Chapter 6 - THE STORM AT THE BOATHOUSE
Noah realized the key was missing shortly after eight. He had taken a shower, changed into
pajamas, and reached for the cord beneath his shirt only to find it empty. The clasp had
not broken. Someone had untied it. Natalie searched his room, then the hallway, then the
library where he had been drawing with Clara’s younger sister. Nothing. Dominic ordered
the estate sealed immediately, but Brooke was no longer in the guest suite assigned to
her.
Security footage showed her leaving through the laundry corridor at 7:46 p.m. wearing a
dark raincoat and carrying a canvas tote. The eastern garden camera lost power four
minutes later. Marcus swore under his breath. The storm had damaged several exterior
circuits, creating gaps no system could fill. Dominic felt the old fear of uncertainty
close around his throat. He knew Brooke had taken the key. What he did not know was why
she still needed it after the hidden compartment had already been opened.
Natalie did. Catherine’s cedar box had contained a note referencing “duplicate records
below the tide line.” At the time, they assumed it meant bank archives. Now Natalie
remembered the old boathouse built into the cliff below the cottage. Catherine used to
store sailing ledgers there in a locked cabinet. The brass key might have operated more
than one mechanism. Marcus split the security team. Dominic and Natalie headed toward the
cliff path.
Rain lashed sideways from the ocean, driven by winds strong enough to bend the cedars.
Flashlights cut narrow tunnels through darkness. The stone steps leading down to the
boathouse were slick with algae and seawater. Halfway down, Dominic found Noah’s red rain
boot lying on its side. Every part of him went cold. Natalie made a sound that was almost
a scream. Noah had been upstairs ten minutes earlier.
Marcus’s radio crackled. A housekeeper had seen Noah leave through the mudroom after
receiving a handwritten note that said his mother needed him at the cottage. The note was
unsigned. Someone had used him as bait or as a guide. Dominic started running, no longer
caring about the danger of the steps. Natalie followed, gripping the rail.
Inside the boathouse, an emergency lamp cast yellow light over old ropes, oars, and a
small vintage sailboat. Brooke stood beside a metal cabinet set into the stone wall. Noah
was several feet away, soaked but unharmed, his back pressed against a workbench. Brooke
held the brass key in one hand. She did not have a weapon. Somehow that made the scene
worse, because her desperation was naked.
“I only needed him to show me which lock,” she said when Dominic entered. Natalie rushed
to Noah and pulled him into her arms. Dominic positioned himself between them and Brooke.
“You brought a child into a storm to open a cabinet.” Brooke insisted she never intended
to hurt Noah. She said the note was the only way to get him away from the security detail.
That explanation did not help her.
The key had already opened the cabinet. Inside were waterproof document tubes and an old
external hard drive sealed in plastic. Brooke had removed one tube, but not opened it.
Dominic told her to put it down. She laughed shakily. “Do you know what is in here? Your
mother kept everything. Every deal. Every letter. Every payment my father ever made to
politicians, consultants, inspectors. She could have destroyed us years ago.”
Natalie stared at her. “Then why didn’t she?” Brooke’s expression twisted. “Because she
wanted leverage. People like your mother always pretend it is morality when they are just
better at power.” Dominic disagreed. Catherine’s letter had said she preserved records
because destroying them could leave Natalie vulnerable if pressure returned. There was no
evidence she had blackmailed anyone. Brooke had interpreted restraint as strategy because
strategy was the language she understood.
A violent gust struck the boathouse doors. One flew open, slamming against the stone wall.
Seawater surged across the lower floor. Brooke startled and dropped the document tube. It
rolled toward the open doorway. She lunged for it. Her shoe slipped on the wet planks, and
suddenly she was falling toward the edge where the storm tide churned below.
Dominic caught her wrist before the storm could take her. The impact nearly pulled him
forward as well, and for one breathless instant both of them stared down at the black
water smashing against the pilings.
For a second, Brooke hung over black water, staring up at the man she had betrayed.
Dominic could have released her and blamed the storm. The thought never became action. He
braced one foot against the beam and hauled her back with Marcus’s help as the security
team arrived. Brooke collapsed on the floor, coughing, stunned by the fact that he had
saved her.
Dominic retrieved the tube and handed it to Lydia, who had followed with an investigator.
Brooke sat wrapped in a blanket while Marcus secured her hands in front of her with
restraint cuffs after she tried to bolt for the door. She began crying again, but this
time there was no performance in it. “My father said if I failed, everything would
collapse,” she whispered. “The company, the family, all of it.”
Dominic looked at Noah, trembling in Natalie’s arms. “So you decided my family should
collapse instead.” Brooke had no answer.
The waterproof tube contained copies of wire transfers from Harrington-controlled
companies to a consultancy linked to Stephen Kells. The dates stretched across more than a
decade. The hard drive might contain more, but Lydia refused to speculate until forensic
specialists examined it. One thing was clear: Brooke had known the records existed and had
risked a child’s safety to retrieve them.
As they climbed back toward the mansion, the storm began to weaken. Dawn was still hours
away, but a pale break appeared near the horizon. Natalie carried Noah until he insisted
he could walk. Dominic stayed close behind them. At the top of the path, Noah turned to
his uncle and asked if Saturday was still going to be a wedding.
May you like
Dominic looked at the white tents shaking on the lawn. “No,” he said. “Saturday is going
to be the day this family stops pretending.”
