Chapter 8 - The Demand at the Marina
Sergeant Hall saw the message before I could hide my reaction.
“You’re not going alone.”
“They’re watching.”
“They expect you to believe that.”
A second photo arrived.
Beth’s chair had been moved closer to the edge of a dark dock. Behind her, black water reflected a single industrial light.
The document remained pressed against her chest.
I zoomed in.
The transfer named Belmont Asset Strategies as the controlling beneficiary of Nancy’s trust if she were declared mentally incapacitated. It also granted temporary authority to manage the waterfront property and liquidate “nonessential assets.”
My home was listed among those assets.
Ryan had not only been trying to steal my mother’s estate. He had built a legal structure that would let Belmont take everything connected to our family once Nancy was declared incompetent and I was discredited through the military chemical purchase.
Beth’s signature appeared on the final page.
Whether she had signed willingly or under threat, I could not tell.
“What does the key card open?” Hall asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Ryan does.”
He was being held at the county detention center while prosecutors reviewed assault and poisoning charges. Hall arranged an emergency interview.
Ryan sat behind a metal table, wrists cuffed to a waist chain. The arrogance had returned, but his eyes were bloodshot.
I placed a photograph of Beth in front of him.
“Where is she?”
He looked at it for less than a second.
“Never seen that picture.”
“She’s my cousin.”
“I know who she is.”
“Then you lied.”
His mouth curved.
“Bad habit tonight, apparently.”
I took out the plastic key card but kept it beyond his reach.
“What does this open?”
For the first time, his attention sharpened completely.
“Where did you find that?”
“You already know.”
He leaned forward.
“Kelsey, you need to give it to me.”
“Beth’s captors want it.”
His face twitched.
“You contacted them?”
“They contacted me.”
He looked toward the observation window.
“Turn off the recorder.”
“No.”
“Then she dies.”
Sergeant Hall stepped closer.
“Who has her?”
Ryan’s gaze stayed on me.
“You think I’m in charge because I held the bat.”
“You drugged Nancy.”
“I followed instructions.”
The admission came so quietly I almost missed it.
“Whose instructions?”
He sat back.
“Belmont doesn’t buy property, Kelsey. It buys situations. Elderly owners. Complicated heirs. Military families with long absences. People whose credibility can be dismantled.”
My fingers closed around the edge of the table.
“Who runs it?”
“You’ve met her.”
The woman in my uniform.
Beth.
Colonel Harper.
My mind moved through possibilities faster than I could control.
Ryan nodded toward the key card.
“That opens a deposit box containing original trust documents and biometric authorization records. Without it, Belmont has copies. With it, they can make the transfers permanent.”
“Where is the box?”
“Private vault beneath the old Annapolis Maritime Bank.”
The building had closed years ago after flooding damaged its first floor.
“Why was the card under our kitchen?”
“Because I was supposed to deliver it tonight.”
“After killing Nancy?”
His eyes flicked away.
Sergeant Hall said, “Answer her.”
Ryan’s jaw hardened.
“I was supposed to make the death look like a fall during a violent episode. Kelsey would come home, find the chemicals bought under her account, and panic. Belmont would offer legal help.”
“You hit her with a bat.”
“She recognized the bottle.”
His voice cracked on the final word.
Not remorse.
Fear.
My phone vibrated.
A live video call from Beth’s number filled the screen. Beth sat on the dock, trembling, while a gloved hand held a knife beneath her chin.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Major Morgan, bring the card to the maritime bank in thirty minutes.”
The camera shifted.
Behind Beth stood the woman wearing my military uniform.
She slowly removed her cap.
May you like
Colonel Harper’s face appeared beneath it.
📖 Discover why my commanding officer was standing behind Beth—and whether the woman on-screen was truly Colonel Harper in CHAPTER 9. 👇
