Chapter 8 - Nassau at Dawn.
The skyline of Nassau appeared beneath a pale gold sunrise.
Before normal disembarkation, the ship's public areas filled with a strange mix of vacation energy and invisible security activity.
Families lined up for snorkeling excursions.
Couples posed for photographs beside the gangway sign.
Crew members smiled and directed traffic.
Behind them, officers quietly checked identities and reviewed restricted-access lists.
I watched from an upper-level window.
The contrast felt surreal.
A child pressed both hands against the glass one deck below, excited by the water.
A man carried three beach bags and complained about sunscreen.
Someone laughed loudly near the coffee bar.
Life continued without asking permission from crisis.
That steadied me.
Ramos joined me with two paper cups.
"Coffee."
"You are officially my favorite authority figure."
"Low bar today."
I took the cup.
"Do passengers know anything?"
"Some saw the online rumor. Most don't know details."
"Good."
"You say that now."
"What does that mean?"
"If reporters identify the ship, privacy gets harder."
I looked at the terminal building outside.
"Walter wants that."
"Probably."
"Why?"
"Because public attention creates pressure, and pressure makes people rush."
Ramos looked at me.
"Don't rush."
I almost smiled.
"You and my old instructors would get along."
"I doubt that."
"You both enjoy telling me what not to do."
"That may be because you keep giving people opportunities."
The announcement for Nassau excursions began over the speakers.
I felt a strange ache hearing it.
Gregory and I had planned to spend that morning walking through the old city, eating conch fritters, and pretending seven days away could make the rest of life disappear.
I had looked forward to it.
That version of the day no longer existed.
Grief does not only belong to people.
Sometimes it belongs to plans.
Ramos seemed to understand without asking.
"You can be disappointed and still know you're safer here."
"I know."
"Both can be true."
I nodded.
Then Inspector Cole entered the operations room, and the day became practical again.
Under any other circumstances, it would have been beautiful.
White buildings.
Blue water.
Palm trees catching the first light.
Passengers gathered at windows with cameras and coffee.
Music played softly in public areas.
Crew members prepared excursion signs.
The ship was waking up to vacation.
I was standing inside the security operations room looking at a photograph of Walter Hartman.
He had been spotted outside a private marina forty minutes earlier.
He was not alone.
A black SUV had dropped him beside a white building near the waterfront.
The same address listed in Gregory's Nassau folder.
The document-signing office.
Authorities in Nassau had been notified.
Cruise security had transferred evidence summaries.
A liaison officer was coming onboard before normal passenger disembarkation.
Gregory remained restricted to his cabin.
Marcus Reeves was under ship security control pending transfer.
Claire Duvall remained in medical.
And Miriam was still missing.
I had received no more messages from her.
The single period on my phone had become the only proof I had that she had been alive several hours earlier.
Ava joined by video call from Atlanta.
She looked exhausted.
"The board meeting is in twenty minutes."
"How bad is the internal situation?"
"Manageable. I froze all governance changes tied to your credentials. Outside counsel filed notices with our banks and major vendors."
"Good."
"There's a rumor already."
I knew there would be.
"What rumor?"
"That you had a breakdown on your honeymoon."
I closed my eyes briefly.
Walter had started the public version.
"Where did it come from?"
"A financial blogger received an anonymous tip."
"Any story published?"
"Not yet. They contacted our communications director for comment."
"What did we say?"
"That you are safe, company operations are normal, and we do not comment on private matters."
"Perfect."
Ava leaned closer to the screen.
"Ash, I can also release a statement that you were the victim of an onboard incident."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because we don't need to win the internet before breakfast."
She almost smiled.
"That sounded annoyingly reasonable."
"I've had a long night."
"Apparently."
I looked toward Ramos.
"Any response from Miriam's attorney?"
Ramos shook her head.
We had called the lawyer named in Miriam's voicemail indirectly through Florida authorities.
No answer yet.
Then the operations-room door opened.
A crew member escorted in a tall Bahamian officer in a dark uniform.
He introduced himself as Inspector Adrian Cole.
He shook hands with the captain and Ramos.
Then he turned to me.
"Mrs. Hartman."
"Ashlynn Mercer is fine."
He nodded.
"Ms. Mercer. I've reviewed the preliminary report."
"And?"
"Your father-in-law is currently at the location tied to the scheduled document appointment."
"Can you detain him?"
"Not simply for being there."
"He threatened me on a recorded call."
"We are reviewing it."
I did not like the answer.
I respected it anyway.
Cole continued.
"We can prevent any forced meeting and investigate the local professionals involved. We can also coordinate with U.S. authorities regarding potential fraud and conspiracy matters."
"What about Miriam Hartman?"
"We are checking hotels, private terminals, and known associates."
"Walter told someone she became a problem."
"I saw that statement."
"Then you understand why I'm asking."
His expression softened slightly.
"I do."
The captain pointed toward a conference table.
"Inspector, there is one more development."
Ramos placed a transcript of Claire's statement in front of him.
Cole read it quickly.
When he reached the line about Walter already being in Nassau, he looked up.
"We have officers watching the building."
"Does Walter know?" I asked.
"Not that we're aware."
"Good."
Cole looked at me carefully.
"You are not going there."
"I know."
"You said that very quickly."
"Because everyone keeps telling me."
"There is a reason."
"I know."
He nodded once.
"Then we understand each other."
For the next hour, everything moved at once.
Gregory's attorney contacted the cruise line and demanded immediate release from restrictions.
The cruise line refused until law enforcement completed the transfer interview.
Marcus Reeves requested counsel and said nothing.
Claire agreed to provide a full written statement.
The two tablets found near the camera were identified as a prescription anti-anxiety medication not issued to either Gregory or me.
The liquid from Gregory's toiletry kit tested as a concentrated sleep aid.
None of it proved what he intended to do with it.
Combined with the Nassau schedule, it told a frightening story.
Then Ava called again.
Her face on the screen looked different.
"We found something in the board archive."
"What?"
"A due-diligence request from Hartman Maritime."
"We never received one."
"Exactly. It was saved in a hidden draft folder under your account six months ago."
"What was requested?"
"Contract details. Cash positions. Insurance coverage. Key-person policies."
I frowned.
"Key-person insurance?"
"Yes."
That was the first detail that made Ramos look directly at me.
My company carried a substantial policy on me because my departure or incapacity could affect several major contracts.
The beneficiary was the company.
But a change in corporate control could potentially change how the proceeds were used.
"How much?" Ramos asked.
Ava answered.
"Twenty million."
The room became quiet.
I felt my pulse in my throat.
"Walter knew about it."
"It looks like he was trying to confirm it."
Inspector Cole leaned toward the screen.
"Ms. Chen, please preserve that record and send it through counsel."
"Already doing so."
I stood and walked toward the window.
Nassau shimmered in the morning sun.
Tour boats moved through the harbor.
Passengers lined up for excursions below.
Everything looked normal.
My life did not.
"Ashlynn," Ava said.
I turned.
"There's one more attachment."
Of course there was.
"Open it."
"I did. It's a scanned insurance-change form."
"Signed?"
"With your name."
"I didn't sign it."
"I know."
"What does it change?"
Ava hesitated.
"It names a new authorized corporate representative for claims administration."
"Who?"
"Gregory."
My stomach turned.
Inspector Cole looked toward Ramos.
"We need copies now."
The room phone rang.
A crew member answered, then handed it to Cole.
He listened for less than a minute.
"Understood. Do not approach until I arrive."
He hung up.
"They found a car registered to a Hartman company outside the document office."
"Walter's?"
"Likely."
"Anything else?"
Cole's expression changed.
"Yes."
He looked at me.
"A woman's purse was visible through the rear window."
My chest tightened.
"Whose?"
"We don't know."
"Description?"
He checked his notes.
"Cream leather. Gold clasp. Initials M.H. embossed near the handle."
I knew that purse.
Miriam had carried it at the wedding.
I moved toward the door.
Ramos stepped in front of me.
"No."
"She's there."
"Maybe."
"That's her purse."
"And that may be exactly why it was left where officers could see it."
I stopped.
She was right.
Again.
I hated that she was right.
Inspector Cole picked up his radio.
"We're going now."
Before he left, he looked at me.
"Stay aboard."
"Bring her back."
He nodded once.
Then he left.
Twenty-eight minutes later, Cole called from the Nassau address.
Ramos put him on speaker.
"The office is empty," he said.
My stomach dropped.
"Walter?"
"Gone."
"Miriam?"
"Not here."
"The car?"
"Still outside."
"Her purse?"
"Inside the vehicle."
I gripped the table.
"Anything else?"
Cole paused.
"Yes. We found documents on the conference table."
"The proxy?"
"Copies of the proxy, power of attorney, and medical declaration."
"Signed?"
"One signature appears on the witness page."
My heart stopped.
"Whose?"
Cole answered quietly.
"Miriam Hartman's."
For one terrible second, I thought Miriam had betrayed me.
Then Cole continued.
"But next to her signature, she wrote something by hand."
May you like
"What?"
"She wrote, 'Signed under coercion. Call the police.'"
