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The next day marked the seventh day of Mansfield’s search. They still hadn’t found Dad’s wreckage. Sam sent me another Mansfield invoice and checked in.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“They’ll finish searching their initial grid today, but they’ve identified a secondary area outside the original grid. If they find nothing after that, we’ll have to regroup. Make a decision.”
By the time evening rolled around, Mom had a touch of cabin fever, so we went out for dinner. Our meals hadn’t arrived before the barking-dog ringtone sang out. I quickly checked my phone’s screen. James had come back. Hope surged through me like adrenalin.
“What is it?” Mom said.
“James is at the condo.” I turned my phone to show her. “Sam installed a camera on the rooftop so I could see who’s coming and going.”
But my elation drained in an instant. “Damn it,” I said, and pinched the bridge of my nose. “He doesn’t know I had the locks changed.” I dialled his number then pulled up the video feed again.
He hadn’t yet opened the rooftop door. I watched him pull the phone from his pocket. He looked to see who was calling and immediately scanned his surroundings.
He put the phone to his ear and continued his scan. “Are you clairvoyant now?” He spotted the camera and stared into it. I knew every angle of his face, could feel the stubble on his jaw, the soft dip at the base of his throat.
“No. Just cautious.”
“May I come in?”
“I had to change the locks. I’m out with Mom for dinner, but I can be there in ten minutes.”
He looked away from the camera. “Don’t interrupt your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don’t go.” I cringed at the desperation in my voice.
“I have things to do. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hung up and moved out of the camera’s range. I stared at the phone. Mom reached across the table and touched my hand.
“I should have told him about the locks earlier.” It occurred to me that I hadn’t told him any of it. Not about the break-in. Not about the poisoned milk. It had all happened so fast and at the same time as Cain’s calls and Mom’s abduction. What a mess.
––––––––
THE NEXT MORNING WAS Mom’s first appointment with the shrink, as she called her. She came out of her room wearing a lemon-yellow dress and beige pumps—an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a church luncheon.
“What do you think?” she said.
“You look very nice, but I don’t think the doctor cares what you wear.”
“Maybe not, but first impressions are important.”
“Would you like me to go with you?”
“No. I need to do this myself.”
She took the MGB and I settled in front of my computer studying the floorplans Ben had emailed. He said he’d stop by this morning. I was beginning to understand what he’d said about how difficult it was to get a good feel for drawings on a small computer screen.
My phone rang. I jumped up to get it from the kitchen. It was Colin on the front desk. “Ben Nicolson is here. Shall I send him up?”
“Yes, please,” I said. I tidied some dishes away and headed down the hall. Ben’s face lit up the moment I opened the door.
He presented me with a contract. It was a preliminary arrangement covering sixty hours of his time.
“If we work well together and you like my work, we can extend the contract through construction.”
“I already like your work,” I said. “Do you have a pen?”
He pulled one from his pocket. I signed the contract on the coffee table, dated it and returned his pen. “I think we should celebrate.”
“What do you have in mind?”
I stood. “How about some crappy champagne? It’s been in my fridge for months.”
“How can I turn that down? You make it sound so appealing.” He followed me into the kitchen and opened the bottle. I dusted off two champagne flutes and he poured.
“To rebuilding the cottage,” I said, and tipped my glass into his.
We took our drinks out to the balcony. The breeze felt warm, like a kiss from the summer still to come. “Do you think it’ll be ready by Christmas?” I asked.
He laughed. “Not a chance. Maybe this time next year.”
I heard my phone ring and excused myself. It was Colin again. “James is on his way up.”
For a brief second my spirits soared and I allowed myself to think James might share in our celebration. I let the thought go. Wishful thinking was worse than foolish. It hurt.
I opened the door and invited James in. Though I craved his touch, he maintained a polite distance. He stared at the champagne flute in my hand. “What’s the occasion?”
“I’m rebuilding the cottage. Just hired an architect. Come in and I’ll introduce you.”
He stepped inside tentatively. “I didn’t know you were considering rebuilding.”
I paused. Had I not told him that either? “Mom suggested it after Molly’s baby shower. I didn’t give it more thought until Sebastian mentioned his architect. Thought he could help me sort out my options.”
“Sebastian?” James said.
“On the flight to the caucus.”
James followed me down the hall. Ben turned as we approached and I introduced them. James shook his hand and held it longer than necessary and I knew why: he’d be picking through Ben’s memories.
James declined a glass of champagne and asked Ben how he’d met Sebastian. An integrity check.
“His realtor recommended me. I did a walk-through with Sebastian and his wife at the Point Grey property before he bought it.”
Ben upended his flute. “I must go, and not because of the terrible champagne.” I smiled at his good-natured dig while he shook James’s hand. “Good to meet you, James.”
“I’ll walk you out,” I said, and we left James on the balcony.
When I returned, James had closed the balcony door and stood inside, stone-faced. “What are you doing?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I didn’t realize Sebastian had started a dating service.”
“Ben’s an architect, James. Nothing more.”
“He’s Sebastian’s minion.”
“Is that what you saw when you shook his hand?”
James stared at me with his hands on his hips. “I found the surrogate. She’s a womb for hire. Was implanted ten days ago. Has no idea whose baby she’s carrying. She’s paid in instalments plus expenses every trimester and gets a nice bonus for a safe delivery. Her house is now bugged as is her phone. I’ll keep close tabs on her.”
“And when the baby comes. What then?”
“Have you changed your mind about having kids?”
“I never said I didn’t want them, James. What the hell is happening to us?”
“You’re asking me? I’ve been gone ten minutes and you let Sebastian set you up on a date?”
“I’m not dating Ben. Can you say the same about Grace?”
“Grace is a colleague. But maybe I should date her. At least she’s no one’s puppet.” He might as well have slapped me across the face. His nostrils flared. He held up his hands. “You’re not wearing my earrings. You changed the locks. You didn’t need a sledgehammer, Emelynn. I got the message.”
“I’m not sending a message and I’m no one’s fucking puppet. Ben is not a date. He’s an architect. If you looked at his drawings you’d see that. The locks were changed because I had a break-in, and I took the earrings out because you left me, or maybe you just cut off communication. How the hell would I know the difference! And how long do you think I should sit around and wait for you to pick up a phone?”
“Ten minutes would have been nice.”
“The caucus was ten days ago. Have you changed your mind about the decision I made?”
“No.”
“Then I guess none of this matters, does it?”
He stormed past me. I watched him leave and didn’t have a word to say to stop him. He thought I’d chosen the Tribunal seat over him, when it was never an either-or decision.
I felt gutted. I dropped to the sofa and couldn’t even muster tears. It was finally sinking in. It was over. I realized then that I’d felt gutted since the day of the caucus, when he’d left me. I loved him, but I had to concede that maybe that cheesy line about love not always being enough had some merit.
When Mom returned, I hadn’t moved from the sofa. I donned a smile mask just like hers and asked how her session had gone. She sounded subdued, distracted. She excused herself and went to her room. I dragged out the vacuum and started on the floors.
The condo sparkled by the time I propped my phone against the lamp and fell into bed, but the pain of losing James refused to subside. He’d left a wound too raw to touch, one that required more than time to heal. I retrieved my computer and composed an email to him. It was a goodbye, an apology and an explanation he wouldn’t accept but one I had to express. He and I might be done, but I couldn’t let it go without telling him that I hadn’t chosen the Tribunal over him. That I understood his perspective, how much he and his family loathed the Tribunal I was now a member of. I signed it with love and pressed send. Tomorrow, I’d courier the earrings back to him. He’d want them one day for whoever replaced me.
––––––––
MORNING STARTED EARLIER than expected with a phone call from Sam.
“Mansfield’s found something. They’re prepping the sub now.”
I jumped out of bed and woke Mom. We sat in our robes at the kitchen island with my phone between us, waiting for Sam’s next update. We burned through a pot of coffee and enough banal conversation to bore us both stiff.
I decided to tell Mom about James; get it over with. “James came by yesterday,” I said. “If I wasn’t sure before, I am now. We’re done.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s going to make this baby business a lot more complicated.”
“You’ll work it out.”
“Never thought I’d be a mom in my twenties, let alone a single mom.”
“You’ve got me. I’ll be here to help.”
“Thanks. You don’t happen to know where the switch is that I can flip to stop thinking about him, do you?”
The phone rang. I put Sam on speaker and Mom and I leaned in. “They found it. The call letters appear to match. They’re photographing the fuselage for analysis.”
“What do you mean by the call letters appear to match?”
“The tail section was separated from the main fuselage. The call letters were severed.”
“Do they have a preliminary finding?” Mom asked.
“They’re not speculating, or at least not sharing it with me. They’re back in the air with the drones looking for the tail section. It could be a while.”
“Where was it found?” Mom asked.
“In their secondary search grid. Northeast of their original estimate. I’ll email you the coordinates.”
“Why was the plane outside of the original grid?”
“Mansfield suggested it could have been a blip in the weather, or drift.”
“Did they . . . were there . . . any bodies?” I asked.
“No. It could be a while before they find the rest of the wreckage. I’ll be in touch.”
Mom and I took turns showering so we could babysit the phone. I popped bagels in the toaster. “Do you think Sam meant hours or days when he said it could be a while?”
My other phone rang from down in my bedroom. I raced to get it. It was Sebastian.
“Did I interrupt something? You sound out of breath,” he said.
“No. I ran for the phone is all.” The two-phone shuffle was getting old. “What’s up?”
“I spoke with Ben earlier,” he said. “You made a good choice.”
Though I didn’t want to, I heard his words through James’s puppet filter. “He did a good job on some rough sketches. Our contract is only for some preliminary work.”
“That’s wise,” Sebastian said. “You should probably go through a tender process for the construction. Might get a better price.”
I processed Sebastian’s words. If Ben were Sebastian’s minion, as James had suggested, Sebastian would be pushing him onto me, not suggesting I consider others.
Sebastian continued. “Ben tells me he met James. Does that mean you two have worked things out?”
“James came by to tell me about the surrogate.”
“Yes. The final loose end. I’m sure finding her is a relief to both of you.”
“Relief? I suppose, but it’s a long way from over.”
He didn’t argue. After we hung up, I decided I’d give Sebastian my new number the next time I talked to him and put an end to the two-phone shuffle.
At dinnertime, Sam called back. We had him on speakerphone. “They found the tail section. I’m sorry to say it, but you were right, Laura. Mansfield’s expert says there is no doubt. The plane was blown apart from the inside. The detonation severed the tail section. That’s where the luggage was stowed. The explosives were likely in with the baggage.”
Mom and I sat in numb silence.
“You two okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I just . . . I can’t believe it.”
“I can,” Mom said.
“Sam, how long until Mansfield can get us a written report?” I asked.
“I’ll check into it. You all right, Emelynn?”
“No. Has your research turned up anything else?”
“Nothing that changes my opinion. It was either Jolene or someone who had an interest in the men Jolene was involved with.”
“Why are you two still saying someone?” Mom said. “We know full well who’s responsible. Mason and Stuart Reynolds.”
“Get the written report to us as soon as you can,” I said. “I want to see the evidence for myself.”
After we hung up, Mom stared me down. “You made me a promise.”
“I know. I—I need to see that report.”
I retreated to my room to escape her scrutiny. The solitude didn’t help. What I needed was someone to talk to. Someone who understood the stakes. But I didn’t want to talk over the phone. The moment it was full dark, I donned my flying gear.
Mom looked me up and down when she saw me. “Going somewhere?”
“To see Sebastian. Try to get some perspective.”
“I know this is the worst possible outcome, Emelynn. And I’m truly sorry.”
“Don’t be. This result is not what I wanted, but knowing the truth is better than fooling myself. I’ll do what needs to be done. Just give me some time, would you?”
I started to leave and stopped myself.
“What is it?” Mom asked.
“There’s something else you need to know,” I said. “The break-in here wasn’t just a B&E. Someone poisoned the milk in the fridge.”
Alarm registered on Mom’s face. “Is that why there’s a police car parked outside day and night?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d noticed. “Yes. But I think whoever did it is one of us.”
“A ghost?” Mom said, shifting to the edge of her seat.
“No, a Flier. If they show up on the rooftop, the camera up there will send a signal to my phone,” I said, holding up the phone. “I’ll call you right away. And if I do, leave the condo immediately.”
She nodded and stood, straightening her shoulders. I admired her bravery in light of what she’d been through. I hugged her then headed down the hall and ghosted. Up on the roof, I got my bearings and flew to Sebastian’s Point Grey neighbourhood. I landed in deep shadows adjacent to one of his neighbour’s eight-foot hedges and texted him my new phone number knowing he wouldn’t answer an unknown caller.
He called right away. “Why the new number? What’s going on?”
“Something’s come up. I need to talk to you.”
“We’re having a dinner party. Can it wait?”
“No. My father’s plane wreckage has been found. It wasn’t an accident.”
The silence on the other end of the phone told me he understood the implication. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hadn’t realized the investigation had been reopened.”
“It wasn’t. It was a private search.”
“You?”
“I had my reasons. I need to talk to you. May I come over?”
“Yes. Give me ten minutes.”
I hung up and walked the half block to Sebastian’s home. The modern glass-and-concrete structure was the polar opposite of the charming wood-and-stone Craftsman model that Ben had suggested for me. It occurred to me that the differences were reflected in our personalities as well.
At the appointed time, I rounded Sebastian’s driveway and walked down the path to his door. He was waiting for me and opened it before I raised my hand to knock. He put his finger to his lips and ushered me down a marble hallway and into the library, where we’d met on another occasion. He snicked the door closed and walked to the far end of the room. I followed.
“Kimberley and our guests are in the dining room. I’ve excused myself, but I mustn’t take too long. Tell me what’s happened.”
I told him everything: my father’s dire warning, Sam’s discovery of Jolene’s dead lovers, the hiring of Mansfield and finally, their determination that Dad’s plane had been blown up. He didn’t interrupt but checked the time more than once. When I’d finished, Sebastian walked away with his hands on his hips and stood at a distance staring at the floor. After a moment’s contemplation, he dropped his hands to his sides and returned.
“Do you have proof of the sabotage?”
“Mansfield is preparing a report. I haven’t seen it yet.”
“And you think one of the Reynoldses is responsible?”
“Or Jolene. But I don’t think she would have hurt Dad. She loved him.”
“I agree. Jolene didn’t have it in her to hurt anyone. Stuart and Mason, however? Both are highly trained. Powerful. They were both oddly protective of Jolene. Treated her like she was made of glass. I don’t like to think ill of them, but they are the most likely suspects.” He crossed his arms and drummed his fingers on his biceps. “Off the top of my head, I couldn’t tell you which one of them was on the Tribunal at the time of your father’s accident, or which family was leading it, but I can find out. If the Tribunal was involved, there would have been a vote. The Reynoldses may have misled the Tribunal, presented evidence that it was a case of someone learning about us or being careless with our secret. Either would have earned an assassination.”
My heart sank. Had Mason and Stuart known about my father’s research into the second lens in Fliers’ eyes all along? Had they used that to order his death? I fought off tears.
“Do you plan to take your evidence to the Tribunal?”
“Yes. I made a promise to my mother. My father didn’t deserve this.”
“Do you understand the repercussions of doing so? Does Laura? The penalty for an unsanctioned hit on a Tribunal member’s family is a life for a life.”
Tears welled. I blinked them away.
Sebastian took my hands in his. “Hold your mother off. It’s dangerous for her to get involved any further. I will help you bring this to the Tribunal, but it’s going to take a few days to put the pieces together. Can you manage your mother?”
“I think so.”
“Good.”
The door clicked open. Kimberley called Sebastian’s name and poked her head inside. Her eyes opened wide. She slipped inside and shut the door.
“I hadn’t realized Emelynn had joined us,” she said, staring at our hands. Icicles clung to her words.
Sebastian squeezed my hands before he let go. “We’ll sort this out,” he said, and turned to his wife. “Couldn’t be helped.”
Kimberley pinched her lips. “Our company is asking for you.”
“Emelynn was just leaving,” Sebastian said. “I’ll be but a minute. Please let them know I’ll be right there.”
Kimberley turned on her heel and stomped out.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to offend her,” I said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“Kimberley is temperamental. She’ll be fine. Let me walk you out.”
He opened the library door and I stepped out ahead of him. We heard a toilet flush nearby and a man emerged from a door further down the hall. He spotted us. Sebastian stiffened. The man tilted his head and made the decision to come our way rather than return to the party.
“We wondered what was keeping you,” the man said, staring at me from under a furrowed brow.
Sebastian sucked in a breath. “Wade Hofmann, this is Emelynn Taylor.”
Wade. I’d heard that name before, but I couldn’t remember where. I offered my hand.
Wade squinted as he shook it. “Taylor?” he repeated, as if my name were a curiosity.
“Have we met?” I asked. “You look familiar to me.” Something about his face stirred an unsettling memory I couldn’t quite grasp.
“We haven’t met. But I’ve seen you.” He flashed a flirty smile despite being older than my father would have been. “I saw you at the caucus.” I’d met a lot of people at the caucus.
“Emelynn was on her way out,” Sebastian said.
“Then I won’t keep you. Nice to meet you, Emelynn,” Wade said, and his gaze flicked to Sebastian before he turned back the other way. So, Wade was one of us. I wondered if he’d checked in with Avery, which was customary.
On the flagstone outside the front door, Sebastian assured me that he would call the moment he was ready to move forward.
I walked back to the road and turned into the shadows then disappeared into the tree canopy. I flew straight out to the Pacific and took a long, circuitous route home. As the wind tugged at my hair, I tried to reconcile the different versions of Mason and Stuart: supportive uncle, nurturing grandfather, calculating murderers. They were puzzle pieces that would never fit together. I felt their love. I felt the love they had for my father. How could I have felt that if it wasn’t real?
I remembered the night I’d met Mason. Even then, it had felt as if he were guiding me. Sure, I’d known he could be deceptive: planting a bug in the crystal case he’d given me, keeping secrets about his family’s rocky relationship with Jolene and, most recently, setting me up to wear black at the caucus. But was it malicious? And Stuart supported him at every turn. What did that say about Stuart?
What did it say about me that I could be so completely taken in? And yet I still couldn’t harden my heart to either one of them. How long would I live in denial? How long until it sunk in?
Sebastian was right about one thing though. Mason and Stuart were Tribunal, the strongest of our kind, skilled and powerful. They’d be dangerous when they learned about Sam’s research and Mansfield’s discovery. I hated to think what would happen when I dropped that bomb at the feet of the Tribunal.
Mom had waited up for me. “What did Sebastian have to say?”
“Not a lot. Murder doesn’t shock him quite as much as it does the rest of the population. But he did offer to find out who the Tribunal players were at the time of Dad’s accident.” I caught myself. Dad’s accident. “Dad’s murder,” I said, correcting myself.
“That won’t change the outcome.”
“No, it won’t, but I want to know the names of every single person who was involved. If I’m going to avenge Dad’s murder, it won’t be in half measures.”
“It pains me to hear you talk like that. You sound like one of them.”
“I am one of them.”
