by Anni Taylor
Sniffling and drying her eyes with the heel of her hand, Yolanda grinned.
Thomas stirred the dregs of his soup, looking for a moment like a child who didn’t want to finish his dinner. He wasn’t far off being a young child—I’d found out he was just sixteen. “Now that I’ve kicked the drugs,” he said, “I’m going to study to become a chef. I wanted to do that before my mum died. I’ve given my dad hell over the last two years. But I’m going to do things right, now.”
“Yay, Thomas.” Yolanda clapped her hands together.
Louelle toyed with a spoon, spinning it back and forth. “Good on you, Tom. What I’m going to do is ride back to my town with my head held high, all guns blazing. There’s been a heap of whispers and gossip about me over the past fifteen years or so. But my husband and kids have stuck by me, and I owe it to them to be a wife and mom they can be proud of. I lost my job a year ago—but I plan on getting that back now.”
“Here! Here!” Cormack raised his glass of orange juice.
“What about you, Evie?” asked Louelle, dipping bread into her soup. “What are Evie’s plans once she ditches this place?”
I breathed in deeply, feeling the air grow heavy in my lungs. “First thing I’m going to do is to go and stay at the beach for a few days with my husband and kids. Just that. Doesn’t matter that it’s winter back home. Then I’m going to tell him everything. If at the end of it, he hasn’t served me with divorce papers, we’ll buy a little house.” None of it sounded real as it left my lips.
“Sounds like a perfect plan,” mused Louelle. “I’m lucky my husband didn’t divorce me. And that my kids still talk to me. I was a librarian. Fell off a stepladder putting a stack of books away and did damage to my hip bones. From that moment, I became addicted to painkillers. I’d feel so high and on top of the world, I’d even drive around town like I was on some kind of racetrack. Thank God, my kids are teenagers, and they’d grab the wheel from me. I started drinking, too, when the doctor started restricting the mount of painkillers I could have. I embarrassed my family constantly, and the days just slipped past me. That’s not gonna happen anymore. It’s all too precious. I didn’t grow up in a happy family, but I’m going to make damned sure that my own family is a happy one.” She nodded firmly. “Okay, who’s next? Spill.”
“Well, I’ll be moving on out of that Las Vegas drain,” said Richard in his American drawl. “Maybe I’ll get out of Las Vegas altogether. Too much temptation. Don’t know where I’ll go. But I’ve got a few business ideas. Watch this space, people. Ah, look at Cormack mooning about Kara, like a puppy that got left behind. You have to let that one go, son.”
Cormack lifted his chin. “Lots of lasses back where I’m from.”
“Yes, but you’ve got your mind stuck on one particular lass,” Richard pressed.
“Okay,” Cormack admitted. “There’s something about her I can’t stop thinking about. I’m going to convince her to give me a shot if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Your bucket list is looking a bit sad, my friend,” Richard joked.
“I’m nothing if not passionate. We Scots are a wild bunch. Whatever I go after, I’m all in,” said Cormack. “Maybe we should all meet up again somewhere in six months and see how we’re all doing. And we’ll reminisce about the old days. At the monastery.”
Louelle grimaced. “No thanks. If it’s all the same, I don’t want to remember this place. My grandmother used to say that buildings took on the minds of the people who lived in them. And this place gives me the shudders.”
I took in my surroundings again—the murky tones, angled walls, metronomes and strangeness, and I could see what she meant.
Gazing down at the table, I ran my fingertips over the Warcraft bracelet—my link back to Gray.
Outside the arched windows, the rain was like a second skin over the monastery, maybe not drowning us but slowly and surely sealing us in.
Just one more day.
51. GRAY
I STUDIED THE SCENE OUTSIDE THE Acropolis Museum, using a pair of binoculars I’d bought. One minute, it seemed like crazy overkill to be taking precautions like this. But the next minute it hit home that I was a criminal who had won himself the attention of Interpol.
Early today, I’d paid a couple of truck drivers to take me from France to this country. If they recognised me from a news story, I hoped the money would keep them quiet.
Constance was standing alone, wearing white.
I focused on the people around her. Was anyone watching her? Was anyone alone and loitering?
She walked a short distance then stopped, looking nervous. I scanned the crowd, trying to spot anyone who was specifically turning to keep an eye on her. If anyone was watching her, they were doing a good job of hiding it. Unless they had better binoculars than me.
Putting the binoculars away, I cut through the crowd, ready to run if anyone besides Constance moved towards me.
I walked up on her blind side.
Constance startled when she caught sight of me. As soon as she recognised me, she grabbed me in a hug then shrank back quickly. “I’m sorry, that was probably wrong of me. I’m just so glad to see you.”
“Good to see you, too.”
Her face brightened in relief. “You look different. If I didn’t see your face close up, I wouldn’t have known it was you. Gosh. Here we are. Greece. Crazy, right?”
“Yeah, crazy. I passed the Acropolis on the taxi ride here. It just popped up out of nowhere.”
“I hope you can come back here with your lovely little family one day. Under better circumstances.”
“I didn’t hurt my wife.” The words slipped out unintentionally. The mention of my family released something deep inside. I guessed I needed to speak the words out loud. I loved Evie and the girls. But right now, almost no one knew that but me.
“I know you didn’t hurt her,” she said.
I turned away for a brief moment, trying to cancel everything out—all the noise inside my head and around me. “Constance, I want you to tell me everything your P.I. told you and anything else you know. So that we’re both on the same page. And I’ll tell you what I know.”
She eyed me in surprise, but she nodded. “Let’s go for a walk. And I’ll explain what’s been happening.”
She went over everything in detail. About meeting Rosemary in a café and how she died and their phone conversations. She told me about the bracelet again.
Evie was here. Within reach. I just had to find her.
Constance’s voice turned brittle. “I’ve been trying to do as Rosemary would do. And doing a terrible job at it. I need to get better at it, because my daughter needs me to be. I did manage to follow Wilson Carlisle for a night.”
I whistled, not expecting that. “How did that go?”
“Nerve-wracking, that’s how it went. He . . . mentioned Kara.”
“Hell.”
She sucked her top lip in, nodding and squeezing her eyes shut. “Yep. That was so hard to hear. They’ve definitely got her.”
“And Evie? Did he talk about her?”
“No . . . but he did say they should have made sure the knife and things were found sooner by the police.”
My knees suddenly sagged. I knew they’d done the setup, but to hear it was something else. “You heard him say that?”
“Clearly.”
I shook my head, wondering if Evie and Kara even realised what kind of people they were with. It seemed that they’d gone willingly, although I couldn’t be sure of that. It didn’t always take a weapon to force someone to do something.
“Wait,” I said. “Is that the exact moment you decided it wasn’t me who buried that stuff?” I met her eyes.
Her shoulders hunched a little, and her gaze dropped. “I’m sorry. Yes. Please don’t think bad things of me. This whole thing is just too much to grasp.”
“I know. I get it.”
“And now, we’re in Greece. Greece.” She threw up her hands in confusion. “Wh
ere do we start?”
“Wish I knew. Where are you staying?”
“The Electra Palace. It’s where James and I have stayed before.”
“Starting from now, Constance, you’re going to stop being predictable. So, your suitcase is there in your room?”
“Yes. I had it taken there to my room straight from the airport.”
“Great. Leave it there. Don’t go back there at all.”
“But all my things—”
“You can buy more things.”
She sighed, her eyes anxious. “You’re right. Someone somewhere knows that I booked that hotel and they’re thinking they can keep an eye on me there.”
I nodded, sucking in a breath. “Does anyone know you’re here? Friends? Family?”
“No, no one yet. Not even James. I just decided to do this after hearing Wilson’s conversation.”
“Keep it that way. Don’t tell anyone.” I didn’t sound like myself. But I didn’t know how else to be right now. “Hey, I’ve got some things to show you. That group—Yeqon’s Saviours—I found out a little about them.”
Her eyes enlarged. “What did you find out?”
“I found some photographs and a weird symbol. Let’s go someplace where no one’s going to look over our shoulders.”
We stepped across to a low wall that had a drop behind it and sat while I drew out the photocopies. “This is them. The Saviours. At some kind of meeting.” I told her what I’d learned about them.
“They’re not traffickers . . .” Her voice fell away in hushed confusion. “What are they? And what do they want with my daughter and your wife?”
“We need to find out what their game is. I’m hoping this gives us a clue.” I showed her the close-up of the ladder symbol. “Maybe I need to see a priest to tell me what this symbol means.”
“I’m not sure that a priest could help you.” She sucked in her lips, studying the images. “They might be able to tell you what it’s not, but not what it is. If you know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I know. I had the same thought. What if the priest has studied religious history—maybe we can find someone like that?”
“That gives me an idea. Rosemary sourced her information about the Saviours from a pair of Greek history professors. They’re apparently a married couple, here in Athens.”
Stashing my photocopies back in my bag, I jumped from the wall. “Let’s go.”
52. CONSTANCE
I TOOK OUT MY TABLET TO look up the history professors.
Gray eyed me in alarm, taking the tablet from my hands. “No. From now on, no using your internet. The police or whoever else can track you through that if they want.”
“But how are we to get anywhere from here?”
“We either do it old school or use an internet café.”
“Old school? Okay, well, maybe they might be able to give us some information here. It’s an ancient history museum, after all.”
“Good idea.”
I left Gray to wipe my browsing history from the tablet while I headed back into the museum. The strange mix of the cool modern interior and ancient artifacts closed around me again. I inquired at the information desk about a married pair of history professors here in Athens. The girl at the desk didn’t know, but she asked a couple of others who did know of such a couple. An older lady wrote down two names on the back of a museum brochure. Rico and Petrina Vasiliou. They were professors of ancient Greek history, and they lived in an apartment block near the National & Kapodistrian University in Athens, not too far from the Acropolis Museum.
When I returned to Gray, he stopped me from calling them on my private phone, insisting that we should use a public phone. His eyebrows pinched together, his eyes wary in the shadow beneath his cap. “You don’t know who alerted the Saviours about Rosemary, right? It could have been the professors.”
“God . . .” I didn’t trust myself to speak for a moment. It really could have been them. “But if they’re connected to the Saviours, why would they have given Rosemary any information at all?”
He nodded. “Makes sense. I just can’t figure out how all the moving parts fit together, you know? How did the killer find out about Rosemary?”
“It must have been something she was researching that tipped him off. We have to be careful, Gray. I didn’t tell anyone about her. Not even my husband, because I knew he’d worry.”
We located a pay phone, and I tried calling the number we’d been given.
Petrina Vasiliou answered. I told her we were from an international historical society, here researching Greek monasteries. She replied to say that it wasn’t her area and tried to shuffle me off with a couple of numbers of other professors of history. In desperation, I almost mentioned Rosemary’s name. First, I tried telling her about the symbol we’d come across, describing it in detail and saying that we were interested in sourcing its origin.
Her interest seemed immediately piqued, though she also sounded hesitant. She invited us to come over after her husband, Rico, arrived home from work.
Holding back a sigh of relief, I looked across at Gray and nodded.
THE SIXTH CHALLENGE
53. EVIE
I WOKE WITH SKIN LIKE A fish, cold and wet. I’d been sweating, dreaming that everyone here was somehow gone and I was the last person. The monastery had sealed itself, and there was no way out, as if the windows and doors were its eyes and mouths and it had shut them all tight. I was trapped inside an insane mind.
Breathing steadily, I reoriented myself.
I had to calm myself. Exist in the moment and close everything else out. Focus on the prize.
If learning the ability to focus under intense pressure was what the mentors had intended, then it was working. There had never been a time in my life when my surrounds had seemed so alien, my dreams so harsh, and days when I’d had to fight so hard not to pack it all in and run.
Yolanda, Louelle and Mei slept in their beds near me in the dormitory. Outside the high window, rain still surged through the inky night.
Evie, you’re okay. No matter which way it goes, it’s okay.
Still, panic shot into my chest and throat, making my breaths shallow.
Why did I feel so much like a prisoner going to the gallows? Maybe it was because each challenge just felt so enormous to me that I might as well be facing hurdles a hundred feet tall. If I was meant to be feeling like a winner by now, then the program had failed. Maybe in retrospect, when we were sailing away from here, I’d finally feel healed. Things always looked different in retrospect, as though you’d suddenly been given a new set of lenses to view them through.
I thought of Gray and the girls and knew that I already saw my life with them differently.
When the bells rang, the tiny screen on my wristband remained dark. The other women left the room one by one as their wristbands flashed, the rest of us chiming good luck. Until there was only me left in the room.
Almost a complete hour ticked past in the empty room.
Finally, my wristband flashed number four. I was in the last of the four teams.
Richard stood outside, his pucker of forehead muscles belying the wink in his eye. “Ah, so my final partner in crime is Evie. Makes sense it would be you.”
“Let’s smash this.” My voice echoed hollowly down the hall.
We ran, for what would be the last time, out to the garden to meet the mentors.
“You’ve made it this far. You hardly need any words of encouragement,” Brother Sage told us. “Just do what makes sense to you, as you have in every other challenge.”
The mentors guided us to the sixth challenge room.
We stepped into almost total darkness, the blinking red bulb below the challenge clock the only point of light in the room.
The door closed behind us.
Nothing. No sounds, no smell, nothing being shown to us.
“Ah, guys . . . mentors . . . I don’t think your lights are working,” Richard joked.
“
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” I breathed. “Show us what you’ve got.”
“Not funny.” Richard walked a short distance, exhaling loudly.
I turned. A light had sprung to life, but only the light of a candle.
The man who held the candle began walking in a small circle around a hexagonal box in the centre of the room. He wore the loose garb of the monks, and his feet were bare.
Okay, there’s the box. Same as always.
What else was in this room? My memory of the fourth challenge sharpened. I wanted to step across the room, but I hesitated.
Richard strode forward and made it to the middle of the room unscathed. Emboldened, I followed him.
The box seemed solid, with no markings or symbols. We carried out our usual tests on it—knocking, listening, trying to twist it or move it somehow.
The monk continued to walk in a circle, on the outside of us.
“Hey you.” Richard stepped in front of him. “What are we supposed to do here?”
The monk stopped, but that was all. He gazed at Richard with vacant eyes. When Richard moved, the monk resumed his circular walk.
“We’d better search the room,” Richard muttered. “Meet you back here.”
I nodded, breath catching and holding like a fist in my stomach. What if there were more monks just standing there in the pitch darkness of this huge room? “We’ll zigzag back and forward from here to the wall. If you find anything, call out and stay there. I’ll find you.”
“Yeah.” Richard disappeared from view.
I began my search, to and fro, moving a little to the right each time. “Anything?” I called, not so much expecting that he had but just wanting to hear his voice.
The silence before Richard answered seemed an age. “Nope. Nothing here.”
Richard and I met up again, panting.
I looked back over my shoulder at the clock. We’d wasted four precious minutes.
Shooting an anxious glance at Richard, I moved into the monk’s path. “Give us a clue.”