by C. L. Wells
Silas put the divorce papers down on the kitchen table and poured himself a tall glass of scotch. All of this could have been fixed with money, he told himself. He thought back to when it had all really started to go downhill several years ago, and fixated on the Bartonovich affair as the starting point. The online gambling site must have been rigged, he told himself. How else could the site have won so much money back from him in so little time? That led to the debt that caused him to decide to take the job from Bartonovich in the first place. Since it was Bartonovich’s site, Silas reasoned in his inebriated stupor, it was his fault that Silas’ marriage had fallen apart. That was the last coherent thought he had before he passed out on the couch.
While he was asleep, he had a dream about the bank in the Caymans where Nick Bartonovich had taken J.T. Thornbacker. In the dream, he saw large bundles of cash fall out of the duffle bag that Nick was carrying out of the bank. He simply walked away without picking the bundles up. Silas ran up and began picking up the cash, stuffing it into his pockets and into his shirt until he couldn’t carry anymore.
He had the hangover from hell when he woke up the next morning. He drank two glasses of water, showered, and made himself some strong coffee with two slices of toast on the side. He sat at the breakfast table eating the toast, drinking coffee, and staring at the divorce papers. By the time he had finished his toast and coffee, he had convinced himself of two things. Firstly, if he had enough money, Maggie would take him back and he would have his family again. Secondly, if his money problems had gotten drastically worse because of Nick Bartonovich, then Nick Bartonovich could make those same financial difficulties go away for good.
Silas started spending every spare moment he could researching Nick’s businesses and watching his house. He determined he would learn everything he could about the man, find his weakness, and exploit that weakness to score a big pile of cash for himself.
One afternoon as he was watching Nick’s house, he saw the girl leave with Mia in a car. He had determined her name was Sasha some weeks before by going through the Bartonovich’s discarded trash. He followed the car as inconspicuously as he was able. They left the city and made their way over to Newark, New Jersey. Their first stop was at a florist, where they came out with a bouquet of flowers. From here, they proceeded to Fairmount Cemetery.
Silas pulled into the cemetery behind them, far enough back so as not to be noticed. He followed them until he was forced to turn down one of the side roads to prevent being discovered tailing them. He quickly exited his vehicle, grabbing his binoculars and finding a spot where he could see their car fairly well.
The car stopped. Mia and the girl got out of the car with the flowers and went over to a grave stone. He couldn’t make out the name on the grave stone, but the girl appeared to be crying. They stayed a few minutes, the girl put flowers on the grave, and then they got back in the car. Silas pretended to be visiting a nearby grave when they drove by the road where he was positioned. Once they had left the cemetery, Silas got back in his car and drove down to where the girl had put flowers on the grave. It didn’t take him long to locate the grave with the particular bouquet he had seen them place. He took out his phone and took a picture of the grave stone before getting back in his car and heading home.
This was something significant. Sasha was the key to Nick Bartonovich’s money – he was sure of that. This graveside visit just might be the leverage he needed to turn the key. He didn’t know who Katrina Byers was or how she was related to Sasha, but he would find out soon enough. And once he knew, he would be able to exploit that information to achieve his goal. He slept well that night and had the same recurring dream. In the dream, Nick Bartonovich was dropping bundles of cash for him to collect.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It was a beautiful day for sailing. J.T., Laura, and James had taken the sailboat out in the morning. They had been out for around two hours and were about to stop and drop anchor for lunch.
Since starting their new lives in the Cayman Islands, J.T. had developed a passion for sailing. About a year before, he had purchased this thirty-two foot Hunter 326 sailboat. It had one mast with two sails in the classic Bermuda rig style. There were two couches in the main cabin, with a table in the middle, two sleeping areas which were each behind their own bulkhead, a lavatory, and an open galley.
James went below and was beginning to get the meal ready. He had developed into quite an amateur chef and had prepared one of his latest dishes for them to try. Today it was going to be jalapeño Tilapia served over angel-hair pasta with grated Parmesan cheese, accompanied by a white wine.
J.T. was at the wheel and was about to lower the sails and come to a stop. Laura had just come up from the hold after retrieving some sunscreen. She put her sunglasses down on a small seat located at the stern of the boat just behind the wheelhouse. The seat was built into the railing, with the second rail curved out and around the seat to provide back support.
She was just about to put sunscreen on her face when the movement of the boat caused her glasses to slide off of the seat and onto the ledge below, just past the railing at the back of the boat. She put the sunscreen in the cup holder next to the seat and grabbed the railing, stepping over the side of the boat and onto the ledge. As she was reaching for her glasses the boat hit a wave and lurched to the side, causing Laura to lose her balance. She fell forward, hitting her head on the side of the boat before falling into the water.
“Wow, did you see that wave we just hit?” J.T. said as he turned around to where he thought Laura was sitting. He saw her orange PFD in the water about twenty yards behind the boat, where she was floating face down. He immediately began turning the boat around, heading back in her direction.
“James! Get up here! Laura fell off the boat!” J.T. yelled.
James came rushing up from the galley. “Where is she?!”
By this time, J.T. had succeeded in turning the boat around and was headed straight towards where Laura was floating, still face down in the water.
“Right there!” J.T. exclaimed as he pointed to where she was. “I think she hit her head and got knocked out. I’ll pull up alongside and you jump in to get her.”
When the boat was close enough, James jumped in and swam over to Laura, immediately flipping her over so that her head was no longer face-down in the water. He began swimming with Laura in tow back to the boat.
“Hang on, Laura! Hang on!” he exclaimed.
J.T. turned the boat back around once more after passing by Laura, dropped the sails, and engaged the motor so that he could come up slowly on his friends. When he got close enough, he tossed out a life preserver. James grabbed on with one arm and held Laura with the other as J.T. hauled them in.
Once they had Laura on the deck, J.T. could see that Laura’s lips were blue, indicating she wasn’t breathing. He immediately removed her life vest and began performing CPR. After about thirty seconds of CPR, Laura vomited. J.T. rolled her onto her side so that the vomit wouldn’t go down her windpipe. Laura began coughing and spitting, gasping for air.
“James, go get a blanket,” J.T. ordered.
James came back with a blanket and wrapped it around Laura. After a few minutes, Laura’s lips started turning pink again.
“Are you o.k.?” James asked.
“Give her a minute, James,” J.T. said. “Don’t you worry about talking right now, Laura, just focus on breathing.” Turning to James, he continued, “It takes some time to get your breath back after something like that. I know, I almost drowned as a kid. Took me about an hour before I could speak.”
After they took Laura below, J.T. told James to watch her and make sure she didn’t go to sleep. He was concerned that she might have a concussion, and felt that they needed to have her checked out at the hospital to make certain it wasn’t too serious.
J.T. turned the boat around and set sail back to the marina. He called ahead so that an ambulance was there waiting on them by the time they returned. The do
ctor in the ER gave Laura some oxygen and checked her over. Eventually, he diagnosed her with a concussion and sent her home with James and J.T., giving them a print-out on what symptoms to look for at home. He told Laura that she needed to gets lots of rest and take it easy over the next few days. She was to let him know if any of the symptoms listed on the sheet he gave her persisted or got worse.
J.T. suggested that they all stay at his house for the next day or so. That way, he said, he and James could take turns keeping an eye on Laura’s condition. Laura protested a bit, but in the end, she was too exhausted to give them much resistance and she capitulated.
A few weeks after the boating incident, they were all eating over at J.T.’s house, and Laura brought in two presents from the car. She gave one to J.T. and one to James. They looked at her with questioning looks until she said, “Well, go on. Open them up.”
J.T. unwrapped his first. It was a beautiful stained glass piece of a sailboat on the water. Laura had included a note inside the box. J.T. opened the note and read it to himself. “Thanks for saving my life,” it read. James opened his and found a similar note. His stained glass scene depicted a boy riding a bike down the beach.
J.T. went over to Laura and gave her a big hug.
“I’m just glad you are o.k. Thanks for the gift.”
“Yeah,” James added, “thanks. That was pretty scary. Next time, you stay inside the railing, young lady,” he said in mock sternness, wagging his finger at Laura as he spoke.
“Yes, sir!” Laura said with a mock salute.
Laura’s near-drowning had been concerning on more than one level. The x-ray that had been performed on Laura in the ER had revealed the implant which had been installed for monitoring the prisoners while they were at Utopia. The doctor started asking questions about it. Laura had told him that it was a private medical issue, and that she didn’t want to discuss it. After a few more prodding questions, the doctor finally let it drop.
They were all concerned that if they didn’t get the devices removed, it might lead to their true identities being revealed and land them back in prison. They began discreetly searching for a good hospital somewhere other than the Cayman Islands where they could have the devices removed. The Caymans were too close to home and too many questions would be asked. It had to be somewhere else.
They finally located a good hospital in Costa Rica. Research had revealed that Costa Rica had some of the finest medical care in all of South America. The whole procedure would cost them each ten thousand dollars, plus the cost of the charter plane split three ways. They flew into San Jose on a Friday afternoon, spent the night in a hotel, and then had all three of their devices removed on the following day at a local clinic – no questions asked. One more day in town to monitor for any signs of infection, and it was back to George Town on Sunday.
All in all, life had been good for the three of them during these past eleven years since they had been kidnapped from Utopia. Not only had they escaped re-capture, but they had been able to build new and fulfilling lives in Grand Cayman and become good friends all around. They had no idea that their world was about to be turned upside down once more.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sasha’s eighteenth birthday party had been a huge success. The party started out with a trip to the Trapeze School of New York, where Sasha and a group of her friends tried out swinging from the trapeze. Next, it was back to the Bartonovich’s brownstone for a catered birthday lunch, complete with three-tiered birthday cake, presents, music, dancing – the whole nine yards. Lastly, they finished it off with a movie.
The following morning before breakfast, Nick and Mia asked Sasha to come into the library so that they could give her one last birthday present. They sat down around the coffee table and Nick placed a manila envelope on the table that had Sasha’s name on it. Sasha was still on a party-high from the events of the day before and she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Thank you again for the party yesterday, Nick and Mia. It was the best birthday party ever.”
Although it had been years since they had officially adopted her, she still preferred to call them by their first names. Mia could understand completely. No one could replace Sasha’s mother, nor did she want to. She was just glad to be a part of Sasha’s life.
“Sasha,” Nick began, “I’m very glad you had a good day. We have one more present to give you, but it’s not what you might expect. I have some very good news for you, but it also might be very difficult news.”
Sasha looked from Mia to Nick and back, a quizzical expression on her face. “O.k., what is it?” she asked.
“When we adopted you, there were certain facts about your life that we didn’t feel you needed to know at the time,” Nick continued. “Mia and I talked about it and decided that you needed time to grieve and adjust to your new life before we told you. Due to other circumstances that will hopefully be clear in a few minutes, we decided it would be best to wait until you turned eighteen to tell you those details.”
Sasha had moved to the edge of her seat with curiosity, wondering what was about to be revealed.
“Sasha, your biological father is still alive.” Nick paused to let Sasha process what he had just said, knowing that her entire world would shift with the words he had just spoken.
“That can’t be possible,” a confused Sasha replied, “my father died in a car crash in Canada when I was a baby.”
“Sasha,” Nick continued, “I know this is hard to accept, but your mother didn’t tell you the truth about your father.”
“So you’re saying Mom lied to me about my father’s death? Why would she do that?” Sasha said, visibly upset.
“Look, I know this is a lot to process, but your mother had a very good reason for not telling you the truth about your father. Your father is a man named J.T. Thornbacker. When you were born, he had just been sent to prison for twenty-five years. He didn’t even know your mother was pregnant with you. In fact, he doesn’t even know you exist at this moment.”
“I’m sure your mother just did it to protect you,” Mia added, touching Sasha’s hand gently as she spoke.
“Why did you guys wait so long to tell me?” Sasha asked, looking hurt.
Nick and Mia looked at each other.
“Your father is currently on the FBI’s wanted list. He escaped from prison nine years ago,” Mia answered.
Sasha’s eyes widened and her mouth came open with a look of surprise.
“What?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in. Everything you need to know is in this envelope,” Nick said, tapping the envelope on the coffee table with his finger. “Once you have had a chance to look over it, ask me anything you like.”
“So no one knows where he is?” Sasha asked, picking up the folder and placing it in her lap.
“We know where he is, Sasha,” Mia said.
Sasha looked at Mia with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment.
“He is living under an assumed name in another country,” Nick went on. “We can arrange for you to meet him, but there are some complications. Because he is a wanted man, if the FBI finds out about him, he will go back to jail for the rest of his life.”
Sasha stood up, clutching the manila envelope in both hands. She began backing away from Nick and Mia. She was upset, her brain not sure which question to ask first. Should she be mad at Nick and Mia, or her mom, or at anyone? She didn’t know. Her thoughts were a jumble of emotion-filled firecrackers.
“I need some time to think,” she said as she turned and practically ran out of the library and up the flight of stairs to her room. Nick and Mia heard the door slam.
Sasha sat down on her bed. She opened up the manila envelope and poured out the contents onto her bed. Her eye was caught by an 8 ½ by 11 inch photograph of J.T. Thornbacker. He was smiling as he faced the camera, and dressed in a three-piece suit. She went over to her mirror and held the picture beside her face as she peered into the mirror so she could see her image si
de by side with her father’s. The resemblance was undeniable. She wondered when the picture had been taken.
There were various articles in the pile on her bed. One was about J.T. being appointed CEO of some company. Most of the others were about his arrest and trial for embezzling funds and various other illegal business practices. She read them all, devouring them for information about who her father was and what he was like. The last article was about J.T. Thornbacker’s amazing escape from prison, along with two other prisoners. It detailed how the hideout that they had fled to after leaving prison had been discovered, and that all indications pointed to their plan to flee to Europe and live under false identities. She wondered how Nick and Mia had found him after all these years.
Before today, she had believed her father’s name was Steven Byers, and that he’d been a school teacher who had died in a car crash in Canada. Today, she had learned that she had been lied to by both her mother and her adoptive parents about one of the biggest facts in her life. It was unsettling. The more she thought about it, the madder she became.
She needed someone she could talk to, someone she could trust. She called her best friend Marty to see if she could come over and talk.
“Hi Sasha,” Marty answered.
“Hi Marty. Can I come over? I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I can’t talk about it on the phone and there’s something I need to show you first.”
“O.k. When do you want to come over?”
“I have to wait until the coast is clear. Maybe in about an hour?”
“No problem. Just text me when you leave to come over, o.k.?”
“O.k. See you soon.”
She was taking a risk in talking to Marty about her real father. But she needed someone she could trust to listen to her. Right now, she was having some definite trust issues with Nick and Mia. Marty had been her best friend since grade school. She had been Sasha’s confidant when her mom had died. If she couldn’t trust Marty, then she couldn’t trust anyone.