Chapter 5 - THE THING UNDER THE HATCH
Adrian went outside just after dusk.
He locked the front door from the outside, maybe assuming the chain on the back was enough and Grace was too hurt to try anything else.
He took his truck keys.
His phone.
Claire’s phone.
Grace’s bag.
But he left the cabin keys on Grace now.
Because he didn’t know she had them.
The moment his truck engine faded down the road, Claire dropped the performance.
She sank to her knees beside her mother so fast Grace almost cried.
“Mom.”
The word broke both of them.
Grace touched her daughter’s face with shaking fingers.
“You’re alive.”
Claire started crying.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Grace pulled her in carefully, pain tearing through her side.
“We don’t have time.”
Claire nodded hard and wiped her face.
“The hatch.”
They moved together.
Claire lifted the rug.
The hatch was narrow and iron-framed, almost flush with the plank floor.
One of the keys fit.
Inside was not a basement.
Just a shallow hidden compartment.
But what it held changed everything.
A black laptop.
Two external drives.
A file envelope.
A handgun.
And Caleb’s silver bracelet.
Grace stopped breathing.
Claire picked up the bracelet.
“He told me you kept this after the fire,” she whispered.
“I did.”
“Then why would it be here?”
Because Adrian had it.
Which meant Adrian had been in possession of Caleb’s things long before the police released personal effects.
Which meant he had access to the scene—or took items afterward.
Claire handed Grace the envelope.
Inside were printouts.
Wire transfers from Morgan Coastal Supply to shell companies.
Maintenance invoices.
Insurance adjustments.
And a final document:
Emergency Board Resolution—Interim Executive Control.
Prepared but unsigned.
The beneficiary of interim control if Grace were discredited or removed:
Adrian Vale.
Grace closed her eyes.
There it was.
Not just fraud.
Succession.
Control.
He didn’t merely want money.
He wanted the company.
Claire opened the laptop.
It required a password.
Grace typed Caleb’s birthday first.
Wrong.
Then Robert’s.
Wrong.
Then, with sudden certainty, she typed the name of the family boat—Sparrow.
The screen opened.
Claire gasped.
Folders.
Dozens of them.
Vendor fraud.
Insurance projections.
Board correspondence.
Personal recordings.
One folder was labeled:
For Claire.
She opened it.
A video file appeared.
Caleb’s face filled the screen.
Alive.
Tired.
Scared.
“Claire, if you’re seeing this, it means I was right about Adrian.”
Claire made a choking sound and covered her mouth.
“He killed Caleb,” she whispered.
Grace shook her head.
“Maybe. Or maybe Caleb knew he would try something if he found out.”
“We need to go to the police.”
“Yes.”
“But the phones—”
Grace looked toward the window.
“He’ll come back.”
May you like
Claire nodded, terror flooding her features.
“We have to be gone before then.”
