Chapter 2 - WHAT WAS UNDER THE WATER“What if I was wrong?”
Lily’s voice was barely louder than the water tapping against the dock.
Grace crouched in front of her.
“You told the truth.”
“But they didn’t find anything.”
“That doesn’t mean you made it up.”
Owen Carver exhaled loudly.
He had been patient for twenty-two minutes, and apparently that was his limit.
“Dominic, the boat’s clean.”
Dominic did not answer.
His attention remained on Lily.
The little girl looked humiliated now.
Not scared.
That bothered him more.
Fear could be addressed.
Shame had a way of staying.
“What exactly did you mean when you said the man was under the boat?” Dominic asked.
Lily blinked.
“I showed you.”
“You said down low.”
“Yes.”
“Was he standing?”
“No.”
“Crouching?”
She frowned.
Then shook her head.
“He was floating.”
Everyone stopped.
Grant Keller turned slowly.
“Floating?”
Lily nodded.
“He had black clothes. And something on his back.”
Dominic’s gaze moved toward the water.
Grant’s face changed.
“Diver.”
Owen looked irritated.
“Why didn’t she say that twenty minutes ago?”
Dominic looked at him.
“Because she’s five.”
Owen closed his mouth.
Grant immediately keyed his radio.
“Get Harbor Patrol divers here. Nobody touches the yacht. Nobody starts an engine.”
The captain frowned.
“We already checked the bilge and engine room.”
Grant replied, “She didn’t say the device was inside.”
That was when the atmosphere changed.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
Dominic turned toward Grace.
“Take Lily back to the house.”
Grace nodded.
“Come on, baby.”
Lily resisted.
“No.”
Grace stared.
“Lily.”
“I want to stay.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“I know.”
Dominic crouched again.
“Why do you want to stay?”
Lily looked toward the yacht.
“My crayon.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“Your crayon is replaceable.”
“It’s my blue one.”
Dominic almost smiled.
Then Lily added, “It fell near where the man was.”
The smile vanished.
“What happened to it?”
“He picked it up.”
Grant stepped closer.
“Did he keep it?”
“No.”
“He put it somewhere?”
Lily nodded.
“On the boat.”
“Where?”
She pointed.
The yacht’s stern platform sat low against the water.
A hydraulic swim step folded beneath the transom.
“He put it up there.”
Grant looked at Dominic.
“That area wasn’t checked externally.”
Dominic stood.
“Get everyone off this dock.”
Owen groaned.
“Again?”
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“Now.”
That tone ended discussion.
Guests moved.
Crew withdrew.
Grace carried Lily toward the estate despite the child craning her neck backward.
Dominic remained with Grant at the edge of the marina until Harbor Patrol arrived.
Two divers entered the water.
Minutes passed.
Five.
Seven.
Nine.
Then one diver surfaced quickly.
He removed his regulator.
“Everybody back.”
Dominic did not move.
“What did you find?”
“A device mounted beneath the swim platform.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“Explosive?”
“Possibly.”
The diver climbed onto the adjacent dock.
“Black housing, wires, magnetic attachment. We need bomb squad.”
Owen went pale.
For the first time that evening, he said nothing.
Dominic looked toward the house.
Through the tall glass doors overlooking the marina, he could see Lily standing beside Grace.
Tiny hand pressed against the window.
The little girl had been right.
Three seconds.
That was how close they had come.
Three seconds before Dominic stepped onto the yacht.
Thirty seconds later, his mother.
Owen.
Half a dozen guests.
Crew.
Security.
Dominic felt nothing at first.
That was how his mind handled danger.
Emotion came later.
First came questions.
Who knew the departure time?
Who knew which yacht?
Who had access to the marina?
Who expected everyone aboard at once?
Grant approached.
“Bomb squad is twenty minutes.”
“Lock down the property.”
“Already done.”
“No one leaves.”
Grant hesitated.
“That includes family.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Especially family.”
Owen heard.
His face tightened.
“You think one of us did this?”
“I think someone knew enough to put a device beneath my yacht without triggering security.”
“That could be staff.”
“Yes.”
“Contractors.”
“Yes.”
“Enemies.”
“Yes.”
Dominic looked at his brother.
“And family.”
Owen stared.
“That’s insane.”
“Maybe.”
Dominic did not accuse without proof.
But tonight, proof had almost been blown into Boston Harbor.
The bomb squad arrived.
The device was removed just after nine.
Not a theatrical bundle of red wires.
Nothing resembling television.
It was compact.
Professional.
Designed to remain concealed beneath the waterline.
A police explosive technician spoke privately with Dominic and Grant.
“This wasn’t improvised by somebody who watched a video online.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning whoever assembled it understood marine systems.”
“Trigger?”
“Working on it.”
“Could it have destroyed the yacht?”
The technician looked toward the vessel.
“If it detonated near the stern fuel system after departure?”
He nodded.
“It could have caused catastrophic damage.”
Dominic looked at Grant.
The phrase Lily overheard returned.
As soon as the boat leaves, it blows.
The technician continued.
“Something else.”
He held out an evidence bag.
Inside was a blue crayon.
Lily’s.
Dominic stared.
“It was wedged between the device housing and bracket.”
Grant’s expression changed.
“The diver touched it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Could have been accidental.”
Dominic did not believe in that kind of accident.
Someone planting an explosive had picked up a child’s crayon.
Then left it touching the device.
Maybe he was careless.
Maybe interrupted.
Or maybe—
“He knew she saw him,” Dominic said.
Grant looked at him.
“What?”
“The man picked up her crayon.”
“Yes.”
“He knew a child was close enough to lose it.”
Grant understood.
“And still finished planting the device.”
Dominic’s face became cold.
“That means Lily may be a witness.”
Back inside the estate, Grace sat with Lily in the staff kitchen.
The child was eating buttered pasta.
Dominic entered.
Grace immediately stood.
“Mr. Carver?”
“They found something.”
Her face drained.
Lily stopped chewing.
“The black box?”
Dominic nodded.
Grace covered her mouth.
For several seconds she said nothing.
Then she pulled Lily against her.
“Oh, God.”
Lily looked at Dominic over her mother’s shoulder.
“So I wasn’t wrong?”
“No.”
The child visibly relaxed.
It was such an innocent response that it hurt.
Being right meant she had not disappointed anyone.
She did not yet understand that being right also meant someone had tried to kill people.
Dominic sat across from her.
“Lily, I need you to remember one more thing.”
Grace stiffened.
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes.”
He softened immediately.
“But she can stop whenever she wants.”
Grace nodded reluctantly.
Dominic looked at Lily.
“The man who picked up your crayon. Did he see you?”
Lily thought.
“I hid.”
“Where?”
“Behind the stairs.”
“Did he look toward you?”
She nodded.
Dominic’s stomach tightened.
“Did he say anything?”
“No.”
“Did he come toward you?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
Lily squeezed her fork.
“He smiled.”
Grace froze.
Dominic leaned forward.
“He smiled at you?”
Lily nodded.
“What kind of smile?”
She struggled to explain.
“Not happy.”
“Did you know him?”
“No.”
“Have you seen him before?”
Lily shook her head.
Then stopped.
Maybe.
Dominic noticed.
“You’re thinking.”
Lily looked toward Grace.
Her mother’s face changed before the child spoke.
Dominic caught it.
“Grace?”
She stood too quickly.
“I should get her home.”
“No.”
The word came quietly.
Grace looked at him.
Dominic’s attention sharpened.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing.”
“You reacted.”
“I’m frightened.”
“Not when she said the man smiled.”
Grace looked down.
“Grace.”
Lily spoke first.
“Mommy knows him.”
The room went silent.
Grace closed her eyes.
Dominic stared.
“What?”
Lily continued.
“I showed Mommy the man before.”
“When?”
“At your house.”
Grace turned.
“Lily, stop.”
Dominic’s voice became cold.
“No. Let her speak.”
Grace looked at him.
For the first time since she started working at the Carver estate two years earlier, the housekeeper looked less like an employee and more like someone trapped.
Dominic remembered all the quiet things he had never questioned.
Grace rarely accepted staff transportation.
She never listed an emergency contact.
She refused photographs at holiday parties.
She used cash for almost everything.
He had thought privacy was personality.
Maybe it had been survival.
“Who is he?” Dominic asked.
Grace swallowed.
“I don’t know if it was the same man.”
“Who did Lily show you?”
Grace’s hands shook.
“My ex-husband.”
Dominic looked at Lily.
Then Grace.
“The father?”
“Yes.”
“Of Lily?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
She did not answer.
Dominic waited.
Grace whispered it.
“Elias Mercer.”
Grant, standing in the doorway, went completely still.
Dominic noticed immediately.
“You know that name.”
Grant did not answer fast enough.
Dominic stood.
“Grant.”
His security chief looked pale.
“Elias Mercer died eight years ago.”
Grace stared.
“No.”
Grant continued.
“At least that’s what we were told.”
Dominic’s voice hardened.
“Who is we?”
Grant looked directly at him.
“The Carver family.”
Silence.
Grace looked between them.
“Why would my husband have anything to do with your family?”
Dominic already knew he was not going to like the answer.
Grant said quietly:
“Because Elias Mercer used to work for Dominic’s father.”
Grace stopped breathing.
“What did he do?”
Grant hesitated.
Dominic said, “Say it.”
Grant looked at Lily.
Then lowered his voice.
“He planted explosives.”
The pasta fork slipped from Grace’s hand.
And Dominic suddenly understood why a man beneath his yacht had smiled when a five-year-old child saw him.
May you like
He had not been looking at a random witness.
He had been looking at his own daughter.
Related Stories
