Chapter 2 - The Bride Who Knew Too Much
The bathroom handle jerked violently.
“Laura!”
It was Derrick.
For one desperate heartbeat, I thought he had finally chosen me.
Then he whispered through the door:
“Give me your purse.”
I stared at the wood.
“What?”
“Mom says you brought work papers.”
So that was why he had returned.
Not because his premature child might be coming.
Because they were afraid of what I carried.
Another contraction rolled through me, lower and sharper.
“I need an ambulance.”
“I know.”
“Then unlock the door.”
He did not.
Instead, he lowered his voice.
“Laura, listen carefully. Whatever you think you found, you don’t understand the company.”
My breath caught.
“You know what I found?”
Silence.
That answered everything.
I had spent two weeks telling myself there might be an innocent explanation for Derrick’s signatures.
He had just murdered that hope himself.
“What did you sign?”
“Open the door and we’ll talk.”
“You have the key.”
“I need to know you’re going to be reasonable.”
Reasonable.
I almost laughed.
I was kneeling on a bathroom floor in premature labor while my husband negotiated access to evidence.
Behind him, Regina’s voice cut through the corridor.
“Derrick! Get her phone!”
Then another voice.
Kayla.
“What is happening?”
The bride had finally left her own reception.
“Nothing,” Regina snapped.
“Why is Laura locked in there?”
“Because she’s hysterical.”
I hit the door with my palm.
“I’m in labor!”
Silence outside.
Then Kayla whispered, “Mom?”
For the first time, I heard uncertainty.
Regina immediately recovered.
“She always does this. Every family event becomes about her.”
“That doesn’t explain why the door is locked.”
Derrick said something too quiet for me to hear.
Then Kayla’s voice sharpened.
“No. Give me the key.”
My heart jumped.
Perhaps Kayla was selfish.
Perhaps spoiled.
But I had never seen her deliberately cruel.
The corridor erupted into arguing.
Then the building alarms began.
Not fire alarms.
Security alarms.
Three pulsing tones I recognized from Highland Ridge’s emergency protocol.
Rachel.
I dragged myself toward the wall and forced my breathing into a rhythm.
A minute later, heavy footsteps thundered from the reception hall.
Someone shouted:
“State investigators! Nobody leaves the property!”
The bathroom went silent.
Then Regina screamed:
“You cannot come in here! This is a private wedding!”
Rachel Stone’s voice answered with terrifying calm.
“Not anymore.”
The lock turned.
The door opened.
Rachel stood there in a dark blazer with two investigators behind her and a paramedic team already pushing forward.
The moment she saw me on the floor, professional control disappeared from her face for half a second.
“Laura.”
A paramedic knelt beside me.
“Thirty-four weeks?” she asked.
I nodded.
“How far apart are contractions?”
“Four minutes. Maybe less.”
“We’re moving.”
Derrick stepped forward.
“I’m her husband.”
Rachel blocked him.
“You’re also named in the warrant. Stay where you are.”
His face changed.
Regina clutched her pearls.
“Warrant for what?”
Rachel did not answer.
She didn’t have to.
Investigators were already moving past us toward the vineyard office and administrative wing.
Guests had spilled into the corridor. Phones were raised. Kayla stood ten feet away in her wedding dress, staring from me to her brother as if the entire foundation beneath her wedding had suddenly cracked.
Then one investigator rushed back.
“Stone.”
Rachel turned.
“We found the accounting office open.”
“So?”
“The shredders are running.”
Derrick went pale.
My heart monitor had not even been attached yet, and I already knew what that meant.
Someone had begun destroying records while I was locked inside the bathroom.
Rachel looked straight at Regina.
“Who was in the office?”
Regina said nothing.
But Kayla did.
May you like
Slowly, almost unwillingly, she raised one shaking hand.
And pointed toward her new husband.
