Chapter 3 - THE WATCH IN HER HAND
I stared at the watch.
No.
It couldn't be Samuel's.
I knew that watch.
I'd bought it for our tenth anniversary.
A simple silver watch with a black face and a tiny scratch near the clasp.
Samuel loved it.
He wore it almost every day.
When he died, I had held his hand at the hospital.
The watch had still been on his wrist.
I remembered seeing it.
I remembered the paramedic removing it.
I remembered the funeral home returning his personal belongings.
I remembered placing the watch inside the coffin myself.
Yet Brenda was holding it.
The exact same watch.
My voice barely worked.
“Where did you get that?”
Brenda looked at me.
“Samuel gave it to me.”
“That isn't possible.”
“I know.”
“Then you're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
The captain stepped between us.
“Mrs. Cole, sit down.”
She obeyed.
But her eyes remained on me.
I sat too.
Theodore had fallen asleep again.
I was grateful.
I needed both hands free.
“Tell me everything.”
Brenda looked toward the front of the cabin.
“We have less than two hours.”
“Then start talking.”
She took a breath.
“Your husband contacted me six weeks before he died.”
My heart tightened.
“Why?”
“He was investigating something.”
“What?”
“Money.”
I stared at her.
Samuel had worked as a financial systems consultant.
He had always been good with numbers.
But he had never told me about an investigation.
Brenda continued.
“He discovered a series of payments moving through a company called Northbridge Advisory.”
I knew the name.
It was one of Samuel's clients.
“He thought they were laundering money.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did he report it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the money wasn't staying inside the company.”
She looked at me.
“It was being moved to individuals.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“That's why he contacted me.”
The captain looked uneasy.
“Why would he contact you?”
Brenda hesitated.
“Because I worked there.”
I stared.
“You worked at Northbridge?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“Accounting.”
Suddenly the woman beside me didn't look like a random passenger anymore.
She looked like someone carrying a piece of the mystery surrounding my husband's death.
“What happened to you?”
“I found the same transactions.”
Her fingers tightened around the watch.
“I reported them internally.”
“And?”
“My supervisor told me to stop.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“I copied the records.”
Then she disappeared.
“For how long?”
“Almost a month.”
“Why?”
“Because someone followed me.”
She looked down.
“They broke into my apartment.”
My skin prickled.
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“They told me there wasn't enough evidence.”
She laughed bitterly.
“So I ran.”
“And changed your name.”
“Yes.”
The captain looked toward the cockpit.
“We need to understand whether there is an immediate threat.”
Brenda shook her head.
“The threat isn't from me.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Your husband's employer.”
I frowned.
“Samuel didn't work for Northbridge.”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“But he was close to exposing them.”
I thought about Samuel.
The quiet way he used to work late.
The nights he told me he had paperwork to finish.
The time he had come home exhausted and said, “Some things are uglier than they look.”
I had assumed he meant work stress.
Now I wasn't sure.
“Why didn't he tell me?”
Brenda looked at me with something close to pity.
“Because he thought you and the children were safer if you didn't know.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“That sounds like him.”
She nodded.
“He loved you.”
I looked away.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Abigail touched my sleeve.
“Mom?”
I turned.
“Is that Daddy's watch?”
I nodded.
She studied Brenda.
“Why did she have it?”
Brenda's face softened.
“Your father gave it to me.”
Abigail frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted me to know he trusted me.”
My daughter considered that.
Then she asked,
“Did he know he was going to die?”
The entire row went silent.
Brenda's eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
She looked at Abigail.
“I don't think he did.”
That answer hurt more than anything else.
Because it meant Samuel had believed he had time.
Time to come home.
Time to kiss the children.
Time to grow old with me.
Then Brenda reached into her bag again.
This time she removed a folded piece of paper.
She handed it to me.
Samuel's handwriting covered the page.
I recognized it immediately.
My hands shook as I unfolded it.
There were only six words.
If anything happens, trust Genevieve.
I looked at Brenda.
“Why does it say that?”
She stared at me.
“Because I was supposed to find you.”
I couldn't understand.
“Why?”
“Because Samuel believed someone would eventually come looking for the evidence.”
“What evidence?”
She hesitated.
Then she whispered,
“The evidence is not with me.”
“Where is it?”
Her eyes moved toward Abigail.
My daughter sat quietly with her tablet.
Then Brenda said something that made my blood run cold.
“Samuel hid it with your daughter.”
I stared at Abigail.
“What?”
Brenda shook her head quickly.
“Not physically.”
“Then where?”
“Inside something she owns.”
Abigail looked confused.
“What do I own?”
Brenda looked at her backpack.
“The bracelet.”
My eyes went to Abigail's wrist.
A thin blue bracelet hung there.
Samuel had made it for her last Christmas.
I suddenly remembered something.
The day before he died, he had asked Abigail to wear it.
He had said, “Keep this on, sweetheart.”
I had thought nothing of it.
Now Brenda was staring directly at it.
May you like
And suddenly I understood why.
The bracelet had never been just a bracelet.
