“Yes.” I stand up and shake his hand.
“Hello. I’m Michael Cloustin. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard you speak many times. I always learn something new.”
“I’m glad you found it useful. Are you a banker?”
“Yes. I work on Wall Street.” He hands me his card.
“Did you have a question?” I ask.
He hesitates, then says, “This is going to sound very strange, and maybe I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but…”
“What is it?” I’m now intrigued by what he has to say.
“A few weeks ago, I was in Italy for business and had some time to kill so I took a drive. I ended up in this tiny town.” He goes on to describe it.
It’s the same town where Rachel and I spent part of our honeymoon. We spent Christmas there and loved it so much we even talked about retiring there someday. How odd that this man has been to that same town. And why is he telling me about it?
“I had breakfast there,” he says, “and was talking to the waitress. She’s American, and maybe she missed the company of another American because she wouldn’t stop talking. She even gave me a tour of the town.”
“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” I ask.
“Yes. The woman said she knew you. She wanted me to tell you hello.”
“What’s her name?”
“Jill. I didn’t get a last name.”
“I don’t know anyone named Jill.”
“She talked as though you two used to be good friends.”
I can’t think of who this would be. I meet a lot of people, so it’s possible I know her and just don’t remember her, but we certainly weren’t good friends, as she claims.
“What did she look like?” I ask.
“She’s probably a couple years younger than you. Tall. Thin. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. She’s very pretty. She’s originally from Indiana but said she went to college in Connecticut at um…” He pauses to think. “What’s the name of that small college in New Haven? Begins with an H. Hirshfield! That’s the one. She went to graduate school there and studied American History. Is any of this ringing a bell?”
I’m staring at him, taking in each word, trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. He just described Rachel. Why would he do that? Is this some kind of sick joke?
“Who put you up to this?” I ask in a harsh, angry tone.
“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”
He seems sincere, and very serious, so maybe he’s just the messenger. Maybe someone hired him to do this. But why would he agree to it? He seems like a normal man. And if he really is a banker on Wall Street, he wouldn’t take part in some sick joke.
“Where in Indiana?” I ask, wanting to know what else he knows about Rachel.
“She didn’t tell me the name of the town, but she did say something about a country bar. I don’t know what that has to do with anything but—”
I grab his arm. “Who told you to tell me this?”
He glances down at my hand on his arm and I let him go. “The woman I talked to. Jill. The woman in Italy.”
“There IS no woman in Italy. You’re making this up! Now tell me who sent you here! Was it Royce?”
It sounds like something Royce would do. If anyone has a dark sense of humor, it’s him, not me.
“Royce?” Michael looks confused. “Royce who?”
This man is either a very good liar or he’s some lunatic that looked up information about Rachel online and for whatever reason decided to use that information to make up this story about some woman named Jill.
“She must’ve confused you with someone else,” he says. “I’m very sorry I wasted your time.”
He turns and walks away. He doesn’t seem like a lunatic. So what is going on here? I feel like I want to ask him more, but then it would encourage him and I shouldn’t do that. But then I do.
“Did she say anything else?”
He turns back. “No. That was it.” He takes a couple steps then turns back again. “Actually, she did say something about…” He thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “I can’t remember what it was. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Thank you.”
This is obviously some kind of hoax. This man may not knowingly be in on it, but he was sent here to say those things about my dead wife for a reason I do not understand.
What kind of person would do something like that? If it wasn’t Royce, maybe it was Leland. He hates me because I don’t treat his little princess, Katherine, the way he thinks she deserves to be treated, which would entail agreeing to her every demand. Leland has a sick sense of humor so it could’ve been him. Or one of the other members.
But why would they do this to me? Is this part of my punishment? Make me think my wife is still alive when she’s really not? Or do they just want to torture me for their own amusement?
For a moment there, I really did think Rachel might be alive. But that’s ridiculous. She was on the plane. There were no survivors. And if Rachel were alive, she wouldn’t be living in Italy. She’d be here. With me. And with her son.
I’m not going to mention this to Leland or the other members. I’m not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing their sick joke affected me in any way.
I take Michael’s card from my pocket and throw it in the trash. Then I return to my room to pack my suitcase to go home. Before I start packing, I sit on the bed and close my eyes and try to get that man’s words out of my head. But I can’t do it. Because his words describe the dream I’ve had many times the past nine years. I’ve dreamt that Rachel was out there somewhere, waiting to be with me again. It’s a foolish thought, and I shouldn’t even let my mind entertain the idea.
She’s gone. Rachel is gone. But I still love her. I will always love her.
CHAPTER NINE
Two Months Later
PEARCE
The past couple months I’ve been on edge every second of every day, and it’s all because of Royce. His presidential campaign has been ramping up and he’s determined to be the frontrunner, even though he knows the organization will make sure he wins. But winning isn’t good enough. He wants to be the center of attention in the media for the entire year leading up to the election. He wants the public to adore him. The press to praise him. And his fellow running mates to hate him because he’s so far ahead of them in the polls.
Royce isn’t at that place yet and probably never will be, but that hasn’t stopped him from trying. He’ll do everything possible to get ahead, and he won’t let anyone stand in his way. That’s why he’s been threatening Jade since October. He hasn’t done it himself. He hired people to scare her into keeping quiet.
There was no need to keep her quiet because Jade didn’t even know who Royce was back then, but when I told him that, he didn’t believe me. Then Garret brought Jade to the political fundraiser I had for Royce last month, and Royce was furious. He said I purposely had Jade at the party to expose his secret to the world and destroy his campaign. He accused me of being jealous that the organization chose him instead of me for the role of president, despite knowing how much I despise the whole political system.
It just shows how irrational Royce has become and how paranoid he’s getting about people trying to take him down and ruin his image and prevent him from being president. He’s even accused some of the members of sleeping with his wife, Victoria, saying they’re doing it to harm his image of having the perfect family.
I’ve been trying to control Royce the best I can, but he’s a loose cannon. The organization has been too lenient with him, so now he thinks he doesn’t have to follow the rules. And the truth is, he doesn’t. Every time I think he’ll get in trouble for something, Dunamis looks the other way instead of punishing him. So Royce just continues on, doing whatever he pleases.
But if the members found out about Jade, they might not be so forgiving. Royce should’ve disclosed this secret years ago. Dunamis wouldn’t care that he had an affai
r with Jade’s mother. Our members have affairs all the time. But having a child with the woman is a different story. Dunamis would want to know that, and if they found out, Royce would definitely be punished for not telling them. I can’t tell them because I’m afraid of what they might do to Jade. She’s technically a Sinclair, but she didn’t grow up in our world so I fear the members would see her as a risk and might try to harm her.
This is why I’ve been so on edge the past few months. I’m trying to control Royce, while also protecting Jade. I’m also trying to keep Garret safe. He’s putting himself at risk by dating Jade, but no matter what I do, I can’t get him to stop seeing her. He reminds me so much of myself and how I was with his mother. I risked everything to be with her, and once I had her, there was nothing anyone could do or say to convince me to give her up. Garret is the same way with Jade, which is why I stopped trying so hard to break them up.
But now I’m back to thinking I need to, because being with Jade is just too dangerous. Royce is now targeting Garret. He’s convinced Jade will find out the truth about him the more time she spends with Garret and our family. What Royce doesn’t know is that Jade already knows he’s her father. She found out just the other day, while she was home in Iowa, visiting Frank in the hospital. Frank, in his drugged-up, post-operative state, told Jade about Royce. Apparently, Frank knew that Royce was Jade’s father. Jade’s mother told Frank this years ago.
If Royce found this out, he’d kill both Jade and Frank, and maybe Garret as well. A few days ago, I didn’t think Royce would take things that far, but now? I know he would, because he damaged the brakes on Garret’s car, almost killing Jade and Garret yesterday when they were driving home from the airport. Now I’m so worried about their safety, I have both Jade and Garret staying at my house, until I can figure out what to do with Royce.
The phone rings as I’m sitting in my office. I’m at Kensington Chemical, where I’ve been all morning, trying to figure out how to handle Royce. I check the phone and see that it’s him calling. After what he did, I don’t think I’ll be able to control my anger toward him, but I answer anyway.
“Pearce, we have a problem,” he says.
“That’s a fucking understatement,” I reply.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You damaged the brakes on Garret’s car.” I don’t raise my voice. I remain calm. Doing so always throws Royce off. He likes getting a rise out of people, and when he doesn’t, it confuses him.
“Why would you accuse me of such a heartless crime?” He laughs a little as he says it. “Garret is your son. I have no interest in harming the boy.”
“And yet you tampered with his brakes, hoping he’d get into an accident and die. Along with Jade, who was also in the car.”
“Perhaps if you’d broken the two of them up like I told you to months ago, Garret’s car trouble would never have occurred.”
I pick up a pen and tap it on my desk, my eyes watching it rise and fall in a steady pattern. It’s a technique I use to keep my anger in check. My father does the same thing, which should make me not want to do it, but I do it anyway because it works.
“You will never attempt to harm my son again,” I say. “Do you understand me?”
“I don’t follow orders. You should know that by now.”
“You will when it comes to this. Because I promise you, if you ever try to harm Garret again, I will kill you. I will not hesitate. I will not give you warning. This right now? This is your one and only warning. You will not harm him.”
“If he gets in my way, I can’t control what happens to him. He’s collateral damage. Do what needs to be done for the greater good. It’s the first thing they teach us as members. You should know that more than anyone. Your father lives by that rule.”
“Killing my son is not for the greater good. But killing you would be.” It’s not just a threat. I really will kill Royce if he continues to threaten Garret.
“I don’t like your attitude, Pearce. If anyone should be asking for forgiveness here, it’s you. You said you’d take care of this. You said you’d keep Jade in line and keep her away from Garret. But you didn’t. You lied, and now you have to deal with the consequences.”
“You also lied. You told me it was an affair, when the truth is that you raped Jade’s mother, then beat her until she was nearly dead.”
Jade told me this yesterday. If I’d known this twenty years ago, I would’ve tried to help Jade’s mother. But I trusted that Royce was telling me the truth. I believed him when he said it was an affair. Given his history of abusing the associates, it’s not surprising Royce raped a woman, but I had no way of knowing he’d raped Jade’s mother. He’s good at covering up his sins, which is exactly what he did with the rape.
The phone is quiet, then Royce says, “So she knows. She knows it was me her mother wrote about in that letter.”
He’s referring to a letter Jade’s mother wrote to her years ago. The letter mentioned the rape, but never said who the man was who did it. When Royce found out about the letter, he panicked. He was certain Jade would find out it was him. And she did.
Dammit. I didn’t think Royce would automatically assume it was Jade who told me what happened to her mother. I thought he’d assume I got this information from a police report or a hospital record.
“It wasn’t Jade,” I say. “I did some research and found an old police report filed that night.”
“You’re lying! There IS no police report! I got rid of it, along with all the other evidence. The only evidence that’s left is HER!” Through the phone, I hear something slamming against the wall, followed by the sound of glass breaking. “The bitch knows! She knows I’m her father! Fuck!” More sounds of glass breaking.
“Royce, calm down. It wasn’t her. That’s not how I found out.”
He’s breathing hard. “Then who was it? Who else knows? Garret?”
“No. Jade and Garret don’t know anything. It was someone else who told me.”
“Who?” He yells it.
“Let’s meet somewhere and I’ll tell you.” I need to calm him down before he does something drastic.
“You’re lying again!” he yells. “Lying to protect that bitch! She’s just like her mother. Trying to destroy me. I should’ve killed her mother when I had the chance. Why did I listen to you? I could’ve got rid of them both years ago if it weren’t for you! When I’m done killing Jade, I’m killing you next, Pearce. For destroying my life and making me risk everything for that bitch and her bastard child.”
“Royce, I promise you, Jade doesn’t know about you. Let’s meet somewhere and talk. Where are you right now?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Royce?” I glance at my phone and see that he ended the call.
Shit! I don’t know where he is right now. He should be in Iowa, campaigning, but I don’t trust that he’s there.”
I call his house in Virginia.
The maid answers. “Sinclair residence.”
“Yes, is Royce home?” I leave my office and head to the parking garage.
“Mr. Sinclair is out of town.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No, Sir, I don’t.”
“Put Victoria on the phone.”
“She and the girls are in Florida. Can I take a message?”
“No.” I hang up and hurry to my car.
I should’ve asked Royce where he was before we started arguing. Then again, he probably would’ve lied. What if he’s in Connecticut? If he is, he’ll go to the house. Given his constant state of paranoia, I’m sure he’s having Jade followed, which means he knows she’s at my house.
I call Garret on his cell phone, but he doesn’t pick up.
He’s safe, I tell myself. Jade and Garret are both safe. Royce can’t get in the house. He’d have to get past the gate and the security guards and the locked front door. But the security guards think Royce and I are friends, so they might let him past the gate. They should
n’t, knowing I’m not home, but Royce is good at talking people into doing things.
As I’m driving, I call the security guards. Neither one of them answers. That’s not a good sign. I call the house phone, but it’s busy. Who the hell is on the phone? Katherine is at her parents’ house with Lilly, and Garret never uses the home phone.
I’m now speeding down the road, heading to the house. Royce isn’t there, I say to myself. He’s in Iowa, campaigning. He’s scheduled to be there all week.
It’s true, but it doesn’t reassure me. Royce is unpredictable. He does what he wants. And right now? He wants to kill Jade.
When I arrive at the house, the gate doesn’t automatically open like it normally would when the guards see me approach. That’s concerning. There are two guards and they never go on break at the same time.
I punch the code into the gate, and when it opens, I hit the gas, racing down the long entrance to the house. Right away I see the black Mercedes. It’s not one of mine. It’s Royce’s.
I slam on the brakes and get out of my car and go around to the trunk. As I’m doing so, my eyes catch the sight of two bodies lying on the grass. Royce shot my security guards, multiple times, killing them.
I grab my handgun from the trunk, check that it’s loaded, and run to the front door. I slowly open it and immediately hear Royce’s voice. He’s standing in the foyer, just outside the study. His back is to me and his gun is in his hand, aimed at whoever is in the study.
As I step into the foyer, I hear Garret talking. “Royce. Don’t do this. I’m begging you. I’ll take her far away. We’ll move overseas. You’ll never see or hear from us ever again.”
I raise my gun and aim it at Royce, but before I can shoot, his gun goes off. I fire my gun directly into his back, right over his heart. He collapses onto the tile floor with a loud thud.
I run into the study. “Garret! Jade!” Jade is lying there with Garret covering her. I kneel down beside them, setting the gun on the shelf next to me. “Are you okay?”
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