In another twist of fate, one of the two Interpol agents who cracked the scheme was arrested on possession of heroin, while the second was hospitalized with a non-life-threatening gunshot wound.
In other news . . .
“CNN. I heard too.” Simon beamed at her as he stretched his legs out in the empty lounge of the Riverside Hotel, where she and Vanna had returned only last night. “Congratulations,” he said, looking with pleasure at Claire. He’d been released early that afternoon after spending a night in Siem Reap’s jail and then being debriefed by Interpol.
“Thanks and I . . . Simon. I have to apologize. I opened the envelope. I can’t believe all the information and background that you gave me so I could write the story. The story that follows this one. The one I came here to write. Not that this one isn’t big news. Every reporter in the country is jumping on it.” She paused and looked at her hands before looking back at him. “Thank you. That was unbelievably generous.”
“No. You deserved it. Without you, I don’t know how this would have ended up.”
“I pulled some lulus along the way.”
“You did.” He smiled as they both thought of Samnang and that night when he had detonated the grenade. “But seriously, you were right. I should have trusted you more. But when it comes to my work as an Interpol agent . . .”
“Only your work?” She laughed.
“I know.” He shrugged. “My need to control. I think we discussed that. Suffice it to say I’m getting over that.
“You’ve made a fantastic start.”
“Thanks. And before I forget, Arun says that as part of the exit strategy from his career with Interpol, he’ll give you the interview for that other story you want to write.”
“That’s so sweet of him.” She looked at him with concern. “How is he doing? I didn’t know he’d been shot until I’d submitted the news report and I haven’t had a moment to check on him. Never mind the fact that he’s planning on getting out of Interpol.”
“Well, he is. But for now he’s recuperating. It was a flesh wound and he’s already released. I heard Vanna is with him now.”
They were silent for a moment.
“It’s unbelievable that it’s over and that you’re released. Exactly like you said. Less than twenty-four hours and you’re out.”
“And thank God for that. A criminal I would never make. Jail is damn uncomfortable.”
She laughed and then looked at him seriously. “So catch me up. What happened to Richard, is he gone?”
Simon shook his head. “He somehow got on a plane out. He was discovered in Russia. The KGB shot him early this morning.”
“It’s all rather surreal, isn’t it?”
And for a moment only their differences seemed to fill the silence between them.
“Maybe it’s better off that they’re all dead. I mean the major players.” She hesitated. “Except Samnang.”
“He will be soon. He was taken from his cell and admitted to hospital just last night. He’s in a coma.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, and surprisingly, she meant it. “Despite everything, I feel for his daughter.”
“You can’t make everything right,” he said softly as his hand brushed hers.
“I know.” There were few people that knew her like he did. Ironically, her Uncle Jack had been one. She pushed the thought of her uncle from her mind. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about, not on a day when only good had happened.
“I can’t believe that my Buddha would have been the most valuable piece in that shipment.”
“One of, sweetheart. That shipment was worth more than any in recent history. Thank God it was stopped.”
“Do you think it would be possible to see the Buddha again? It’s strange really, that the piece I once pictured on my coffee table was the beginning of this whole . . .” She hesitated. “I don’t know. What do you call it? An adventure or worse?”
“Something you’ll promise me never to repeat,” he said.
“I think I can agree to that.” She smiled at him. “So, about the Buddha, could I get one last look at it?”
“Possibly. Not immediately because it’s still being processed. But I’m sure I could arrange something.”
She smiled. “That would be great. I’d become rather fond of it after all the trouble it caused.”
“So what do you plan now?”
“What if I said that I was offered a job at the local paper?”
“Here?” Simon’s laugh filled her with uneasiness.
“Why do you laugh?” She watched him suspiciously.
“At the irony. They have no idea how unhappy you’d be here. That wouldn’t make for inspiring copy.”
“Maybe,” Claire murmured. “And you, what do you plan to do?”
“I plan to keep pursuing you.” He smiled. “In fact, I’ve been thinking lately that it would be great to settle down.”
“And I’ve been thinking that I might like to see the world. At least some of it.”
His laugh was true and seemed to reach to the depths of his soul. “You’re kidding me?” he asked as he took her into his arms and kissed her long and deep and hard.
“The world is a bigger place than I imagined,” she said minutes later. “I don’t want to go back to the States yet. There’s a portfolio I want to create with stories that are like none I’ve written before.”
“Like the one you just wrote.”
“I don’t know if I could stand that much excitement.”
“Neither could I,” he agreed. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved like you did.”
“Simon,” she warned and touched his arm lightly. “Will you ever change?”
“That’s what everything is riding on, isn’t it.”
“Pretty much,” she agreed.
• • •
They had supper later that evening in an outdoor café close to her hotel. It had been a beautiful day, one filled with promise.
“I can’t believe it’s over, or for that matter that it happened at all,” she said as they left the restaurant. Her heart thumped at the thought of that kind of danger being a normal part of his life.
His nod was brief, neither an acknowledgment nor a denial, and silence shimmered between them for a minute before he took her hand, pulling her to a stop and reaching for her other hand. “Claire, there’s one other thing. Your uncle.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “His association with Samnang . . .”
Her hands slipped from his.
“Samnang?” Everything in her stilled.
“There are people who would finish what Samnang couldn’t and he wanted revenge on your uncle.”
“And me dead.”
“Exactly.”
“What did you do, Simon?”
“I did what was right. What would have happened anyway, and it was enough to stop the hit on you.”
“Hit on me? Oh my God.” Her heart seemed to stop at the very thought. Knowing that someone wanted to kill you was one thing but a hit was incomprehensible. She could feel the color leave her face and took a breath, and for a moment she felt light-headed.
“Claire?” His arm went around her waist.
She stepped away. “No, Simon. Tell me what you did.”
“Samnang’s hit was twofold—either you die or Jack returns to Cambodia and faces justice.” His hand took hers, and this time she let him as he held it loosely in the palm of his. “Of course, Samnang’s idea of justice was that he wanted Jack’s death.”
“I don’t care what Samnang wanted,” Claire bit out.
“Neither do I, sweetheart. But there are some things we can’t fix. Who Jack was and what he did are among them. The reason for the hit, another. It was stopped in exchange for the return of your Uncle Jack to Cambodia.”
She took a breath, for a minute unable to comprehend what that might mean.
“Jack’s going to stand trial, Claire. I spoke to the authorities before I was released, they’ll b
e detaining him shortly.”
She pulled her hand free as her breath caught in a hitch deep in her throat. It was a minute before she could speak. “How could you, Simon?”
“Claire, I had no other choice.”
“I wish that were true, Simon.” She looked away from him, across the street, where darkness pooled. It was the same darkness that filtered over her heart and her hope that their relationship stood any chance at all.
Chapter Fifty
“We’re getting married!” Vanna said the following week as she pressed close to Arun.
“You’re what?” Claire asked and reached across, taking Vanna’s hand. She was still reeling from all she and Simon had discussed only a week before. “Are you crazy? You barely know him.”
“Maybe they’re just crazy in love,” Simon said softly from his seat beside her. Around them the restaurant bustled with the activity of orders filled and dishes clattered as they were delivered empty back to the kitchen.
Only hours ago she had reluctantly agreed to Vanna’s dinner invitation. Now, the cambogee beef lay untouched. The marinated delicacy held no appeal anymore and the bite of the mouthwatering green mango salad laid like a lump in her stomach.
“Claire, it’s all right. I love him.”
“You’ve known each other for . . .” She frowned. “Has it even been two weeks?”
“And we connected right away,” Vanna said. “It’s like we’ve known each other forever.” She turned to Arun. “Right?”
“Anything you say, love,” Arun said agreeably. He turned to Claire. “No worries, my friend. I love her and I’ll treat her like the goddess that she is.”
Claire shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to question your intentions.”
“Yes, you did,” Vanna said good-naturedly. “And we love you for it.” She glanced between Simon and Claire. “But I think maybe your doubts have more to do with another relationship and not ours.” She took Arun’s hand. “We planned our wedding so you’ll be able to attend.”
“What do you mean?” Simon asked.
“Oh, Jeez.” Vanna covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, you didn’t know.”
“I’m going back to the States at the end of the month. You were right about the job. I don’t have a working visa and, while I took a leave from work, my visa expires soon. Besides, it’s time,” Claire explained to Simon. She stood up. “Congratulations.” She gave Vanna and Arun both a kiss on the cheek. “I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”
As she left the restaurant, she could feel Simon’s presence behind her.
She stopped and turned to face him as she felt his unasked question lying heavy between them. “It won’t work, Simon. Despite everything you’ve done for me.” She blinked back tears. “More than generous, but it’s not enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at them.” She glanced back into the crowded restaurant where Arun and Vanna seemed oblivious to everyone and everything around them. “They’re so in love. And they completely trust each other.” She bit her lip and looked away. “There are no shadows.”
“Your Uncle Jack,” he said. “I’m sorry. I wish it could have been different.”
She nodded. “And you. I know you mourn past mistakes, lost loves.”
“Claire, Akara is my past. You’re my future.”
She shook her head. “No, Simon. I love you, but after the wedding I’m going home.”
“Extend your visa.”
“The thing is, I tried to believe in us, Simon.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I can anymore. Uncle Jack, that hurts,” she said. “And I don’t know anything that can change that.”
“I needed you safe, Claire. There was no other way.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can forgive you for that.”
She walked away, leaving him standing thoughtfully in the shadows.
• • •
The e-mail was in her inbox, terse and to the point and so unlike her Uncle Jack.
Call me.
The words played through her mind through a long afternoon before she finally picked up the phone with no thought to the time of day and called the number he’d left. With everything that had happened, the last thing Jack got was consideration. But an e-mail, she couldn’t imagine what hoops he’d gone through to get someone to send that for him.
“Claire, thank God you called.” He sighed heavily. “And thank God Samnang is dead.”
She shifted the phone to her other hand and leaned back against the headboard. She looked around. She was tired of sterile hotel rooms. She longed for home.
“I couldn’t leave it the way it was, you thinking that I was Khmer Rouge and—”
“Weren’t you?” she cut him off, already regretting the phone call.
“I won’t deny it. But those times were different, it was kill or be killed.” He laughed bitterly. “That was wrongly put, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me.”
“I wish I could say I didn’t do it, Claire. You can’t understand it unless you are placed in the middle of insanity to that level. Everything goes back to that primordial need to survive.”
“Does it?” she asked coolly and considered how long it would be before the entire conversation would cause the bile in her gut to spill over.
“I’m not apologizing for what I did.” There was silence for a minute. “Look, Claire, I’m not saying that this makes it right but Samnang hated me because of the gems I stole from him.” He sighed. “Stolen gems, that’s where it all began. We took them from the collection that was gathered at the camp. Taken from the prisoners.”
“Prisoners?” She almost choked on the word. They hadn’t been prisoners but ordinary citizens confined to work camps by a government intent on turning time back to before the industrial age.
“I’m sorry, Claire. It was a different world.” He cleared his throat. “The gems were our get-out and get-rich plan and I ran from Cambodia with the lot. But in the end, I used them to help the refugees from Cambodia. I stole them from the Khmer Rouge and gave them back to the people they tortured.” He took an audible breath. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“Why? How could you be part of something so evil?” She couldn’t help it—her curiosity rode over her hatred of what he had done.
“Ah, Claire, how did I know you would ask the hard question. It’s hard to believe and even more difficult to say, but killing when it is accepted by the group and the victim has no identity is, well—easy.”
“Easy?” Claire clutched the phone and tried to visualize the man who spoke with what was once her Uncle Jack’s voice.
“None of this is coming out right,” he said almost apologetically. “What I’m trying to say is, I was just like the rest of them. But everything changed the day the woman was brought out. We were to kill her like many of the others. But this time it was different. This time I knew her and . . .” A sob broke across the line. “Look, I’m sorry, Claire. I’m a different man now than I was back then.”
“What changed?”
“She was once a friend, and more. And I’ll never forget how she died.” Another sob traveled across the line. “It’s over for me now, Claire. You won’t see me again. But one thing I wanted to tell you. You have what I didn’t, integrity. You won’t be led. But don’t let that stubbornness of yours get between you and love. In the end it’s the only thing that matters. Without your aunt, I would have been lost. She was home.” Static crept across the line. “Take care of yourself, Claire, and love well, and one other thing—forgive Simon Trent. It wasn’t his fault. It was what I wanted.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m going to stand trial, Claire, and that is as it should be. As a matter of fact, it is somewhat of a relief.”
A sob escaped her. What he had done was unforgivable and that he faced justice after all this time only right. But he was family and somehow it felt like a betrayal that someone from out
side the family, Simon, had been the one to step in.
“Don’t, Claire. Don’t regret anything. And don’t turn your back on Simon Trent. He is the one good thing to come out of all this, that and justice. And one other thing—forgiveness.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted. But even as she thought that, her gaze went to the emerald necklace lying on the nightstand. The emerald wasn’t worth a lot and it wouldn’t change the past, but it would make a difference to a family she’d seen one too many times living their lives on the edges of society, sleeping on the pavement.
“Forgiveness, Claire. Sometimes it’s all we have. And unless you’re sentencing yourself to a life of misery I don’t think you have a choice.” He cleared his throat. “Hate is easy. Aren’t I proof of that? Don’t do it, Claire.”
“Good-bye, Uncle Jack.” She hung up, giving him the one sign of respect and the only bit of hope she could—his old name.
Chapter Fifty-one
Arun and Vanna’s wedding celebration had ended hours ago. Now Simon and Claire sat together in the hotel lobby.
“I was a fool,” he said, his tone soft and sultry in the silence of the nearly deserted lobby. “I completely underestimated you, I’m sorry. The story you wrote was amazing, and what you did to get it was unbelievable.”
“Don’t be sorry. Without you and Arun, Vanna and I might have died that night.”
“You had our backs as much as we had yours.”
She looked at him, startled, uncomfortable with the direction of the compliment. “I extended my visa.”
“When?”
She looked away. “Over a week ago. It was rather scary actually. Like leaving home for the first time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He caressed her palm, sending tingles through her that were more arousing than comforting. “Never mind. I know why. If it was meant to be, it would happen.”
She loved him for understanding her, knowing the whys of something that couldn’t be explained.
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