Payback

by Jasmine Cresswell

  Avery turned pink, embarrassed but also pleased by Kate’s praise. “Anyway, back to Adam’s theory about what that file of Ron’s might mean. Apparently he and Megan have been trying to renew contact with Julio Castellano ever since the two of them got back from Belize. They haven’t succeeded, but they’ve talked to a lot of Belizeans in the process, including the owner of the platinum mine where they were taken captive. The mine owner told them that Julio and his sister are impossible to find because they’re deeply involved in a semisecret political movement that aims to create greater economic opportunities for the Mayan people. It’s allied with similar peasant liberation movements in Guatemala and the Zapatistas in Mexico. Julio is trying to raise social awareness among Mayans of all ages, and foster pride among Mayan teens in their cultural heritage and their ancient religion.”

  “Their gods and goddesses!” Kate exclaimed.

  Avery smiled. “Yes, you’re exactly right, their gods and goddesses. The ancient religious myths are very significant in Mayan culture, which is closely tied to agriculture and the land itself. Unfortunately, everything Julio Castellano wants to achieve is problematic for the Belizean government. The government considers him a tiresome fanatic who is wasting his time and talents trying to revive eighty-year-old theories about social justice and peasant liberation, all the while getting in the way of real progress.”

  Kate grimaced. “The Miami police will be happy to hear Julio is officially considered a troublemaker by his government, even if he isn’t a murderer. Still, he sounds kind of noble to me. Misguided, maybe, but noble.”

  “Adam said the same thing. He also says it would probably be more accurate to call Julio a political activist rather than a revolutionary.”

  “What’s the distinction?”

  “According to Adam, even Castellano’s enemies admit that he tries to work within the legitimate political structure. However, he and his followers are secretive about their activities, and one of the ways they hide what they’re doing from the government is to utilize a cell system for communications. They avoid telling one another their real names and they use the symbols of ancient Mayan gods and goddesses to identify themselves. Adam thinks the file you found on Ron’s flash drive, the one labeled RR22, is actually an accounting record of money that your father has sent to Castellano. It seems your father is actively supporting Julio Castellano’s efforts to establish agricultural communes and rural cooperatives.”

  “Adam’s explanation fits perfectly with everything we know,” Kate said. “Except for one problem. Can you imagine my father—the original Mr. Conservative—funneling money to a secretive rebel movement that wants social justice for an oppressed ethnic minority? Good grief, he’s about as likely to donate to the Save Fidel Castro fund or the Revive Communism in Europe committee.”

  “Six months ago I would have agreed with you.” Avery lifted her shoulders in a gesture too elegant to be termed a shrug. “Now I would simply remind you that we know nothing at all about the real Ron Raven. Maybe during the years we lived with him he preached right-wing, conservative politics but actually went into the booth at election time and voted socialist. We have no idea what really made him tick all those years, much less what he might feel right now. Or maybe he’s changed into a left-wing radical only since he became involved with Consuela Mackenzie. After all, she’s half Mayan and apparently passionate about her cultural heritage. Maybe her passion has rubbed off on Ron.”

  The image of her father as a left-winger was so bizarre that Kate had to laugh. “Don’t tell Uncle Paul about Castellano,” she said. “He’ll have a heart attack if he thinks someone associated with his family is helping to support peasant revolutionaries.”

  Her mother actually laughed out loud. “He would, wouldn’t he? It’s even worse than Ron being a bigamist. Don’t worry, I’ll spare my brother’s sensibilities.”

  “Poor old Uncle Paul, he’s such a stick-in-the-mud.”

  “He always has been, too. Adam and I never quite fit into the Fairfax family mold, but Paul would have been happy to travel back a hundred years in time and live as the owner of the Fairfax plantation.” Avery drew in a deep breath, as if seeking fortitude. “One final thing, Kate, and then I absolutely must go. It’s already later than I planned to be out and the rain makes driving nasty.”

  Avery cleared her throat, clearly not quite at ease as she would have liked to pretend. “I’m sure I mentioned to you that I spoke with Ellie Raven a few days ago.”

  “Yes, you wanted her to know we’d hired George Klein to investigate Dad’s disappearance.”

  “Isn’t it amazing to recall that it’s only three weeks since most of us still believed Ron was dead and Luke was imagining things?”

  “It’s astonishing,” Kate agreed. “I was furious with Luke for bothering you with his hallucinations.”

  “Thank goodness he did! Anyway, as I’ve mentioned, I’ve been keeping Adam updated as our investigation unfolded, and Megan has been passing our news along to her mother and brother, so their whole family has been kept in the picture. It’s a roundabout way of communicating, to put it mildly, but it did avoid a lot of phone calls that I felt Ellie Raven might find as difficult to handle as I do. However, Adam pointed out that now we’re certain Ron is alive, we…I…owed Ellie Raven the courtesy of telling her in advance what we’re planning to do. He even suggested we should ask Ellie if she wants to join us tomorrow in Virginia.”

  “I’d thought about that myself,” Kate said quietly. “I didn’t know how you would feel about her joining us, though.”

  “I’m fine with it.” Avery lifted her hands in a gesture of bafflement that still managed to appear graceful. “It’s only six months since your father staged his disappearing act, but it’s amazing how much can change in six months. When I first heard about Ellie, I was determined to hate her. In fact, it’s humiliating to recall how I instantly blamed her for everything, without a shred of evidence. But the more I’ve learned about Ron, the more I realize Ellie wasn’t a scheming villain, she was simply another of his victims. Now I’ve reached the point where I genuinely feel that if she wants to be with us in Virginia, why not? She seems a really nice woman. Anyway, I called her yesterday morning and she was very grateful for the call. She definitely plans to be there. In fact, she must already be en route. It takes a long time to get from Thatch, Wyoming, to Washington, D.C.”

  “Are you certain you can trust her not to reveal our plans to anyone?” Kate asked. “It would be a disaster if she blew it after all our efforts.”

  “I think she can be trusted with anything we care to tell her. Ellie strikes me as a very practical, down-to-earth sort of person and she’s got no interest in protecting Ron.”

  “You’re sure of that, Mom? She was married to him even longer than you were.”

  Avery put down her empty wineglass. “True, but Adam mentioned that Ellie has started divorce proceedings.”

  “Against Dad? Why would she want to do that? More to the point, how can she divorce him when everyone thinks he’s dead?”

  “Her lawyers are working on that problem. Remember Liam, her son, was a divorce lawyer, although he’s gone back to the practice of criminal law recently. I’m sure he’s offering her lots of good, practical advice.”

  “But why is Ellie going to so much trouble to achieve something so symbolic? A divorce makes no real difference to her legal status, does it?”

  “A big difference, since apparently she’d like to get married again. To the sheriff of Stark County, no less.”

  “No!” Kate was briefly shocked, and then realized how absurd it was to assume Ellie owed even a smidgen of loyalty to Ron Raven. “I hope she and the sheriff are very happy. She certainly deserves it after surviving all those years of deceit and betrayal.” She smiled at her mother. “How about you, Mom? Are you about to blindside me with the news that you’re preparing to become Mrs. Somebody or Other? I’m sure you’ve had dozens of proposals since Dad disappeared.
”

  “I’ve had a few,” Avery agreed. Then she chuckled. “And I think some of the men even hoped I would say yes after they discovered I have very little money.”

  “I’m sure all of them did. You’re spectacular wife material.”

  “Hmm, I’m not sure about that. But it’s beside the point, because there’s nobody I have the slightest desire to marry. At the moment, finding a life partner is way down on the list of things I’m eager to do.”

  “Maybe that’s just a reaction to what happened with Dad. Your attitude might change more quickly than you expect once we’ve found my father and forced him to acknowledge how badly he betrayed us.”

  “Could be, but somehow I don’t believe so. When I lived with Ron, my energy was entirely focused on being a good wife. When he disappeared, died as we thought, I was truly devastated. And yet, now I feel…liberated, there’s no other word for it. I’m having the most fun of my entire life getting my new business off the ground and doing things to suit myself, rather than to suit Ron. I’ve no interest in being one half of a couple again.”

  Kate was surprised at how confident her mother sounded in her newfound independence. “I never really thought about it before, but Dad being such a forceful personality cut both ways. Somebody larger than life can make a fascinating father for a kid, maybe, but it’s not so great for a spouse. Looking back, I can see how you were sometimes smothered by the sheer force of his personality.”

  “I was more than willing to be smothered,” Avery said. “I realize now that one partner in a relationship can only dominate if the other partner is willing to submit. Did you notice how prickly Paul was getting yesterday because I wasn’t willing to agree with everything he said? I’ve submitted to him all these years, as well as to Ron, but becoming more assertive with the males in my life is among my resolutions for self-improvement now that Ron is out of the picture. It’s taken me a while to grasp the amazing idea that it’s crazy to live by rules concerning feminine behavior that were out of date before I was born, let alone now that I’m heading toward fifty.”

  Kate grinned. “Way to go, Mom. Watch out, world! It may have taken you a while to hit the barricades, but now I can see you’ll soon be storming over them.”

  “I hope so.” Avery rose to her feet with such grace that Kate smiled inwardly. When her mother stormed the barricades, she’d probably do it in white gloves and wearing panty hose.

  Avery leaned across the coffee table to give her daughter a goodbye kiss. “I’m going to call Ellie tonight when she gets to Washington. I’ll let her know that we’ve arranged to meet in Lucinda’s Café at one o’clock tomorrow.” She gave a tiny smile. “I confess I’m looking forward to seeing Ron’s face when he steps out of his car and finds both of his wives waiting to greet him!”

  “I can’t believe I heard you say that!”

  “Well, as we just agreed, I’m now a liberated woman.”

  “Our confrontation with my father seems to be turning into a cross between a family reunion and a tailgate party,” Kate said, accompanying her mother to the front door. “It’s surreal.”

  “Yes, it is a little. But then, most things about your father seem to end up being impossible to believe unless you’ve lived through them.” Avery gave a laugh that sounded amused rather than bitter. “I suppose, given his past history, we should never have expected Ron to do anything as normal and boring as staying dead.”

  Twenty-Four

  K ate ate popcorn, watched the movie and finished packing an overnight bag. Then she took a long, luxurious bath, prepared a cup of herbal tea with the promising name Sleepytime, and climbed into bed.

  It took less than five minutes to accept that she might be exhausted and facing an early-morning flight, but there was no way she was going to fall asleep anytime soon. For the past two nights, Luke had insisted on coming home from the restaurant by ten. Falling asleep with him beside her had been easy, so this morning, anxious not to drag him away from work, she’d assured him she would be fine going to bed alone.

  Apparently, she’d lied. The moment she switched out the light, her entire body stiffened into a parody of relaxation that would have been comic if it hadn’t been so painful. Lying in Luke’s king-size bed, snuggled beneath his soft, European down comforter, she felt about as comfortable as if she’d been stranded on the ledge of a cliff, with a thousand feet of jagged rock between her and safety. The phone beside the bed had become the enemy, and each time she closed her eyes, she froze in expectation that it would start ringing, ready to attack her with its latest installment of hideous threats.

  Reluctantly surrendering to the inevitable, she sat up in bed and switched the light on so that she could read until Luke arrived home. She flicked through the pages of her favorite gourmet cooking magazine, longing for sleep and yet too hyper to let herself succumb.

  In the end, her wait for Luke wasn’t as long as she’d feared. He came into the bedroom shortly after midnight and greeted her with a smile that melted her heart. He sat on the bed, folding her into his arms and kissing her hard.

  “I hoped you’d be sleeping,” he said when they finally broke apart for air. “But I’m glad you’re not, even though we have such an early start in the morning.”

  “I was waiting for you.” The phone was once again an ordinary, everyday object and not a bare-toothed monster waiting to pounce. “Did you have a busy night?”

  “Insane, but no special crises, thank God. The Trattoria actually did the most business tonight, both volume and dollar receipts.” He lay down next to her, still fully clothed, cradling her against the length of his body. “No phone calls? No unexpected visitors?”

  “My mother stopped by for a quick visit.” Kate smiled. “She was very impressed by your stuffed mushrooms.”

  “I’ll send her a batch the next time we make them.” He grinned. “It’s always a smart idea to suck up to your future mother-in-law.”

  Her heart performed a somersault. “Gee, I must have forgotten the occasion when you and I talked about getting married. How absentminded of me.”

  “I was waiting until we found your father before I asked you to marry me, but right now I can’t for the life of me remember why that seemed such a great idea.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek in a caress tender enough to set her pulses racing. “It feels good to come home to you, Kate.” His hand slid across her hips and his eyes warmed with laughter. “And to Puff, of course.”

  “We both missed you.” She could feel herself relaxing, muscle by strained muscle, as she soaked up the balm of his presence. Succumbing to an overwhelming urge to be closer to him, she unfastened the buttons on his gray chambray shirt and rested her cheek against the soft white cotton of his T-shirt.

  He’d changed out of his chef’s uniform, but the smell of rosemary and basil still clung to his skin, mingling with faint traces of soap from his morning shower and the subtle woodsy scent of his cologne. There was something wonderfully familiar and comforting about the combination of smells, something that was more than merely erotic. Together they made up a package that was quintessentially Luke. Even with her eyes closed, she would recognize him, she mused, finally relaxed enough to feel sleepy. Her thoughts drifted along in drowsy disorder and she floated with them.

  The image of butterflies had suddenly transformed into a crystal-clear picture of a man and woman kissing.

  Kate shot up in bed, rigid with shock. He’d covered her head with a towel to cut off her sense of smell. Of course! He knew that she was almost as likely to identify him by smell as she was by sight or sound. Good God, how had she ever believed she was looking at butterflies? What a fool she’d been to allow herself to be tricked!

  Luke grabbed her upper arms. “Kate, what just happened? Open your eyes! Talk to me.”

  She obediently opened her eyes and stared at Luke, the familiar, strong contours of his face providing a sense of security while the world around her cracked and shuddered into a new form.

&nbs
p; “It wasn’t my father,” she said, her teeth chattering in delayed reaction. “He didn’t come here. He probably never trailed us when we were in Reston…never left Virginia. That’s why he had to blindfold me. Not just to frighten me, but so that I wouldn’t get even a glimpse of him.”

  Somehow, Luke disentangled the gist of her garbled explanation, realizing she was talking about more than one he. “Are you telling me it wasn’t your father who invaded your house on Monday night?”

  She managed to nod, struggling to impose order on a tumult of impressions that suddenly all needed to be realigned. “It wasn’t my dad. I realize that now. Of course it wasn’t. Part of me always recognized it was a trick. But I was scared and disoriented and I fell into the trap he set for me.”

  “Kate, sweetheart, it’s been a rough few days and you’re tired. It’s understandable that you’d prefer the person who attacked you to be somebody other than your dad. But…are you absolutely sure about this?”

  “I’m sure. At some level, I never really believed it was my father. Tonight, when I was lying next to you and thinking how I could recognize you anywhere, even with my eyes closed, everything just clicked.”

  “All right, but if it wasn’t your father, then who the hell was it?”

  She could hear the lingering doubts in Luke’s voice although he was trying to be supportive. “I wish I knew.” She thought for a moment and realized that she didn’t have a clue as to who had threatened her. The darkness and the blindfold had done their work too well. “All I know is that it was a man. When he tied me up, his arms and hands definitely felt masculine.”