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Escape, the Complete Trilogy

Page 68

by David Antocci

He did his best to offer a comforting grin. He wasn’t about to tell Ava what he had just learned. “Nothing. Just tired. I’m going to step outside to make a call, alright?”

  Ava stretched and rolled over. “OK.”

  Once outside, Donny paced, trying to decide what to do first. He looked at the phone and hit the speed-dial as Abby instructed last night.

  A few thousand miles away, Robert looked down at his phone. He didn’t recognize the number, but few people had his private line. Judging by the area code and the conversation he had yesterday, he ventured a guess at who was on the other line.

  Her cheerily answered the line, “Abby, my dear. Please tell me that you’re done with this nonsense and are coming home.”

  “This isn’t Abby,” Donny said sadly, recognizing the voice on the other side. “This is a friend.”

  Robert’s expression quickly changed from his normal jovial state to concerned, then morose, as Donny relayed the events of the last twelve hours.

  “Abby said to call you,” Donny continued. “Ava isn’t safe. I need to get her out of here. I don’t think her sister Sarah is safe either. Abby said there was a plan in place for them.”

  “Yes, there is.” Robert drifted away for a moment trying to process the news. He shook it off for the time being; there would be time to grieve later. “Let me make a couple of phone calls. I will contact Sarah.” Robert thought a moment about what he and Abby had discussed. “Are you still in Sandy Point?”

  “Yes, in a ho...”

  “It doesn’t matter where,” Robert said, cutting cut him off. “There’s a small municipal airport about thirty minutes west in a town called Pearse. It’s right on the lake. Can you get there?”

  “Yes, sir. Should we leave now?”

  “If you’re safe where you are, sit tight but keep this line open and be ready to move when I call.”

  * * *

  Donny stared blankly out the window of the private jet as they crossed the Canadian border for the second time that morning.

  Robert worked quickly to make sure one of his planes picked up Ava and Donny within the hour. After his conversation with Abby last night, he had dispatched his jet to Chicago with a hunch that a get away vehicle would be needed. After a quick jump to Montreal, where they picked up Sarah and her few belongings, they were on their way back over the border en route to Los Angeles. Robert was there working on the preparations for the next season of Trial Island, and while he and Abby had discussed the scenario, they hadn’t realistically entertained any details. He and Sarah would have to come up with a plan.

  Donny wasn’t even going to get on the plane, but Robert convinced him that Abby left her daughter in his care and he had a responsibility to keep her safe. Not only that, but he was in danger, too, and knowing all that he had done for Abby over the years, Robert insisted that Donny accept his assistance. He tried to say he could take care of himself, but Ava pleaded with him. Since he really had nowhere else to turn, he figured he would at least make sure they got to L.A. safely.

  He rubbed his eyes and downed the rest of his coffee. It had been a long morning, with lots of questions from Ava, none of which he fully answered. For now, she was sitting on the other side of the plane next to her Aunt Sarah, mercifully distracted by the television. Both he and Sarah spent the morning in a state of shock and disbelief. They hadn’t even begun to grieve yet, and certainly weren’t going to do so in front of Ava.

  As the plane began an obvious descent, Donny looked at his watch. He hadn’t been expecting to touch down for another few hours. He asked the flight attendant if she knew why they were landing. She said she didn’t know, but would ask the pilot.

  Ava came over to sit next to him and to watch out the window.

  His heart went out to the little girl. She had been through so much, and now losing her mother was almost too much to bear. He put his arm around her and pulled her close, mostly so she wouldn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes. He made the mistake of looking across the plane and locking eyes with Sarah, at which point both of their eyes spilled over.

  He quickly turned away to dry his with the back of his sleeve.

  The pilot, an interesting character named Captain Frank who had greeted them when they got on the plane in a Hawaiian shirt and straw cowboy hat, came over the intercom system. “Make sure you’re all buckled up back there. We’ll be touching down in a few minutes to pick up one more passenger, and then we’ll be on our way to the west coast. Just sit tight.”

  One more passenger? What the hell is going on?

  As they neared the ground, Donny recognized the airport as the same one they had taken off from that morning.

  As the plane taxied to a stop at the end of the small municipal runway, Ava beamed a huge smile and jumped up and down pointing out the window.

  Donny turned to see a petite figure dressed in black walking up to the plane with a slight limp. A huge grin took over his face, and he raced to the front of the plane.

  28

  ABBY LAUGHED at the interviewer’s comment as the director called a break. She touched the young girl on the shoulder as they stood. “This hasn’t been nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Thank you.”

  The girl was speechless as Abby turned and walked away to chat with Robert.

  Just yesterday, Liz Bennington had been a low-level intern at Robert’s cable news outlet, and today she was conducting what could only be described as the interview of a lifetime. The established and celebrated news personalities she had spent the last six months fetching coffee for would have killed for this opportunity to sit down with Abby.

  When she got a phone call from Robert, she was only told that she was the best choice for a special segment he was personally working on and to drop everything and prepare to be away for a couple of days. When the billionaire owner of your news outlet drops something like that in your lap, you do exactly what he asks. Though she was unsure at the time how her internship and her blog—albeit a popular one—qualified her to work with someone of his stature. But she wasn’t about to point that out to him either.

  Liz was then whisked away to some beautiful village in Italy and brought to a gorgeous villa, which had been taken over by the camera and lighting equipment. She tried to get information from the crew, hair, and make-up people about what exactly was going on, but none of them had a clue either. Of course, things made a little more sense once Abby entered the room. Liz had dedicated the last few years of her life to maintaining the most popular blog on the web about Trial Island, and specifically Abby: her disappearance, subsequent death, and all of the conspiracy theories surrounding it.

  As Abby sat down, Liz smiled at her as though seeing an old friend. Abby had lost a little weight, showed a few more wrinkles around the eyes, and had shorter hair than her last known photo before she had been shot by the hitman in Canada, but it was definitely Abby.

  Liz knew why she was chosen—it was because she could jump into this interview with zero preparation. It was an interview she had conducted a thousand times over in her head.

  “So,” Liz began, “where have you been?”

  Abby laughed, and they chatted like old friends as Liz walked through the known events surrounding Abby over the past couple years. Abby revealed that she and Eric had spent time living in northern Canada. She teared up recounting the ranch they had lived on and the life they had together. She needed a change of scenery after his death, which is why she was now living in Europe with her daughter, though she declined to disclose where.

  Authorities investigating the fire at Buena Sera quickly linked the restaurant back to the Rosso family. When viewed in light of the raid at the family compound the night before, the fight reported by neighbors and the high-speed boat chase ending in a fiery wreck a short time later, it made all too much sense. The owner of the restaurant was also quickly identified as former mobster Bryce Haydenson. The raid at Rosso’s had not been solved when it fell off the news cycle though most people assumed
it was the feds.

  Dive teams scoured the bottom of the lake under the wreck for nearly two weeks searching for bodies, but with Bryce sleeping with the fishes fifty miles southwest of there, none were found. The helicopter team never saw anyone jump from the boat or otherwise leave the craft, though, so the occupants had to be dead.

  Agent Eddie Vines never got to claim the headlines or the glory. When his two-man team reported to their director what happened—that the agents could have diffused the fight before it started if Vines hadn’t given the command to stand down to increase his notoriety—news quickly traveled up the chain of command. The powers that be knew the story would be huge, and this would be another major black mark against the agency. A gag order was placed on Vines and the other two men, their reports sealed as confidential. Any party found to reveal details about what truly happened would be prosecuted, with the full force of the government behind it. Abby’s involvement was never disclosed, though a rumor surfaced, which the feds quickly disproved. Vines lived out the last few months after his retirement on a small pension until dropping dead of a heart attack at a boat dealership.

  There had been rumors and theories that Abby had been behind it all. Those rumors mainly stemmed from the claim of a young girl who was a hostess at Buena Sera. She claimed that Abby came into the restaurant and started the fire in a rage. Though she maintained her story, she, too, disappeared from the news cycle as quickly as she’d come on the scene.

  All the while, Abby hadn’t shown her face in public. After all, she was dead.

  Until now.

  The media was the last piece. Abby intended to live out her life quietly with her daughter. She didn’t want to spend the rest of it looking over her shoulder, waiting for someone to find her, to figure out who she was.

  Robert convinced her to address it head on. “Give them what they want,” he said. It took convincing, but ultimately she agreed that it was best. If she sat down for an interview and put it all out there, the story would be over. There would be nothing left for anyone to chase after. It made sense.

  So here they were in a remote village in northern Italy, laying it all out for everyone to hear.

  As Liz wrapped up the interview, she folded her hands on her lap. “It certainly has been a ride, hasn’t it, Abby?”

  She nodded. “One hell of a ride, that’s for sure.”

  “You know, I’m sure the studios are clamoring for the rights to your life story. I certainly wouldn’t be the first one to say it should be made into a movie, or at the very least, a book.”

  Abby chuckled and gave Liz a smile. “No one would ever believe it’s all true.”

  * * *

  Abby never saw the interview. Nor did anyone on her island, but Robert said it was a huge success. Also, the current season of Trial Island was a massive success. The extra media attention from Abby’s story shot the show back to the top of the ratings and having been back for a couple of years, the island was populated with a sizeable cast that made for must-see viewing.

  As she emerged from the well-beaten path that led from the market back to her beachfront villa on her little secluded island, the scene took her breath away, as it always had.

  Slowly walking along the sand toward her home in the distance, she contemplated how much her life had changed since JJ found her here nearly three years ago. She had left paradise to explore her past, a past for which she had no memory.

  She smiled as she watched her beautiful daughter in the distance hunting for shells along the shore with Ben, an activity of which neither seemed to grow tired. Ben had grown into a fine young man in the time since Abby and Eric had waved goodbye to him at the end of the dock as they motored away. Abby was hopeful that he and Ava would remain close over the years. She knew Eric would approve.

  Abby felt close to Eric when she was here in the paradise that they built with their own two hands. She missed him, of course, but she always remembered a conversation she had with Robert.

  “You loved Eric, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Abby sobbed. “With all of my heart.”

  “And he loved you, of that there is no question, my dear. Look at what he did. He sacrificed his own life to save yours.”

  Abby nodded with tear-filled eyes, recalling the final moments of his life.

  Robert then turned to her and held her face in his hands, as Eric often had. “Do you believe that if Eric were here right now, he would want you to spend your life mourning him over what he did?”

  She shook her head no. He’d want her to be happy.

  “No, he would want you to live your life to the fullest. To celebrate each additional day you’ve been granted. To love and to care for your daughter. To be happy and live without fear. That’s what he would want, Abby.”

  Robert sighed, arm around her as he continued. “I’ve been on this earth a great many years. I’ve amassed an absurd fortune, spent time with every world leader of any consequence, religious leaders of all faiths, leaders of the scientific community—truly the brightest minds in the world. Do you want to know what I learned? The single most important thing?”

  Abby admired his confident smile, the look he got when he was about to impart some wisdom he was especially proud of.

  “None of us—not a single one of us—has a bloody clue. When it comes down to it, we know nothing, and truly are nothing. All my money and power, it’s meaningless outside of the relatively miniscule confines of our society. In life, I am a very powerful man. The instant I die, my money, my power, has no meaning. All that truly matters is the legacy we leave behind. We are nothing more than the lives we touch and the memories we leave behind.

  “Eric gave you the greatest gift another human being can give another. So whenever you find yourself feeling down or bad for yourself, remember that final act of love. Cry because of its meaning if you must; sob at the thought of how beautiful a thing such an act of love truly is, but don’t weep for his loss. As you live on, and Ava lives on, so he lives on in you.”

  Abby remembered that advice now as she sat on the steps and leaned back on her elbows in front of the French doors leading into her cozy villa. She found peace. Ava, in the distance, waved, as did Ben, but they weren’t waving at her.

  Abby looked to her right and smiled as Donny walked onto the beach with an armful of firewood for the evening’s fire. Ben’s father, Jay, and the rest of his family would be joining them for dinner later, and they would all sit around the fire enjoying each other’s company until their eyes refused to stay open any longer.

  Donny smiled as he sat next to her on the step and placed a hand on her knee. She laced her fingers through his and leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

  He reached down and caressed her stomach with his free hand. As she laid her hand over his, she watched his heart skip a beat when he felt a faint kick from their little miracle.

  His eyes opened wide and he smiled. “That never gets old.”

  Abby nodded, beaming, glowing. “Little Erica has been very active today!”

  She lay there, soaking in the sun, knowing that they were not only happy, but safe. Her life felt complete. She was right where she belonged.

  Abby closed her eyes and smiled, letting out an easy breath as she enjoyed her tropical escape. “So this is what true happiness feels like.”

  THE END

  Thank You!

  Thank you for reading the ESCAPE Trilogy. What an adventure for Abby, and for all of us!

  If you liked Abby, you’re going to love Alivia. Turn the page for a preview chapter from my new NEST Series. I would best describe the main character, Alivia Morgan, as a female Jack Ryan. While not a continuation of the ESCAPE books (it actually occurs about 10 years before), if you’re paying attention, you’ll recognize some characters!

  “A good book for those who like a female lead, a little romance, and lots of action. Oh - and over the top physical feats.” – ARC Reviewer

  Turn the page to check it out
!

  NEST: Retribution

  Alivia watched her ten-year-old nephew’s legs speed him across the green field behind her parents’ house, racing away from her toward the river in the distance. The crisp Vermont air was invigorating, and the clear blue sky a perfect contrast to the green hills that acted as a backdrop for Saxton County. She waited just another moment, drawing her arm back. An instant later, she snapped it forward in a perfect arc to let the football loose through the air.

  She admired the flawless spiral, following it until her nephew turned at just the right time to catch the perfectly placed ball.

  “Nice catch!” she shouted.

  “Great throw!” he shouted back.

  He tossed the ball back to his aunt. He was a strong boy for his age, but the ball wasn’t going to make the distance. Alivia rushed forward and dove in time to catch the ball just before it hit the ground as it completed its wobbly tumble through the air.

  Alivia laughed as she got back on her feet and brushed the grass off her fleece jacket. “With a name like Brady, you’ve got to have a better spiral than that. Get over here.”

  Brady ran back to her.

  She bent slightly to his level and held out the ball. “Before we run another route, let’s go over this again. Show me how you hold the ball.”

  He gripped the football not near the center, but almost at the back of it.

  “No, like this,” she said, placing his hands closer toward the center of the ball. “And these two fingers should be over the laces, like this.” She adjusted his grip for him.

  Brady smiled. “Go long.”

  After a quick snap count, Alivia ran a post route, twisting to see a more respectable spiral sailing in her direction. She pulled it in with ease.

  “Nice job!” she shouted as she ran back. “You hungry yet?”

  “Starved,” he said.

  “I need some coffee, too. Let’s grab a bite,” she said, nodding toward the white painted farmhouse a hundred yards up the hill.

  “I’ll race ya!” Brady shouted, taking off.

 

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