Chapter 6 - THE PRICE OF A LITTLE GIRL
“Nobody is taking Lily off this yacht.”
Dante's words were quiet, but every man on the bridge heard them.
Captain Hale watched the approaching boats through the navigation display.
The nearest vessel was close enough for its searchlight to illuminate a large white flag stretched across its stern.
Two names had been painted across it.
ARCHIVE DRIVE.
LILY MORETTI.
It wasn't an official maritime signal.
It was a threat.
“Turn us toward the coast,” Dante ordered.
“We're already changing course,” Raymond said. “But the closest boat is moving to block our starboard side.”
“Can they board?”
“Not if we maintain speed.”
Dante looked at the clock.
It was almost midnight.
Lily had spent hours believing that the people responsible for hurting her might come back.
And now they had.
“Contact the Coast Guard again. Tell them we have a child aboard who survived an attempted murder.”
The captain nodded.
“And preserve everything we've found.”
Raymond glanced toward the archive drive.
“Already making copies.”
Dante took a breath.
“Good.”
Then he turned toward the security officer.
“Move Lily to the interior medical cabin. Keep Emma and Dr. Chen with her. No one enters without my permission.”
When Emma heard about the approaching vessels, she immediately understood why Dante wanted Lily moved.
The medical suite had large windows overlooking the ocean.
The smaller treatment cabin behind it had no exterior windows and a heavy locking door.
Emma helped Lily out of bed.
“Where are we going?” the little girl asked.
“Just somewhere quieter.”
“Are there bad people outside?”
Emma hesitated.
Lying would only make Lily more frightened when she discovered the truth.
“Some people are trying to come aboard. Your uncle is making sure they can't.”
Lily reached for her hand.
“Is Vanessa with them?”
“No, sweetheart.”
“Is Grandpa?”
Emma knelt.
“Grandpa is still on the yacht.”
Lily looked down at her mother's bracelet.
“Mommy used to tell me Grandpa could fix anything.”
Emma felt a painful tightening in her throat.
“Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes they can't fix right away.”
“Big mistakes?”
“Yes.”
Lily thought about that.
Then she whispered, “I don't want him to be bad.”
Emma gently brushed the hair from her face.
“You don't have to decide how you feel about Grandpa tonight.”
Lily nodded.
As they entered the smaller cabin, Dr. Chen checked the girl's temperature again.
Emma settled beside her.
The yacht suddenly tilted as the captain made a sharper turn.
Lily grabbed Emma's arm.
“Are we going to fall?”
“No.”
Emma wrapped both arms around her.
“I'm holding you.”
The little girl buried her face against Emma's shoulder.
“Don't jump away this time.”
Emma blinked back tears.
“I won't leave you.”
In the captain's office, Colin Reed finally admitted why he had taken the security drive.
“Marshall told me the recording couldn't reach the police,” he said.
Dante stood across from him.
“Why?”
“Because it showed something he couldn't explain.”
“What?”
Colin shook his head.
“I never watched the whole recording.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because eighteen months ago, he offered me two hundred thousand dollars to make sure it disappeared.”
Dante stared at him.
“Did you take the money?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Most of it's gone. My wife was sick. We had medical bills. I borrowed from the wrong people before Whitmore approached me.”
Dante looked away.
Another sick family member.
Another desperate employee.
Another powerful man who had turned someone's suffering into a weapon.
“You had choices, Colin.”
“I know.”
“My sister didn't.”
Colin began crying.
Dante continued.
“Why bring the drive to Vanessa instead of Marshall?”
“Vanessa intercepted me outside the archive room. She said if I gave the recording to her, she'd help me get away from her father.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I wanted to.”
Dante looked toward the stolen drive.
Vanessa had wanted evidence against Vittorio.
Marshall wanted that evidence destroyed.
For the first time, Dante considered that father and daughter might no longer be working toward the same goal.
“Did Marshall order you to remove the recording tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Did he order you to bring Lily?”
Colin looked startled.
“No.”
“Think carefully.”
“He said to make certain the child couldn't tell anyone what she'd remembered.”
Dante's hands curled into fists.
“Those were his words?”
Colin nodded.
“He said she was becoming a problem.”
Dante turned toward the door.
He knew exactly what kind of man described a nine-year-old girl that way.
Vanessa was sitting alone when Dante returned.
She looked exhausted.
“Your father's boats are outside,” he said.
Her head snapped up.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa stood so quickly that her chair fell backward.
“Dante, you have to keep him away from Lily.”
Dante watched her carefully.
“Why?”
“Because he thinks she remembers what happened.”
“She does remember some of it.”
Vanessa pressed a hand against her mouth.
“You don't understand. My father doesn't believe children forget anything. He believes they stay quiet until somebody teaches them what to say.”
“And what does he do when they speak?”
Vanessa looked toward the floor.
Dante waited.
“When I was twelve,” she finally said, “I told my mother about something my father had done to one of his employees.”
“What happened?”
“He sent the employee away. Then he made me apologize for lying.”
“Were you lying?”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“After that, I learned to stay quiet.”
Dante looked at her.
He believed she had been frightened of her father.
He also knew she had spent years helping him frighten other people.
“Tell me who pushed Isabella.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“I didn't see the actual fall.”
“Then tell me what you did see.”
She shook her head.
Dante stepped closer.
“Vanessa, a child could've died tonight. You don't get to protect yourself by hiding behind another lie.”
She pressed her lips together.
“My father promised me Isabella would be safe.”
“And you believed him?”
“I needed to.”
Dante heard the same excuse his own father had used.
He had wanted to believe Vanessa.
Vittorio had wanted to believe the accident.
Colin had wanted to believe the money would save his family.
Everybody had wanted something badly enough to stop asking questions.
And Isabella had paid for it.
Dante looked at Vanessa.
“I'm going to the police with everything I know. You should tell them the truth before your father tells them whatever protects him.”
He turned toward the door.
Vanessa called after him.
“Dante.”
He stopped.
“My father knew about the first fall before it happened.”
Dante slowly turned.
“What?”
“He knew Isabella and Vittorio were arguing. He knew your father would try to take the envelope.”
“How?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Because he arranged the meeting.”
Dante went straight to his father's cabin.
Vittorio was standing beside the window.
The old man's face looked drawn.
“Did Marshall arrange your argument with Isabella?”
Vittorio closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Dante felt his patience disappear.
“You told me you were trying to protect this family.”
“I was.”
“From what? The truth?”
“Marshall said Isabella had copies of records that could implicate you.”
Dante stared at him.
“I never authorized those transfers.”
“I know that now.”
“You could've asked me.”
Vittorio's shoulders sagged.
“I was afraid you'd take action before I could protect the business.”
Dante stepped closer.
“You're still talking about the business.”
His father looked down.
For the first time, he seemed to understand what his son was saying.
“Isabella asked me to stop the transfers,” Vittorio whispered. “I kept telling her to wait.”
“And when she died?”
“I told myself I would replace every dollar.”
“Did you?”
“Some of it.”
Dante looked at him with disgust.
“You let her foundation keep operating with stolen money still missing?”
Vittorio began to cry.
Dante didn't comfort him.
“I want every account opened. Every transfer documented. The entire board notified.”
His father nodded.
“No more hiding?”
“No.”
Vittorio turned toward his desk.
He opened a drawer and removed a slim folder.
Inside was a handwritten order dated eighteen months earlier.
Dante read it.
Suspend automatic aft-deck emergency notifications during private security meeting.
At the bottom was Vittorio's signature.
Dante slowly looked up.
“You disabled the man-overboard alarm?”
Vittorio nodded.
“Only temporarily. Marshall said we needed privacy.”
“And you left it disabled?”
“I forgot to restore it.”
Dante stared at the paper.
His sister had fallen into the ocean twice.
And the emergency system that might have brought help immediately had been deliberately silenced.
“Do you understand what you did?”
Vittorio's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Dante placed the folder on the desk.
“Then you're going to explain it to the police yourself.”
A sudden vibration shook the yacht.
Not from the waves.
From something striking the stern.
Dante grabbed the radio.
“Raymond!”
The captain answered immediately.
“One of the approaching vessels made contact with our outer platform. Minor damage. We're maintaining course.”
“Any injuries?”
“None reported.”
Then a second voice came through.
The security officer.
“Sir, we've found an emergency storage trunk in the aft service room. It belonged to Isabella.”
Dante went still.
“What was inside?”
“Her yellow raincoat. Some personal items. It was sealed after the original investigation.”
Dante looked at his father.
Then he spoke into the radio.
“Bring the coat to the captain's office.”
Several minutes later, Emma arrived carrying the old yellow raincoat.
She had been asked to inspect it because of the stitching she'd recognized earlier.
The fabric was faded.
The sleeves were stiff from age.
But Emma noticed something unusual near the inside seam.
A small patch had been sewn beneath the lining.
“This wasn't part of the original coat,” she said.
Dante leaned closer.
Emma carefully opened a few stitches.
A folded piece of waterproof paper slipped into her hand.
She unfolded it.
Three lines were written in Isabella's handwriting.
If Marshall asks for the envelope, don't give it to him.
The original records are not in the envelope.
I left them somewhere only Lily will know.
Dante stared at the final sentence.
Then he looked toward the medical cabin.
May you like
His sister had left the evidence with a seven-year-old child.
And for eighteen months, nobody had known.
