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We didn’t have to speculate about what had happened for long. Sebastian phoned a few minutes later.
“We have your mother. She’s been mildly sedated.”
“Why? Is she all right? Where is she?”
“She’s fine now, but she was frantic when they found her. The sedation was necessary to get her through airport security without raising suspicion. James is with her. They’re in the air and on their way to you now.”
“James? I thought he’d left the country.”
“No. With Grace Shipley’s help, he managed to plant a look-alike. I’m sure he’ll explain it all when you see him. Their plane lands at ten this evening.”
Grace? Was she why James had been so quiet? “I’ll meet the plane. Thank you, Sebastian. Thanks for all you’ve done.”
“You are most welcome, my dear. I look forward to seeing Laura again when she’s safely home.”
Safely home: two of the most comforting words in the entire English language. I wallowed in that comfort and inhaled relief by the lungful.
“I’m going to head out,” Sam said.
I thanked him again and gave him a grateful hug before he left. I promised to let him know the full story as soon as I knew it.
After I tidied Mom’s room, I jumped in the shower. She and James wouldn’t arrive for hours yet. Would Grace be with them? I touched the facecloth to my empty earlobes. Jealousy stung like soap in my eyes.
The cruiser out front posed a minor problem. Mom and I had worked too hard to protect the connection between us. Cain had found out anyway, but I still wasn’t going to expose her unnecessarily. When it was time, I ghosted out of the condo and re-formed blocks away. From there, I hailed a taxi to the airport.
I arrived twenty minutes early and went down to the departures level and bought a cup of herbal tea. It was something to occupy my hands while I waited. The moment their flight registered as landed, I took the escalator to the arrivals level. I kept my head down and stayed out of sight.
When they finally came through the doors, I dropped my cup in the trash and ran to them. James had his arm around Mom’s shoulders. Her pale face lifted with a wan smile when she spotted me. James let her go and Mom and I embraced as if it had been years and not days since we’d last seen each other. I felt the heaving of her slender body and fought to keep my own tears at bay.
“Let’s go home,” I said, and loosened my hold.
I looked over at James. He shook his head. “I’m not going with you.”
His words stung.
He spoke to my mom. “Laura, I need a private word with Emelynn.” He took my mom’s elbow and escorted her to a bench at the perimeter of the baggage carousel area. I followed. “We’ll be right over there,” he told her. “We’ll just be a minute, and I’ll have my eyes on you the whole time.”
Mom nodded. James walked away and I followed him with my heart in my throat. He turned so he faced my mother and offered her a reassuring smile.
“You’re limping,” I said, having noticed him favouring his left side.
“Yeah. Didn’t see the kick coming. It’s nothing serious.”
The dark circles under his eyes made me wonder if he’d slept. I held my breath.
He looked to the floor. So this is it, I thought. I wasn’t ready. “What happened?” I asked, stalling for time. Time to prepare, to steel myself.
I’d interrupted his thoughts. He rearranged his features. “Grace knew just the guy to impersonate me. I sent him to Cain’s sister’s house on the pretense of an investigation. Sure enough, Cain showed himself. I would never have approached his sister if I’d known Cain knew about your mother.” He glanced in Mom’s direction again. “She’s pretty shaken, but she’s strong.” He gathered his thoughts before continuing. “Sebastian’s men subdued Cain until I was able to read him and learn the protocol he’d set up to check in with the kidnappers in Toronto. Cain knew where she was being held. That’s how we found her.”
“Thank you. I know how much you hate doing that.”
He tipped his chin. “There’s more.” Once again, he looked away.
“What is it?”
“There’s a child. A baby, I suppose. Not born yet.”
The blood left my face in a rush. Though I knew the answer, I asked anyway. “Ours?”
“Yes. A surrogate is carrying our child.”
I grabbed his sleeve. “Who? Where?” Half-formed thoughts skittered around in my mind unable to find purchase.
“I don’t know, but I know the clinic they used. It’s in California. I’m heading there now.”
“What will you do when you find her?”
James’s gaze flickered to one of my earlobes and then the other. He struggled from my grip and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know. I’ll have to play it by ear. See how much she knows.”
“This is the proof that Cain spoke of.”
“Yeah. He was pretty proud of that. Your mother doesn’t know. I gotta go.”
My mouth gaped. He walked a brisk pace back to my mother and knelt down in front of her. I gathered my wits and rushed to catch up. “Emelynn is going to take you home. If you feel that panic coming on again, take the Ativan I gave you. Remind yourself that the men who took you and the men who were behind it are all dead. They can’t hurt you again.”
My mother flinched at the word dead. James patted her knees then stood and offered her a hand up. She took it and mumbled thanks as he hugged her. He then turned to me. “I’ll call when I have news.”
He walked away from us and jogged toward the departures level escalator. I watched his back until his tall frame disappeared. He hadn’t even touched me.
I wiped my tears and turned to Mom. “Let’s get you home.”
I had her put a scarf around her hair and most of her face then took her hand. “Keep your head down,” I told her. We walked out of the airport and got into a taxi.
It sped through the light late-night traffic. I had the driver drop me off a block away from the condo and assured Mom I’d be there waiting for her. When they were out of sight, I ducked into the shadows and ghosted then bolted for the condo.
The police cruiser parked in front of my building was an unwelcome reminder that whoever had tried to kill me was still out there. Regardless, Mom was safer with me than without me, and I didn’t want her out of my sight. At least the police were close at hand if we needed help.
Back in the condo, I buttered some toast and made a pot of tea. Mom didn’t want to talk about her ordeal. I didn’t push. I’d been in her shoes. She’d talk when she could cope with it. She’d suffered no physical assault that I could see. She nibbled at the toast with little enthusiasm and soon excused herself and went to her room.
I phoned Avery and apologized for waking him. After I told him what had happened, he agreed to come by first thing in the morning and see Mom. I warned him about the police cruiser out front and asked him not to mention to Mom the attempt on my life. She didn’t need any more stress. I didn’t tell him about the surrogate; I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. We were as close as father and daughter. I knew he’d be devastated. I wouldn’t ruin his night. I’d tell him tomorrow.
I checked on Mom as I walked to my room. She lay in her bed with a book. I closed the door of my bedroom before I called Sam. He wasn’t asleep. I relayed the events as James had described them. Telling Sam about the surrogate was easier than telling Avery. He took it in stride and immediately went into solution mode. He made it sound simple: protect the surrogate, isolate her if necessary, and make sure the baby is delivered safely. He didn’t get to the next part—the mom and dad and happily-ever-after-family part. Once again, he knew what not to say.
“I have some news of my own,” Sam said. “The chief tells me the funding for my position has been reallocated. Not that he ever knew ICO funded it, but ICO must have figured out they had a dead cell and they’re erasing their tracks. I’ve been laid off. I’m on paid leave until my twelve-week notice period runs out.”
“Guess we knew this was coming. What will you do?”
“Don’t know yet. Haven’t been out of a job since I was fourteen. Right now a hammock and a cold cerveza somewhere warm sounds like a decent plan.”
“Okay, but until you book that flight, you’re on my payroll. That is, if you want to keep working on my father’s case.”
“Yeah, I’d like to see it through.”
I checked on Mom again. She’d turned out her light and lay in the bed with her back to the door. Perhaps she’d taken the Ativan James had given her.
After I crawled into my own bed, the thoughts I’d been fighting since seeing James came rushing in. He hadn’t kissed me or held me. We were going to be parents and strangers. The child growing in someone else’s womb already had so many strikes against it. Our child.
Early in the morning, I got out of bed and pulled on a robe. I tiptoed down the hall and looked in on Mom. She lay curled on her side, still asleep. I made a pot of coffee and checked my phones. Carrying both of them was proving cumbersome. I no longer needed two, but I didn’t feel comfortable asking James to remove the tracer from the first. I added find a new IT maverick to my to-do list.
When Mom came out of her room freshly scrubbed and fully dressed, I took it as a good sign. She didn’t usually lounge around in her robe like I did unless she was sick. I made porridge for our breakfast with the intent to fill her with comfort food and surround her with familiarity. We’d just finished loading the dishwasher when Avery arrived. I excused myself to give them some privacy.
When I returned, she and Avery were sitting on the sofa. A prescription lay on the table in front of Mom, and Avery was scribbling the name of a psychologist. I’d overheard a little of their conversation but didn’t let on. I sat in one of the swivel chairs opposite them.
“The psychologist is going to think I’ve lost my mind,” Mom said. Avery raised his eyebrows and Mom caught on to what she’d said and laughed at herself.
“She’s very competent. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Avery said.
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure I can’t get you a coffee?” I asked.
“Thanks, but no, I should go.” Avery stood.
“Please, not yet. I have something I need to tell both of you.”
Avery hitched his slacks and sat back down.
I gathered my courage and began. “When James was . . . interviewing Cain, he learned that ICO implanted a surrogate with an embryo. Mine and James’s.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Anguish was plain on Mom’s face.
Avery hung his head. “How far along is the pregnancy?”
“I don’t know. James found out which clinic was used. It’s in California. He was headed there last night. Said he’d call when he had more information.”
“It can’t be more than six weeks,” Avery said. “The first trimester.”
“How are you feeling about it?” Mom asked.
I picked a knob of lint from my sleeve. “I knew this outcome was a possibility, but I never really thought it would happen.”
“The odds were stacked against it,” Avery said.
“I know. It’s not that I don’t want kids—I do—but I didn’t want them right now, and not like this. Looks like that choice has been taken away from me.”
“There are options, Emelynn,” Avery said.
I looked up. Would terminating the pregnancy be an option for James? Somehow, I doubted it. “If this baby is born, I want it. I won’t have someone else raising a child of mine.”
“How does James feel about it?” Mom asked.
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it last night, but I know he wants kids. He’ll want this baby.”
“That’s a good start,” Mom said. “A baby can be a blessing.”
“Any child of mine will inherit the ghosting gene, Mom. I have no idea how to deal with that.”
“So you’ll learn. And I’ll help you.”
I smiled at her effort. A mother’s love trumps all. I’d have to remember that.
“A word of caution, Em,” Avery said. “There’s a reason couples don’t announce a pregnancy until after the first trimester. She could still lose it.”
“You know, I hadn’t realized it until just now, but I hope she doesn’t, whoever she is.”
After Avery left, Mom asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I didn’t. I didn’t want to think about a baby being born into a broken family. How would custody work between parents in two different countries? I wondered.
Mom had left her prescription on the coffee table. I glanced down at it and shook my head. “He prescribed Ativan? Do you know how many times I asked him for that and he said no?”
“It’s only five pills,” Mom said.
“It’s a minor miracle is what it is.”
Later in the morning, I told her that Sam had been laid off from the police department.
“I should call him,” she said. “Thank him.” She slipped back to her room. When she emerged, she told me the Mansfield Group still hadn’t found the wreckage. They’d been searching for five days.
Sebastian called that afternoon. He wanted to come by to see Mom and offer his support. He wasn’t her favourite person, but she agreed to his company. She said she owed him thanks as well. I suspected Sebastian’s visit would also serve to interrupt the memory loop I knew was playing in her head. In time, she’d be able to unlink the fear from the memories and the fear would fade. The memories, however, I wasn’t so sure about.
Sebastian continued his good-neighbour routine and checked in at the front desk. He showed up with flowers. Mom seemed pleased, or at least her smile was genuine.
The three of us went into the kitchen while she arranged them in a vase, but her small talk was full of holes. She finally gave up the ruse that everything was all right and asked Sebastian to tell her exactly what had happened.
We migrated to the living room and they stitched together their stories.
“I’d been staying with Linda,” Mom said, turning to me. “You remember her?” Linda was one of Mom’s oldest friends in Toronto. I nodded. “I should never have gone back to my apartment, but I needed some papers I’d left there. It only took a minute. I was in and out, but they must have been watching. I walked back to Linda’s. It’s a few blocks away. Didn’t even notice the van parked along the sidewalk. A car alarm went off across the street somewhere and I heard shouting. In hindsight, I know that it was planned as a distraction. They pulled me off my feet and I didn’t even have a chance to scream before the van was moving. Going back there was stupid of me.”
“Laura, these men are . . . were professionals. If they didn’t get you there, they would have gotten you somewhere else.”
“He’s right, Mom. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“The plan to flush out Cain was already in motion when we learned he had you,” Sebastian said. Sebastian’s men must have given him an in-depth timeline of events, which he relayed to Mom. He didn’t scrimp on details either, so I was glad I’d already told her about the surrogate.
Sebastian turned to me. “Such a shame things didn’t work out between you and James.”
My mother swung her head around. “Emelynn?”
I’m sure my face was frozen and probably the colour of ash.
“Oh dear,” Sebastian said. “Seems I’ve misstepped.”
“What happened?” Mom asked.
“What did James tell you?” I asked Sebastian.
“He didn’t tell me anything. I read the signs. But perhaps I’m mistaken?”
“I don’t care to talk about it.”
That little bomb effectively ended our conversation. Mom thanked Sebastian for his part in freeing her and she walked him to the door. But she wasn’t done with me.
She sat opposite me. “Is it true? About James?”
“He didn’t agree with my decision to take the seat on the Tribunal. Hasn’t spoken to me since. I’d hoped he’d come to see that it was the only decision I could make, but he hasn’t. If it weren’t for what happened to you, I probably still wouldn’t have heard from him.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much you care for him. If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
Mom and I didn’t stir from the condo the rest of the day. With nightfall came the risk of a return visit from the Flier out to kill me. I didn’t think Mom was ready for that news yet. I kept my phone close.
The night ground slowly past.
We had a visitor the next morning, but not the murderous kind. The front desk called to announce Ben Nicolson. I explained who he was to Mom before he knocked on the door.
He stood a step back from the door and massaged a roll of drawings. “I wouldn’t normally drop by unannounced,” he said, with his chin tucked in. “I couldn’t find your number. Thought I’d leave this at the front desk, but they called up. If this isn’t a convenient time . . .”
“It’s okay. Come in and meet my friend, Laura.”
He raised his head and stepped inside. After I introduced them, Ben asked if we could use the dining room table. He unfurled the roll of drawings and we each took a corner to keep it flat.
“I used the city survey for the dimensions, so they might not be accurate. This is just to give you a rough idea. This is the setback line.” He pointed out the property’s features on the aerial view, though he didn’t need to. I knew every inch of the landscape.
On the next drawing, he’d placed a building’s footprint. It was parallel to the cliff, much like the original cottage had been. “This siting takes full advantage of the ocean view, but this second one,” he said, peeling back a page, “is sited on a slight angle to the south, toward the park. You’ve got the space to do it and you’ll get more sun. We’d have to rebuild the garage, but with the new setbacks, unless we move the house closer to your neighbour to the north, we’d have to do that anyway.” Given my nighttime activities, distance from the neighbour sounded like a good plan.
He lifted that page without warning and the drawing underneath stole my breath away.
“This is an elevation drawing looking from the road.” He continued to talk—something about the history of the property and the vision of the original owners—but I wasn’t paying much mind. All of my attention was on the home he’d drawn. I recognized the Arts and Crafts style. It was the cottage, but bigger and with a second storey. A flagstone walkway led to wide steps and a big covered veranda that begged for a porch swing and sturdy wicker chairs.
“I love it,” I said, then realized I’d interrupted him.
A smile stretched across his face. “This is your vision. I just put it together. The design software did most of it.”
“It’s perfect. What do you think?” I said, turning to Mom.
“Certainly has the feel of the original, doesn’t it?”
“Let me show you the other elevations,” Ben said. He turned back the drawing to show us the other sides of the structure. “You don’t need to settle on this particular model. There are a number of suitable Craftsman designs. I can help you sort through them, but I don’t want to push. You haven’t even hired me yet.”
“Well, let’s fix that. Draw up a contract and I’ll take a look.”
He straightened. “I’ll do that,” he said, smoothing back his hair. “In the meantime, I can send you some floorplan layouts.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
“All right. I’ll include some pricing to give you an idea of construction costs.”
After he left, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. “I’ll have to thank Sebastian. This is exactly what you and I both need right now.”
“Is he one of you?” Mom asked.
“Ben? No. He’s refreshingly sweet and uncomplicated.” The look on Mom’s face made me smirk. “You look relieved.”
“Can’t blame me, can you?” she said, and we both started laughing. Our laughter grew more animated, and soon we had tears in our eyes. Happy tears. It felt wonderful, as if we’d opened a valve that was releasing the pressure of the past few days.
Later, each with a glass of wine in hand, Mom and I stood over the drawings. “The kitchen in this corner, I think,” I said. “Master bedroom here.”
She flipped back to the front-porch view. “I can see a nursery right here,” she said, pointing to the second floor. Her words drew a surreal line in the sand. She noticed my stillness and looked up, offering me a smile as if it were an invitation. “You can turn it into a bedroom when the little one grows up.” I stepped gingerly over the line, and we flipped between the big sheets and reimagined our future.
