Chapter 3

"16 hours until Rosalind makes landfall."

"Ms. Grant, are you sure you want me to weld the backup mechanical lock shut from the outside? The one between the second deck and the hold?"

Mark held a welding torch and pointed at the four-inch-thick steel watertight door at the top of the stairs.

"Once it's welded shut, the electronic magnetic lock will be the only way to open it. If you cut the power from the top deck, even the Coast Guard won't be able to get anyone out of the hold without heavy-duty breaching equipment."

"Weld it. And move every lifeboat, life ring, and piece of wooden furniture that floats from the second and third decks into the storage room on the third deck."

"But if the hold takes on water, the people inside won't even have anything to hold on to..."

"Mr. Dalton, I'll add another $20,000. Get it done in ten minutes, then take your speedboat and get out of Palm Beach immediately."

"Deal. Have a nice vacation, Ms. Grant."

Sparks flew in the narrow stairwell, and the acrid smell of scorched metal filled the air.

In my last life, I'd wanted the Noah to be as safe as possible, so I had it custom-built to ocean research vessel standards, with three separate, sealed levels.

Each level had its own power and ventilation circuits, and the master console was in the master suite on the third deck.

But back then, I'd let my guard down completely and given Paul the highest level of access by registering his fingerprint.

I'd also stocked the hold and second deck with enough vacuum-sealed steaks, purified water, medical kits, and imported red wine to feed ten people for a whole year.

They'd only been aboard for a few hours when Lily cut the inner lining of every life jacket I'd stored on the second deck to shreds with scissors.

As floodwater tore through the marina and the yacht pitched in the huge waves, Lily pointed at the ruined life jacket and threw herself into Paul's arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Paul, I caught Susie cutting up my life jacket! She's jealous because you love me more! She wants me dead! She's going to push me overboard and let me drown!"

I shook my head and tried desperately to explain that the life jacket had my initials on it. It wasn't Lily's.

But Paul didn't even look at the initials. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the right side of my face.

The blow sent my head into the metal railing. Blood ran from my ear, and I instantly went deaf on my right side.

"Susie, I was so wrong about you! Lily's only 20. How could you be vicious enough to try to kill her?

"Strip her of all her waterproof gear and supplies! Give everything to Vivian! A vicious witch like her doesn't deserve to stay on this yacht!"

Then Vivian came out of the main suite in my cashmere sweater, slipped her arm through Paul's, and looked down at my bloody face.

"Paul, don't be angry. Susie's just acting crazy because she loves you so much. But we're already running low on fresh water, and keeping her around would only mean one more mouth to feed."

With the rest of the family watching coldly, Ethan and Paul each grabbed one of my arms and tossed me like a piece of trash into the murky floodwater surging across the deck.

Thousands of finger-thick, dark red leeches and horsehair worms burrowed into my body through my mouth, nose, ears, and wounds.

Even in this life, I could still remember the horror of being eaten alive from the inside, my cries for help drowned out by the muddy water filling my mouth. The memory sent a chill through me.

"All done, Ms. Grant. I've also connected the magnetic lock controls to your tablet."

Mark put away his welding torch, grabbed his toolbox, and hurried down the gangway. Moments later, his speedboat disappeared into the curtain of rain.

I turned and went into the lounge at the stern of the second deck. Two retired mercenaries, Taylor Briggs and Ryan Kade, were waiting there. Both were six-foot-three, with Glocks on their hips.

"Taylor, Ryan, remember my rules. No matter what kind of scene that family makes down there, make sure they don't set foot on the stairs to the second deck.

"Once they're in the hold on the first deck, take the jet ski at the stern and leave. The remaining balance will be automatically transferred to your Swiss bank accounts."

Taylor checked his magazine and gave a crisp nod.

"Don't worry, boss. We've got this. They're just a bunch of regular people. We won't even need to pull our guns."

I smoothed my shirt, opened a black umbrella, and walked slowly to the boarding gate on the first deck.

The storm had whipped up six-foot waves. In the distance, floodwaters had risen past the bases of the streetlights in low-lying streets. Dead rats and fish floated belly-up in the murky water.

Paul and his family were floundering through calf-deep muddy water toward slip three, looking utterly wretched.

There were 13 hours left until Rosalind made landfall.