The wind whipped Ashley's wet hair across her face. She held the phone steady against her ear. "GPS coordinates are 40.7 degrees North, 74.0 degrees West. Send the marine unit."
Edson's face turned purple. He lunged forward, his large hands reaching for the phone.
Ashley shifted her weight to her left foot and twisted her torso. Edson's hands grasped empty air. He stumbled forward, his chest heaving.
Devon stepped in, spreading his arms wide. "Ashley, you're in shock. Give me the phone."
He reached for her waist. Ashley lifted her right leg. The pointed toe of her soaked stiletto drove straight into the center of Devon's shinbone.
Devon let out a sharp grunt. His knee buckled. He dropped to the deck, his expensive trousers soaking up the dirty water. He clutched his leg, his eyes wide with shock.
Ashley looked down at him. Her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths. She spoke into the receiver. "The suspect and his accomplice are currently attempting to physically assault me to take the phone."
The dispatcher's voice crackled through the speaker, elevating the priority of the call.
Brittany's fake tears stopped. Her face drained of color. She grabbed Edson's sleeve, her knuckles turning white.
"Get the phone from her!" Edson roared at the security detail standing by the stairs.
Four massive men in black suits stepped forward. Their heavy shoes thudded against the deck. They formed a tight semi-circle, backing Ashley toward the railing.
Ashley took a deliberate step backward. Her heels hit the bottom rung of the railing. The black, churning water of the Hudson River roared directly behind her.
"Take one more step," Ashley said, her voice dropping an octave. "And I go backward. The phone goes with me. The 911 line is open and recording."
The bodyguards stopped dead. They looked back at Edson.
A high-pitched wail pierced the night air. Red and blue lights cut through the darkness, reflecting off the black water. The socialites on the deck began to step back, their whispers turning into panicked murmurs.
Edson wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He forced his facial muscles to relax into a sickeningly sweet smile. "Ashley, sweetheart. Let's not do this. Think of the company's stock price tomorrow."
"I don't care about your stock price, Edson," Ashley said. Her voice was flat.
Two heavy NYPD tactical boats flanked the yacht. Massive spotlights clicked on, blinding everyone on the deck. Brittany shrieked and threw her hands over her eyes.
"Cut the engines!" a voice boomed through a megaphone.
The yacht's deep rumble sputtered and died. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the slapping of waves against the hull.
A police captain vaulted over the railing, his heavy tactical boots hitting the deck. Four officers followed him, their hands resting on their utility belts. The captain's eyes scanned the crowd. "Who called it in?"
Ashley raised the phone high in the air. Her wet dress plastered to her skin, making her look fragile, but her spine was perfectly straight. "I did."
The captain stepped between Ashley and the bodyguards.
Brittany rushed forward. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "Officer, please. It was just a silly sisterly prank. She slipped."
The captain held up a hand, forcing Brittany to stop. "Step back, miss."
Ashley pointed a freezing finger at the deck. "Look at the water trail. If I slipped backward, the scuff marks from my heels would push forward. The marks go sideways. I was shoved from the right."
The captain looked down. He signaled to an officer, who immediately pulled out a camera and started taking pictures of the deck.
Devon stood up, wincing. He smoothed his ruined suit. "Captain, I am Devon Garrett. My family owns Garrett Financial. This is a private event."
The captain didn't blink. "Interfere with my investigation again, Mr. Garrett, and you'll leave this boat in cuffs."
Edson's private lawyer pushed through the crowd. He handed the captain a glossy business card. "Officer, this is a minor domestic dispute. We can handle this internally."
"I am a legal adult," Ashley said loudly. "And I am pressing criminal charges for attempted manslaughter today."
The captain turned to the lawyer. "Pull the security footage for this deck."
Edson's eyes darted to the side. He swallowed hard. The yacht's manager stepped forward, his hands shaking. "The, uh, the cameras on the aft deck are currently down for maintenance."
A low murmur rippled through the guests. The pristine image of the Sawyer family cracked right down the middle. Brittany bit her lower lip so hard a drop of blood welled up.
The captain sighed. He looked at Ashley. "Without the footage, and with her claiming it was an accident, I can't make an arrest right now. But we need everyone at the precinct for statements."
Ashley's jaw tightened. She knew this would happen. She nodded once. "Fine. Let's go to the precinct."
The officers began herding the furious guests toward the gangway. Edson grabbed a champagne flute from a passing tray and smashed it against the bar. The glass shattered, spraying over Devon's shoes.
The party was dead. The Sawyer name was a joke.
A female officer wrapped a crinkling silver foil blanket around Ashley's shoulders. Ashley walked down the gangway. The cold wind bit at her exposed calves. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
She locked eyes with Brittany. Ashley's stare was completely hollow, like looking at a corpse.
Brittany gasped. Her knees gave out. She stumbled on the metal stairs. Devon caught her by the waist, pulling her against him.
Ashley turned away and got into the back of the squad car. The neon lights of the city strobed across her pale face as they drove toward the precinct.
Two hours later, Ashley walked out of the interrogation room. Her muscles ached. The foil blanket rustled around her.
Edson stood at the end of the linoleum hallway. His lawyer walked up to Ashley.
"Ms. Sawyer," the lawyer said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Per your father's instructions, all of your credit cards and bank accounts have been frozen. Effective immediately."
Ashley looked at the lawyer. She let out a short, breathy laugh. Her lips curled into a smirk.
