Part 14: The Palm Beach Perimeter
## Part 14: The Palm Beach Perimeter
The air in Florida didn't smell like salt and rain.
It smelled of warm jasmine, heavy humidity, and the expensive fuel of three hundred luxury yachts idling in the Intracoastal Waterway.
We sat in the back of an armored black sedan at the edge of the marina, the palm trees casting long, jagged shadows across our dashboard monitors.
Liam wore a lightweight grey linen suit, but his expression was just as frozen as it had been on the Boston docks.
"The vessel is named The White Orchid," Marcus said from the front seat, pointing to a sixty-foot custom cruiser docked at the far end of the pier.
"The clearance papers were signed using a forged passport from Panama."
"He’s on board alone, boss."
"The buyers from New York are currently waiting in a silver Mercedes near the main gate."
I looked through the tinted window at the white hull of the boat.
My father was inside.
The man who had spent twenty years letting me believe he was dead, while he was using my grandfather's needles to buy his way out of a criminal grave.
"I'm going in alone, Liam," I said, my hand reaching for the door handle.
"Cora, absolutely not," Liam hissed, his grip catching my wrist with a force that made my silver bracelet click.
"He has two armed security men from the Miami docks on that stern."
"He won't shoot his daughter in front of federal marshals, Liam," I said, turning my face to look at him.
"And more importantly, he needs my verification seal to clear the Rotterdam transfer codes."
"He thinks I’m still the naïve girl from the suburbs who wants an apology."
"Let him see the chairperson."
Liam looked at my face for three long seconds, the gray ice in his eyes fracturing into something like a quiet, dangerous pride.
"Marcus," he ordered.
"Establish the second perimeter."
May you like
"If a single weapon clears a pocket on that dock, turn the whole marina into an enforcement zone."
I stepped out into the warm Florida night, my heels silent against the wooden planks of the pier as I walked toward the white cruiser alone, my navy jacket unbuttoned, my grandfather's silver shuttle clutched tightly inside my palm like a weapon.
