by Skylar Cross
But nothing worked.
Until one night.
I don't know what it was. You had been in there maybe two months and like a curtain going up you came to life.
You laughed. You talked. You spoke English, so you did know it. You colored in the coloring books. You played games.
And you laughed.
I was so happy!
But what tore me apart was that whenever your mother left, you went back into the trance. You just stared.
She was the only one who could bring you out of it. I don't know if it was because she was young, or because she was Asian like you, or what.
But I couldn't get you to smile. And it hurt. It really hurt.
She would come in and you turned on like a faucet. She had the magic touch, I don't know.
So I swallowed my pride. I wanted you to start kindergarten and grow up in a normal household. Your mother had a nice family.
Jacques had put out some inquiries to find your parents, but nothing ever came back. It seemed hopeless that we would ever find out where you came from.
So Jacques and I did one of our little deals where some people got some money in an envelope. And just like that, you had a birth certificate.
Your mother wanted to keep your name Kiri, but Jacques insisted that they put a completely fake name on it. He didn't want the boy to ever be able to find you. Jacques really hated that boy.
And so you were adopted by the woman you know as your mother. And you lived a happy normal childhood growing up in Queens.
I came by a few times, but when I did you went right back into the trance. Just stared.
So I stayed away. I sent money. I helped pay for your college, but you never knew.
Your mother wanted to send me pictures on this foolish computer thing, but I said no. I can't get the damned device to work anyway, and on top of that... I just wanted to remember you the way you were.
But now here you are, a fully grown woman. My oh my!
Chapter 6
"I'm so sorry," I said, my eyes swollen with tears. "I don't know why I just stared when you came by. I truly didn't remember you at all until yesterday. All of this is terribly new to me."
"Come here," said Mrs. Decoud.
I moved closer and she wrapped her arms around me. I held her tight and cried some more.
"Thank you," I said between sobs. "Thank you for saving my life. And thank you for bringing me to the family I love. If it weren't for you, I never would have known them. I just wish I had known you. You are such a good person."
"Not that good, honey. I've done a lot of shit that's going to get a chuckle from St. Peter at the gate as he tears up my application and points to the Down Express elevator. But if there's one thing that I'm truly proud of in my life, it's you. I don't really know you at all, but I love you my child. And I'm so happy that you came by to see me. I think I've actually been waiting for you without really knowing it."
Saquina returned, having likely stayed away to allow us the time to get caught up.
Eventually, we ended our embrace to have some tea and cookies. We talked for a while longer.
She told me some more stories from her life. She was born in Paris, but moved to Manhattan as a girl. She lived in Hollywood for a while. She had a bit part in the 1951 movie Quo Vadis starring Robert Taylor and Deborah Kerr. She was married twice. Her first husband, a clothing magnate who ran for the Senate twice but lost both times, died and left her with a fortune. She survived an airplane crash in which two hundred people died in 1965. The love of her life was another "scallywag" named Henri, with whom she had a whirlwind year-long affair, then he vanished forever. She married Jacques when she was 42. She loved him, but not like the scallywag.
Before I left, we hugged again. I promised I would come back and visit, but I think somehow we both knew that we would never see each other again.
Outside, the sky had darkened and the air was thick with moisture and pollen. Scattered drops of light spring rain fell.
I crossed the street and went into the Park, falling into a walking daze. The threatening sky didn't seem to deter the spring tourists. There were people everywhere.
Wow, Mrs. Decoud really hated Caden! And so did Mr. Decoud. They didn't trust him at all.
Which makes me question my own judgment. Why do I feel like he's part of me? Like he's misunderstood?
I know why.
Because we all romanticize and idealize people for whom we feel attraction. We block out the bad, only allowing ourselves to see the good.
And if there's a lot of bad, we rationalize it away. We even convince ourselves that we can "change" the other person. But that never works.
No, Caden is not a criminal! Think about it, Kiri. How could he become a successful billionaire with an upstanding reputation by being a thief, a bank robber nonetheless?
Seriously, think about it. Could Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg get away with robbing banks? Why would they even want to rob banks with all the money they have?
An old movie about a billionaire who robs banks for sport popped into my head. He's pursued by a beautiful woman who works for an insurance company. Shit, what was that movie called?
Kiri, where the fuck are you going?
I suddenly realized I was walking directly toward the Plaza Hotel. I hadn't consciously decided to head there, but I saw its outline through the trees as I approached the pond.
Is my subconscious leading me back to Caden? Do I trust him after all? He did save my life, I know that.
But what was I doing on the boat that sank? Why was Caden in a dinghy?
I stopped and sat on a bench. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the sound of the sparse raindrops that couldn't seem to get going.
Then I remembered my mom and my eyes flashed open.
I called her.
"Kiri!" she said when she answered. "What have you gotten yourself into? The police were here looking for you."
"I know, mom," I said. "What did you tell them?"
"I lied and said I haven't seen you. They didn't say what it was about. Kiri, what's going on?"
"The bank was robbed, Mom."
"Robbed?"
I took a deep breath. A couple in bright colored baseball caps wearing lots of plaid with cameras around their necks walked past my bench.
"Yes, and the man I'm with... I think he may have had something to do with it."
"Kiri, you must come home right now and tell the police everything!"
Across the nearby field, I saw a Japanese couple in tuxedo and bridal dress surrounded by a wedding party. They posed for pictures under the New York City skyline.
"I will, Mom," I said, "I will."
A tall man in a black jacket approached the pond from the other side. I gasped. I'd know that figure anywhere.
Caden Storm.
"Mom, I gotta go," I said. "I'll talk to you later."
As I clicked off, the heavens opened up. What had been a smattering of rain became a full-blown downpour. The tourists ran. The wedding party ran.
But I stayed on the bench.
And Caden Storm kept walking toward me.
Propelled by an unknown force, I rose and began walking toward him.
Even in the falling rain, with his black hair wet and matted down, Caden Storm was the most spectacular human being I ever saw. Again, I couldn't avert my eyes.
And again, I felt the bond. I didn't care what Mrs. Decoud said or believed. I know this man. I know his soul. I'm not sure how, but in that moment in the rain in Central Park I made a decision.
I'm going to trust Caden Storm.
It may be my undoing. It may be the end of me. But I know it's right. Nobody can sway me.
The closer we got to each other, the harder the rain fell. The water on the pond jumped into the air.
Soon we were together. I felt his arms embrace me. I buried my head into his carved chest under a soaked shirt.
Strange, all morning I felt like I was in
danger. Like evil was around every corner.
But now, in this man's arms, I felt safe. Safer than I've ever felt.
We said nothing. I didn't ask how he found me. Probably that Forrester guy who's like a ghost. I bet he's around here somewhere. Whatever.
We just stayed like that for a while, the sky doing its best to annoy us. But we just ignored it, allowing our embrace to do all the talking for us.
Eventually, Caden put his arm around me and guided me out of the park and into a waiting limousine.
Chapter 7
We said nothing on the limo ride to the airport. I was too tired for words. My brain hurt and I just needed to be held.
Like he read my mind, Caden just stayed silent. Every once in a while, he stroked my hair and kissed my forehead.
There was no need to speak. We communicated by touch. At LaGuardia, he led me out of the car, through another hidden-from-the-public security screening, and onto his plane.
We resumed the silent holding on the short plane ride, then again on the longer limo ride in Boston rush hour traffic. It was six in the evening when I found myself back in the Bay Towers penthouse suite that I had first stepped into just yesterday.
Could that possibly have been yesterday? It feels like weeks ago.
"The FBI needs to speak with you," said Caden, breaking the silence. "I already talked to them and said I would call them when I found you. But if you'd like, I'll tell them that they can wait until the morning."
"Morning," I said.
It was an effort just to say the word. I couldn't handle much more today.
"Good," he said. "I think you need a good meal and some sleep. I'll whip something up after I shower."
"I want to shower too."
"You first then."
I found my way back to the spacious walk-in closet. I picked out a T-shirt and sweatpants, then went into the bathroom and showered.
When I emerged, Caden had been at it in the kitchen again. Tonight we dined at the inside dining room table as the rain that followed us from New York pounded down on the outside patio where he first fucked me.
Tonight we ate what Caden called Sake-Miso Braised Salmon with Stir-Fry Bok Choy. I get the feeling he's into seafood with an Asian twist, don't you?
Again, it was heavenly. Again, my head was pounding.
"Are you all right, Kiri?" he said.
"You know," I said, "I really wish everyone would stop asking me that. I'm fine. It's just been a rough couple of days."
"I understand. Let's go sit on the couch."
We moved up to the living area level and I ensconced myself in his arms again. The sound of the rain was soothing and helped my headache more than the Advil I took. Or maybe it was being this close to Caden. Whatever it was, the pain was receding.
After about a half-hour, I decided to say something.
"I met Mrs. Decoud today," I said.
"I know," he said.
"How did you know?"
"Forrester was outside the Plaza Hotel and saw you walk out. He followed you to Queens to your mother's and back again to Mrs. Decoud's."
"I didn't see him."
"I told you. He's very good at what he does."
"So was he reporting in to you the entire time?"
"Yes."
"So why didn't you come get me?"
"Because I knew you had to find answers on your own. I didn't want to stand in your way. Besides, you were protected. There is nobody better than Forrester. I feel bad for anyone who would have tried to hurt you while he was following you."
"And you didn't care that I was going to talk to Mrs. Decoud, who hates you?"
He kissed my forehead.
"No," he said. "She hates me for good reason."
I leaned back and looked him in the eyes.
"What good reason?" I said.
"I was a very bad person," he said. "She and her husband knew it. I couldn't charm them. They were too wise. I tried, but I was only eighteen. They had seen too much, heard too much."
"You said were a bad person. Does that mean you are no longer a bad person?"
"Well, I still have elements of my misguided youth, but I like to think of myself as a good person now. I built my company to help others. If my products and services didn't make money for others, then I wouldn't be a very good person."
"So you don't rob banks for fun in your spare time?"
He laughed.
"No, I leave that to Steve McQueen," he said.
That was the movie I couldn't think of earlier! The Thomas Crown Affair with Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway.
"So what is it exactly that you do?" I said.
"International investments," he said. "I deal in securities and financial trade."
"And you did that without scamming people?"
He turned and looked me directly in the eyes.
"Yes," he said. "But in the beginning, I used the skills I had learned as a boy to make the right connections. Once I was established, I didn't need my... how shall I say this?... con artist skills anymore."
"Con artist?"
He stood up, put his hand behind his head, and walked to the center of the room.
"Yes, Kiri," he said. "That's what I did as a boy. I was a professional con artist from about the time I was thirteen years old. Nobody suspected a boy who could play the dumb and innocent part as well as I could. I was quite good at it. Until..."
"Until what?"
I saw pain on his face. He was remembering something very bad.
"Until I spent two years in a French prison," he said.
I sat up.
"You were in prison?" I said.
"Yes," he said. "Most American boys are either in college or just getting into the workforce when they're eighteen years old. Partying, enjoying their youth. But from eighteen until twenty, I was in a French prison."
"For what?"
"For kidnapping a little girl named Kiri Huang. But I didn't kidnap her. I saved her from a sinking boat. I would have been in prison for much longer if the authorities hadn't lost Kiri. She just vanished from their custody, thanks to a man named Jacques Decoud. The funny thing is that my sentence of ten years was reduced thanks to the very same man."
Did Caden Storm really go to prison because of me?
"Mr. Decoud got you out?" I said.
"Yes," said Caden, "he came to the prison to identify me two years after the fact. He lied to the French authorities, telling them it wasn't me who he and his wife found at sea with the girl. So they set me free. Not to mention they lost you anyway. Outside the prison he told me that he and I were two of a kind. He too had done time in a French prison and he saw something in me that made him want to set things right. Then he vanished, leaving me to find my way."
"And did you return to being a con artist?"
"No, I had found another mission for my life while I was in prison. There, in the prison library, I found a book titled Death at Sea by Konrad Gregor. It spoke to me. You see, I was moved by my experience with the little girl I had saved. Some terrible things had happened and I carried a lot of guilt about my involvement with them. When I read the book, I identified with the heroic character Horace Willoughby. I decided that I needed to get back the gold that was stolen and return it to its rightful owner."
"Gold?"
"Yes, a lot of gold. So I used my considerable persuasion skills to build a business, a very profitable business. No education, no connections. But I was very resourceful. My IQ is off the charts. With a single-minded determination, I strived to win back the gold that had been stolen from the little girl Kiri's father so I could return it to her. And I did. Several times over, in fact. But I could never find Kiri Huang. Until I got a call from Sebastian and Valentina who told me that she works at QV Bank on Boylston Street right here in Boston."
I had a flash to the couple in the pictures that Agent Henderson showed me.
"Sebastian and Valentina?" I said.
"Yes," he said. "They were my...
mentors... and business partners... when I was a young con artist. I hadn't seen them in eighteen years when they came calling to tell me where you were. I must say, Jacques Decoud hid you well. Kiri, you don't remember Sebastian and Valentina yet, do you?"