The First Strike Novel

---- Chapter 4 Richard Voss didn't wait for dinner. Caroline's contact at his pharmaceutical company-a paralegal in their legal department-texted at . Voss had returned from the airport, opened the courier package, and immediately ordered a forensic accounting of every account Sophie had access to. By 2:30, he'd changed the locks on their Park Avenue apartment. By 3:00, he'd filed for annulment on grounds of fraud. "He's moving fast," Caroline observed, reviewing the updates. "Wouldn't you?" "I'd have hired a private investigator before the wedding.

But Voss was lonely after his first wife died. Sophie targeted him specifically." She pulled up a timeline on her screen. "Met him at your birthday party-the same one where she met Blake. Started the affair with Blake two weeks later. Proposed the murder scheme within a month." The scope of it made me dizzy. "She was planning this for a year." "Longer. Sophie Martin has been running variations of this scheme since college. | found two previous engagements she broke off when the marks ran out of money. You're just the biggest target she's ever targeted," My phone rang. Unknown number.

"Answer it' Caroline said. "Speakerphone." | tapped the screen. "Olivia Chen." "Olivia." The voice was male, raspy with stress. "This is Richard Voss. |... | got your aunt's package." | said nothing. ---- "| didn't know," he continued. "About any of it. The blackmail, the beach house, you. She told me she was single. That she'd been hurt before. | thought..." He laughed, bitter and broken. "| thought | was rescuing her." "You married a woman you knew for six weeks." "| know how it sounds. I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm calling because..." He paused. "Sophie's gone.

She left the apartment an hour ago with two suitcases and her passport. She's trying to get to the Caymans." Caroline leaned toward the phone. "Mr. Voss, this is Caroline Park. How do you know her destination?" "She booked a flight. First class, one-way. Leaves JFK at 6:20." Voss's voice hardened. "I want her stopped. Not for the money- she can keep it. | want her to face what she did. To Olivia. To those other men. To me." "Why are you telling us this?" "Because your aunt's note said you'd need evidence for criminal charges. | have recordings. Sophie used to talk in her sleep.

Mumble about plans, names, amounts. | started recording her after the wedding. | thought she was having nightmares." Caroline and | exchanged glances. "Those recordings are admissible in New York," she said. "If you obtained them legally." "It's my apartment. My security system. My property." Voss laughed again, joyless. "Send someone to pick them up. I'm at goo Park Avenue, apartment 2B. I'll wait." He hung up. "Go," Caroline said immediately. "Take Marcus." She gestured to the security guard stationed by her door. "Get those recordings. Voss is distraught but genuine.

Those files could put Sophie away for decades." "What about her flight?" ---- "Already handled." Caroline was typing on her phone. "My security team has men at JFK. They'll make sure Sophie doesn't board that plane." Marcus drove me to Park Avenue in Caroline's black Mercedes. The doorman at 900 Park knew to expect us-Voss must have called down. He rode the elevator with us, silent and professional, and unlocked the apartment door. Richard Voss looked exactly like his pharmaceutical executive photos: silver hair, tailored suit, the kind of face that inspired trust in boardrooms.

But his eyes were red-rimmed and his hands shook as he handed me a hard drive. "Three weeks of audio," he said. "Hundreds of hours. She talked about you constantly, Ms. Chen. Your habits. Your schedule. How 'tragic' it would be when your car went off that coastal road during your honeymoon." My stomach turned. "The honeymoon." "Big Sur. Two weeks in a rented convertible. She and Blake laughed about it. How easy it would be. A curve, a brake failure, a guardrail that wasn't quite secure." | thought of the honeymoon I'd planned. The scenic drives Blake had suggested.

The "romantic" cliffside restaurant he'd researched. They weren't going to wait until after the wedding to adjust to married life. They were going to kill me on day three. "Thank you for this," | managed. "Don't thank me." Voss walked to the window. "I married a woman who helped plan a murder. | slept next to her. | told her things | never told anyone. And all she heard was leverage. Blackmail material. Ways to use me." "You didn't know." "| should have known." He turned to face me.

"A beautiful thirty-year-old doesn't fall in love with a middle-aged widower in ---- six weeks unless she's selling something. | just wanted so badly to believe it was real." Marcus cleared his throat. "Ms. Chen, we should go. Mrs. Voss may not make her flight, but she'll try something else." | nodded. To Voss, | said, "My aunt will be in touch about your testimony." "I'll give whatever you need. Just... make sure she can't do this to anyone else." Back in the car, | plugged the hard drive into Caroline's laptop. The audio files populated instantly, organized by date.

| clicked 'on one from two weeks ago. Sophie's voice filled the car, clear and cold: "Blake says the insurance will pay out within thirty days if it's ruled accidental. We'll have to act fast after. Transfer the money, sell the ring, disappear before anyone gets suspicious." Then Blake, muffled but audible: "What about Olivia's family? Her aunt?" "Caroline Park is old. She'll have a heart attack when she hears. Or we can deal with her later. One thing at a time, baby." | stopped the recording. "Marcus?" "Yes, Ms. Chen?" "Drive to the Four Seasons.

| want to see Blake's face when he learns Sophie recorded everything." "Ms. Park said-" "| know what my aunt said. But I'm done being protected. | want to look him in the eye and see him understand that it's over." Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then he changed lanes, heading downtown. The Four Seasons lobby was quiet at . Business travelers checking in, tourists consulting maps. | walked to the front desk with Marcus trailing three steps behind ---- "I'm here to see Blake Morrison," | told the concierge. "Room 412." "Ms.

Chen?" The concierge recognized my name from the news-Blake's scandal was already trending on social media. "I'm not sure Mr. Morrison is receiving visitors." "He'll see me." | was right. The concierge called up, spoke quietly, and two minutes later, the elevator dinged. Blake stepped out. He looked terrible. Unshaven, clothes wrinkled, the Patek Philippe I'd bought him still on his wrist like some grotesque trophy. His eyes found me and lit up with desperate hope. "Olivia. Thank God. I've been trying to call-" "Save it." | held up the hard drive. "I have the recordings.

Sophie talking in her sleep. Every plan. Every detail. The brake failure. The guardrail. The thirty-day insurance payout." The color drained from his face. "Richard Voss gave them to me. Sophie's husband. Did you know she married him? While she was fucking you and plotting my death?" "|... Lean explain-" "Can you explain the forged signature on my life insurance? Can you explain the embezzlement? Can you explain why you increased my car insurance three weeks before our wedding?" People were staring. Blake noticed and tried to pull me toward a corner. | stepped back. "Don't touch me.

Ever again." "Olivia, please. | was in over my head. Sophie... she manipulated me. She said-" "She said you'd share the money. The Hamptons house. My trust fund. Two million in insurance." | laughed, sharp and cold. "You were going to kill me for a beach house, Blake. Do you understand how small that makes you?" ---- "It wasn't like that-" "It was exactly like that." | stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Here's what's happening now. You're going to prison. Not white- collar prison. Real prison. For embezzlement, fraud, forgery, and conspiracy to commit murder.

Your father is going to lose his Senate seat and probably face charges of his own. And Sophie? She's at JFK right now, trying to flee the country. She won't make it" Blake's eyes widened. "She's leaving?" "Without you. She was always going to leave you. You were the fall guy, Blake. The grieving fiancé who'd take the heat while she disappeared with the money. She played you. Just like you tried to play me." He reached for me again. Marcus moved, blocking him. "Don't, | said. "Don't beg. Don't explain.

Don't do anything except wait for the police to arrest you." | turned and walked toward the exit. Behind me, Blake's voice cracked: "Olivia! | loved you!" | didn't stop. Didn't turn. Just pushed through the revolving door into the October afternoon. Marcus caught up to me at the curb. "That was satisfying to watch, Ms. Chen." "That was just the beginning," | said. "Now let's go make sure Sophie doesn't escape."