The police had restricted tourists and visitors to the area, but anyone owning a home along the banks of the river, as Beaujean did, was allowed to enter. His offer to allow her to stay at his riverfront home, which was more like a fortified mansion, had been a godsend when she’d needed it most. Mena had been surprised to wake and find him in the kitchen waiting for her this morning. He hadn’t called or indicated that he’d be coming by to check on her.
“I don’t know. I can’t leave yet, but I understand if you want me to find other accommodations. I’m sure you didn’t expect for me to be here this long.”
“You should come back to St. Basil. Omar and Regina are worried sick about you. There’s plenty of work to keep you busy and take your mind off the waiting.”
“I’ve talked to them and my mom and dad almost every day. They understand why I can’t leave yet. Not until there’s some news about where Julian is. I can’t even think about work. That’s probably not what you want to hear,” Mena said, annoyed by his insistence that she get back to normal.
“No. It isn’t. But your team is managing without you, although none of them are as skilled and experienced with laser conservation as you are. There’s a backlog building that needs your special attention—”
“Beaujean, I don’t care about that. Julian is missing … unless,” Mena paused, turning to stare at her boss. He’d summoned her to his home before to reassure her after the presumed abduction of Julian from Tiverton. “Do you know where Julian is? Do you know that he’s okay?”
“Not this time. I don’t know anything more than you.” Beaujean said, plucking a heliconia flower from an overgrown bush along the hiking trail. “There’s nothing you can do for Julian here. It’s just waiting for the cops to find him or for him to emerge on his own. You sure you don’t want to go to St. Basil?”
“I can’t explain it, but I feel like he’s still here … in St. Mateo. I need to stay a little longer for my own peace of mind,” Mena said.
“Intuition can be a powerful motivator. It can also mislead you from the obvious truth.” Beaujean’s words were slow, hesitant, as he looked at her intently.
“Julian isn’t dead. I know he isn’t,” Mena insisted. “I’ll pack my things and be out of your home this afternoon. I’m sure I can find another cabin nearby available for rent.”
“I’m not kicking you out. You can stay at my place as long as you need,” Beaujean said, dismissing her offer. “I’ve been where you are, Mena. I knew in my gut without any doubt that I’d be able to pick my life back up from the moment it had been snatched away from me. I’d have to do a bit of damage control for some mistakes I’d made back then, but I would be able to get everything back that I had. But I was wrong. My instincts were wrong. Everything I thought I could have when I woke from that coma no longer existed. I hope your reality turns out different from mine.”
Turning slowly, he left her alone and headed back up the trail.
Crossing over the hiking trail, Mena detoured down a beaten path that led to the convenience store near the road. A steady stream of cars passed as locals with vacation homes in the area finished their hikes for the day. Mena would give anything to be here on vacation with Julian. Not wondering where he was. Or if he was still alive. She didn’t know how she’d survive if Julian was gone.
At a break in the traffic, she walked across the street to the store and pushed the door open.
“Good afternoon, what can I get for you?” The clerk behind the counter grabbed her thick dark tresses and twisted her hair into a bun on top of her head.
“Junk food?” Mena asked, glancing around the store at the rows of health food, salads, juices and water.
The woman gave her a wink, then dropped below the counter. After several seconds she stood back up, holding a couple of packages of chocolate chip cookies. “This is the best I can do.”
“I’ll take it,” Mena said.
“Haven’t seen you around before. Are you a new owner of one of the properties?” the clerk asked.
“No. My boss owns the house up on the ledge across the street and is letting me stay there for a while.”
“I know the house you’re talking about. It’s stunning.” the clerk said, ringing up the two packages of cookies. “Would you like some water or pop with that?”
“Water would be great, thank you.” Mena leaned against the counter and stared out the windows of the storefront. A group of coast guard divers, holding heavy equipment on their backs, hiked along the side of the road, heading toward the river.
“You picked a bad time for a vacation. Its tense here with all the cops and PIIB agents scurrying around looking for that missing inmate. But they’ve shifted focus now.”
“Shifted focus in what way?”
“That group of guys that passed by are part of the search and recovery unit of the island coast guards. They were in here this morning talking about how they found evidence that the inmate had drowned, and his body was probably floating in one of the underground caves that the river flows over. Divers are being sent in to find his body.”
Chapter Forty-Six
The failure to recover the body of missing inmate, Julian Montgomery, over the past two weeks has perplexed local law enforcement in St. Mateo and the Palmchat Islands Investigative Bureau. An anonymous source within the PIIB indicated that the agency has not ruled out the option that the ex-U.S. Navy SEAL could have survived the fall from The Lonely Sister Waterfall in St. Mateo and is alluding capture.
“Is this true?” Mena asked, reaching across the table cluttered with the remnants of the buffet breakfast to hand the tablet back to Linda Montgomery.
The retired Naval Intelligence Officer reached a thin hand toward the electronic device and placed it in the oversized purse resting on her lap.
The latest article in thePalmchat Gazettegave Mena a bit of hope. More than she’d been able to muster as the days stretched with no sign of Julian. The burner phone he’d given her remained frustratingly silent.
