They Drank My Father’s Champagne and Toasted My Death. They Forgot Whose Daughter I Am
They’re going to put me over the side tonight, at midnight, and make it look like I fell — and next week they’ve got men waiting in the mountains to run Mom and Dad off an icy road.
I heard all of it.
I recorded all of it.
I have the whole conspiracy on tape.”
There was a single beat of silence on the line — the most frightening silence of my life, because I knew this man did not go silent — and then his voice came back, and it had gone flat and fast and operational.
“Give me your GPS coordinates.
Read them off the unit; there’s a display.” I did.