder. Dr. Hale was freed. Outside, snow covered the police vehicles in white.
May you like
Anna stood shaking beside the river while a paramedic checked the bruise forming beneath her jaw. Charles arrived twenty minutes later, furious that anyone had allowed her near the boathouse and too relieved to stay angry. He wrapped his coat around her shoulders. “Eli?” Anna asked. “Safe.” She closed her eyes. For the first time since the scratching began, she believed the word might be true.
But safety was not the same as healing. The next morning, prosecutors announced charges against Franklin related to Marianne’s death, Eli’s unlawful confinement, financial fraud, kidnapping, and weapons offenses. Evelyn faced overlapping charges, though her attorneys immediately argued that Franklin had acted beyond her instructions. The case would take months. Maybe years. Yet one fact no longer depended on a courtroom. Eli Astor had been found. And this time, the world knew he existed.
