“You planned this with Helen,” I said.

“Helen knows which way the wind blows,” Gavin said. “She’s not going to let you ruin this family for your pride.”

He reached down and picked up the briefcase.

“Now stand aside,” he said. “I’m leaving.”

I didn’t move.

I blocked the ramp.

“You’re not going anywhere with that laptop,” I said.

A car door slammed in the distance.

I looked back toward the parking lot.

Headlights cut through the rain, illuminating the pier.

A silver Mercedes was idling near the entrance.

The driver’s side door opened, and a woman stepped out, holding an umbrella.

It was Brooke.

She looked toward the boat, her face pale in the headlights.

“Gavin!” she called out. “We have to go! The police are coming!”

Gavin looked from me to her, desperation taking over his face.

He lunged forward, grabbing my shoulder to push me out of the way.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

The briefcase slipped from his hand, hitting the wooden deck with a loud crack.

It popped open.