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What in the world could Mom possibly have to do with Cristina Cadell from the billionaire TriCPharma Cadell family? Cristina didn’t look old enough to have been born yet when Mom supposedly disappeared.
“Cristina is the primary suspect in her mother’s murder,” Eddie continues. “The two went sailing for a few days near Catalina Island a month ago, and her mother fell overboard. Cristina said it happened one night while she was asleep, but authorities think she was involved.”
“Jesus.” Christina may have come across as a bit unhinged, but she didn’t strike me as a sociopath, let alone someone capable of killing their own mother.
“They were planning to arrest her and hold her without bail because she was considered a flight risk due to herfamily’s wealth, but someone tipped her off that they were onto her, and she fled before they got to her—right after visiting your office.”
“Where did she go?” I ask.
“Right now, it looks like she’s on a private plane to Barcelona,” he says.
“Will they extradite her after she lands?”
“She’s too high profile. Think Roman Polanski. Spain won’t let the Feds do that without going through the Spanish courts first, and who knows where she’ll be by then. They assume she won’t stay put.”
“Do they really think she killed her mother?” I ask. “Why would she do that?”
“I have no idea. There’s no known motive yet. Paul mentioned that her mom was a pharmaceutical rep for TriCPharma before she married William Cadell Jr. They divorced a few years ago.”
As upset as I am at the thought that my mom might still be alive, and might’ve abandoned me, a sense of despair takes hold, watching my one chance of locating her disappear. Cristina was my only hope of finding out where Mom might be, and now she’s a fugitive on her way to Europe.
“Are you okay, Beans?” Eddie asks me after a long silence.
“Not really,” I say.
“We’ll get through this,” he says. “I promise. You’re coming over tonight after work, right?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Good, we’re looking forward to seeing you,” he says.
After we hang up, I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. It dawns on me that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, so I quickly walk to the kitchenette.
When I open the door, I find two of my colleagues, Rona and Owen, eating their lunches.
We exchange hellos as I microwave an Amy’s Mac & Cheese meal that I stored in our communal freezer early this morning.
They’re focused on a small television we keep on the counter next to the coffee maker, watching the breaking news about Cristina Cadell.
“Guess she’s figured out how to run away from the law too,” Owen says.
“Like father, like daughter,” Rona says. “Do you think the brothers will finally get what they deserve with the new charges?”
“I’m not holding my breath,” Owen responds. “They’ve managed to skirt the law this long.”
The microwave beeps loudly, startling me. I pull out my meal and join them at the table.
“Did you hear?” Owen turns to me. “One of the Cadell brother’s daughters allegedly killed her mother and fled the country.”
I shake my head, pretending I haven’t heard the news, let alone had the alleged murderer fugitive visit me in our office suite hours ago when she informed me my dead mother might still be alive.
I stick my fork into the mac and cheese and take a bite. The pasta feels like sand in my mouth. I struggle to swallow and stand up, about to throw the entire meal away. But I stop myself. This could turn into a slippery slope, and not one I can afford to go back down. So I sit back down and finish eating.
CHAPTER7
January 1998
ACOUPLE OF DAYSafter the police came to our house, I passed out on my high school soccer field during team practice.
