Tremors run through me.Fuck. The setup is quintessential Mom. Another text.
–Klein: Pretty, isn’t she? Things didn’t have to get this ugly if she hadn’t resisted the family reunion. Not sure why, since I wasso nice to her. Regardless, it won’t do for her to be so rude to her future mother-in-law.
–Me: Where the fuck are you?
–Klein: On a boat. Find me. Alone. Let’s have a proper reunion. It’s long overdue.
I rush out, cursing that I didn’t rent a car. The limo is too cumbersome, and I don’t have time to wait for the chauffeur.
I burst out of the main entrance and run down the steps as quickly as I can. I almost crash into Tolyan, who has his face in his phone.
“Got a car I can borrow?” I ask.
Only his eyes move as he looks at me. “Don’t you have a limo?” His voice is gravelly, as though he hasn’t spoken in days.
“Yeah, but this is urgent. Can’t wait for my driver. Can you help—”
“Your name isn’t Elizabeth King.” Tolyan taps the phone screen, jerking his chin at the opera house. “They’re starting.”
Impatience wells, but I stomp on it. “They got my money. It’s important.”
Still glaring at the phone, he reaches into his pants pocket and tosses me a fob. “Take this.” He points to a black Mercedes coupe parked three yards from us.
“If you ever need to fuck somebody up in court, call me,” I call out as I run to the car.
He laughs. “The day I need to fuck somebody up in court is the day I retire.”
I jump into the car, start the engine, then floor it, trying to work out the logistics of what Mom has done.
Klein’s been gone for less than half an hour, so she couldn’t have gotten very far. Mom said she was on a boat, but given her personality and preference, it won’t actually be aboat. It’ll be some grand yacht where she can show off. Because this reunionisn’t about convincing me, but forcing me into accepting the outcome she wants.
As I drive, I call Dad using the hands-free function on the car.
“Hello?” He sounds confused. “Aren’t you at—”
“Mom took Klein,” I cut in. “She claims to be on a boat. We’re in San Diego, but no cops or sirens. She specifically asked me to come alone. I’ll share my location as soon as I find her.”
“Got it.” He hangs up.
I drive along the coastline…and soon hit the nearest marina. Mom didn’t have much time to work with, so Klein is stashed somewhere close. I start location sharing with The Fogeys and my brothers, then look around. Countless boats…and of coursefiveyachts.
Fuck.
I’m not going over to all five. Klein may not have much time. Mom’s capricious and has a terrible temper. She actually hit Bryce—hurting Klein wouldn’t even be an afterthought.
The first yacht doesn’t seem like it. Too much in the way of generic rich-dude vibes. My gut shivers at the name on the second yacht—theArchidamia. The ancient Spartan queen who rallied women to defend their homeland. It would appeal to Mom’s long-held bitterness that Vincent never gave her a fair shot because she’s a woman.
A dinghy is waiting for me. No sailor manning it, but I know Mom sent it.
I hop on and go over to theArchidamia. Nobody on the deck.Weird. I thought she’d come in person to “welcome” me.
It’s an effort to think past the adrenaline.How much time do I have before Mom decides she’s tired of keeping Klein alive?
I pull my phone back out and take a good look at the photo she sent. Not the deck. More like a room. I make my way to the cabins, and open the door to the first one.
What the fuck?
I almost take a step back. The cabin is an exact replica of Dad’s home office. Dad’s sitting at his desk, reviewing a thick stack of papers. He’s in one of his favorite navy suits, one Akiko had custom-made in Japan. What’s he doing—
