“No,” Linda replied, then sighed heavily as she signaled for the server. The polite man dressed in crisp white scurried toward the table, slipped the credit card from Linda’s hand and rushed back toward the kitchen. The Reuben Hotel in the heart of St. Mateo’s resort district was abnormally sparse this morning. With the search for the missing Tiverton inmate winding down, tourists were striking out to enjoy the attractions of the island without fear of running into an armed and dangerous man.
Staring into the intense cornflower blue eyes of the commanding woman, Mena saw none of Julian in her. Fair skinned, blond hair, thin and lithe—features in stark contrast to the man she loved.
Linda continued, “The reporter’s source within the agency either wasn’t being truthful or wasn’t privy to the views of the lead investigators on Julian’s case. Every person I spoke to said the search would soon be abandoned. No one at the agency believes Julian survived the fall. Some suspect that once the tides shift, his body will wash up from one of the underground caves and float to shore.”
Mena looked away, disheartened by how matter-of-fact Linda relayed the possible death of Julian. Not once had Linda shown any emotion about her missing son, treating her trip to St. Mateo as a routine intelligence fact-find mission. Every discussion about Julian being arrested and escaping Tiverton had been performed with military precision—the facts without conjecture.
The only time Linda had softened when talking about Julian was after Mena had gotten her to open up about some of her son’s embarrassing childhood mishaps and his antics with Broman. Linda hadn’t been able to hide the fact that her son was her pride and joy as she shared stories Julian would likely cringe to hear retold. The memories had lightened Mena’s spirits, distracting her from Julian’s disappearance.
“But what do you really think?” Mena pressed.
“I think it’s better if Julian isn’t found … for whatever reason. The truth is the recent evidence hasn’t cleared him. The cops found a partial fingerprint of Priscilla Dumay’s on the burner phone you helped to get from one of those correctional officers, but they still haven’t been able to crack the encryption on the device to see what evidence could be on it. Farouk Essa was bluffing when he said he read texts between Dumay and Russell. He couldn’t even get into the phone. Uma Fischer has disappeared from her rental home in the Tango Lowlands. The court reporter identified Russell as the person who bribed her into taking the syringe into the courthouse, but we don’t know on who’s orders because Russell isn’t talking. Julian is in more trouble than before. The cops believe he staged the prison break. There is no way out for him.”
The server returned, apologizing for interrupting their conversation as he handed the receipt and credit card back to Linda. She signed quickly, then reached for her large luggage resting against the wall near the table.
Mena pushed away from the table and stood, knocking a glass of water to the floor. Fumbling with the napkin to wipe up the spill, Mena said, “So, it’s better that Julian is dead than alive to spend the rest of his life in prison. That’s what you’re saying? You don’t care that your son could be dead.”
Linda stared at the ceiling and took a long, drawn breath. Exhaling slowly, she turned her attention back to Mena. “I really like you. I love that you touched my son in a way that I never thought I would see. His love for you is unconditional. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to protect you. Even if that means leaving you.”
“Leaving me? What are you talking about?”
“Juliancan’tcome back. There is no future for the two of you. Not anymore. If he is found alive, he will spend the rest of his life locked up in a maximum-security prison … withoutyou. That’s a torture my son couldn’t survive. You need to accept this.”
Mena approached Linda, lowering her voice. “Octavia still believes she can get him acquitted. He has other options. He doesn’t need to go on the run. Adam Russell is the better suspect. Octavia can prove reasonable doubt in court.”
“Adam Russell didn’t attack Priscilla Dumay in the courthouse in front of a St. Basil police detective and two prison correctional officers. The cops saw Julian kneeling over her body with the syringe. That domino pushed down all the rest and landed him in trouble. For every inch of him that is good and unselfish, there is that other reckless, take no prisoners, side that always rears its ugly head. He has no one to blame but himself.”
“He didn’t try to kill Priscilla. She set him up.”
“That may be true. This time he was innocent. But I can’t say that’s always been the case for him in the past. Is it irony or karma? When you love a man like my son, it comes with heartbreaking risks, Mena. Julian would never be a safe choice. This was inevitable. It’s time for you to go back to St. Basil and close this chapter of your life.”
Linda grabbed the suitcase handle and walked out of the restaurant into the hotel lobby. Mena lingered behind, unnerved by her assessment of Julian and their relationship. Mena didn’t care if loving Julian came with danger and unpredictability. She knew in her heart he was the perfect man for her. The one she’d never realized she wanted or even needed. Glancing down at the charm bracelet hanging from her wrist, she fingered the key charm, turning it over between her fingers as she caught up with Julian’s mom.
“When we were in Kenya and I got kidnapped, Julian never gave up looking for me. No matter how hopeless it seemed, he would have kept looking until he found me. How can you ask me not to do the same for him? Especially if there is even the slightest chance he survived that fall.”
“Because he would want you to go on with your life. If my son isn’t dead at the bottom of that river, then he’s chosen to live a life on the run. He will need to avoid capture for the rest of his life. That’s not the kind of life he wants for you. He wouldn’t ask you to walk away from your parents, your brothers, your best friends, sacrifice the great life you have to live one of constant danger with him. To be a criminal for him. He won’t do that to you.”
With each of Linda’s words, a suffocating pain enveloped Mena’s heart, threatening to crush her. She couldn’t deny the truth as much as she wanted to. If Julian no longer thought he could beat the charges, would he turn away and not look back?
Mena knew the answer. Sadness welled within her.
A bellhop greeted Linda, grabbing her bag and placed it into the waiting taxi headed to the airport. She turned toward Mena and extended her arms. Mena stepped forward, welcoming the hug from Julian’s mother.
Linda whispered into her ear. “Go back to St. Basil. Go back to your life.”
Releasing Mena, Linda gave her a small smile, then turned and walked to the cab. Mena watched as the woman settled into the backseat and was whisked away from the hotel.
Standing alone in the portico, one thought resonated over and over in her mind.
Julian is alive out there somewhere, and I have to find him.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Wangari, it’s Mena. I’m sorry to call you so late, but it’s an emergency. I need to get in touch with Sunny Tate, your dad’s head of security. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t extremely important. Can you please call me back with a number where I can reach her or ask her to call me?” Mena said, then repeated her phone number into the voice mailbox of Wangari’s cell phone. Ending the call, she steered the rental car up the steep road leading to the riverfront home where she’d been staying for the past couple of weeks.
After Linda left for the airport, Mena had been summoned to yet another questioning by the St. Mateo police. They knew she was staying in the area, but so far, Mena had kept her location a secret with Beaujean’s help. The questions had been the same. Detective Francois badgered her about whether she’d seen or heard from Julian. It pained her to know that her answers were the truth.
She had no clue where Julian was.
