Chapter 3 - The Ice Cream Boy's Warning
Twenty-four hours earlier, the promenade at Harbor Island Park in San Diego Bay had been alive with the smell of ocean salt and warm waffle cones. Mateo Cruz spent every Saturday afternoon helping his father sell ice cream from a small blue wooden cart near the waterfront path. Most wealthy tourists walked past without looking at the kid in the dusty orange hoodie, but Michael Vance was always different.
The billionaire visited the park every weekend after checking on his local youth tech center. He was one of the most famous men in America—founder of Vance Aerospace and owner of advanced rocket testing facilities. Yet, when he stopped at Mateo's cart, he was always soft-spoken and kind.
"The usual, Mr. Vance?" Mateo had asked with a bright smile.
"Dark chocolate, one scoop," Michael replied, pulling out a crisp bill. "Any more and my doctor starts sending me very angry emails."
The ice cream cost four dollars. Michael handed him a twenty-dollar bill and waved his hand away when Mateo tried to offer the change. "Keep the rest for your rocket fuel fund, future astronaut."
"How do you know I want to be an astronaut?" Mateo asked, eyes wide.
"You read that red book on Mars propulsion every time I come here," Michael said with a warm laugh.
However, yesterday afternoon, Mateo had accidentally overheard a dark conversation. While retrieving a box of fallen paper napkins from behind a thick laurel hedge near the private docks, Mateo heard hushed, urgent voices. Sitting on a secluded bench were Julianna Vance and a sharp-looking man in a expensive grey suit—Daniel Mercer, a high-profile estate lawyer.
"The private stern balcony has zero security cameras," Julianna had whispered coldly, adjusting her sunglasses. "Michael refused to install cameras outside our suite. He insisted on having one place aboard where he could have complete privacy."
"And the crew?" Mercer had asked, looking around nervously.
"They will be busy preparing the five-course dinner for thirty guests at five-forty-five," she said. "If he falls from that height, the speed of the yacht will carry us miles away before anyone notices he's gone."
"What about the legal documents?" Mercer pressed. "The amended trust is scheduled to be signed on Monday. If he signs it, his adult children gain voting control of the company, and you lose temporary control of the board."
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"I know," Julianna spat, her voice laced with venom. "That's why it has to happen tomorrow evening. He falls into the ocean. The insurance policies total one hundred and eighty million dollars, and I am the sole named beneficiary. You get your ten million once the money clears."
Mateo had remained crouched behind the hedge, his hand clamped over his mouth, terrified to breathe until their footsteps faded away.
