Chapter 7: What the Phone Contained
They took us to the enforcement vessel while the Coast Guard secured the *Celestine*.
I sat in a dry cabin wrapped in a foil blanket, a paper cup of coffee warming both hands, while a federal agent named Reyes spread the contents of the burner phone across a table between us.
"Walk me through what you found," she said.
"In order."
I did.
She listened without interrupting, making small notes on a yellow legal pad.
When I finished, she turned the phone over in her hands.
"The contact labeled Cassandra," she said.
"Do you know her last name?"
"No."
"The photo — the one with your engagement ring."
"Yes."
Reyes set the phone down.
"Ms.
Sterling, I need to tell you something, and I need you to hear it clearly." She waited until I met her eyes.
"This phone contains communications going back fourteen months.
The planning for tonight did not begin after your wedding.
It began before Flynn proposed to you."
The coffee cup was warm in my hands.
I focused on that.
"How long before?"
"The first message referencing you by name is dated sixteen months ago." She turned the legal pad so I could see the note she'd written.
"At that point, you and Flynn had been dating for approximately two months."
Two months.
We had been together two months when he started planning this.
"Cassandra," I said.
"Who is she?"
Reyes paused — the pause of someone deciding how much to say.
"Her full name is Cassandra Merritt.
She and Flynn have been together for four years.
The relationship did not end when he began pursuing you." Another pause.
"She was aware of the plan."
I set the coffee cup down.
"My parents," I said.
"The brake failure.
Has anyone—"
"We contacted your father forty minutes ago through local law enforcement.
He and your mother are safe.
They've been asked to remain at home until federal agents can reach them." Reyes leaned forward slightly.
"Your message got through, Ms.
Sterling.
The satellite app sent it on the third attempt.
Your father was already calling his security team when we reached him."
Something loosened in my chest — a knot I hadn't known was there until it released.
"Aidan and Fiona," I said.
"They're part of this."
"They're in separate cabins on the *Celestine* right now, being interviewed by my colleagues." She picked up her pen.
"The man who knocked on your door earlier — crew member, bribed by Flynn — is also in custody."
"And Flynn?"
Reyes looked at me steadily.
"He asked for a lawyer approximately ninety seconds after we boarded."
"Of course he did."
"He also said—" She stopped.
Set her pen down.
"He said the whole thing was your idea.
That you staged it.
That you found the phone yourself and planted the messages."
I looked at her.
"He said that."
"He did."
I thought about the fourteen months of messages on that phone.
The photo of Cassandra wearing my ring.
The message: *Soon it'll be yours.*
"Agent Reyes," I said.
"How long has your team been on this?"
She held my gaze.
"Since this morning.
We received an anonymous tip at oh-six-hundred.
Someone who knew the plan, knew the yacht, knew the timeline." She picked up her pen again.
"We were already moving when your mayday came in."
I stared at her.
"Who sent the tip?"
Reyes looked down at her legal pad.
May you like
She wrote something, then turned it to face me.
One word: *MARA.*
