THOUGH I WATCHED the movie, I didn’t see it. Mom stood and stretched when the credits rolled up, and I reached for the controls. I remember pecking Mom on the cheek and walking to my bedroom, closing the door. I tasted toothpaste, so I must have brushed my teeth. I stared at the ceiling above the bed for a long time.
Typhoid Mary had left the building. The threat of death by Redeemer no longer dogged me or cursed those close to me. I had my life back, and ICO’s grip on my freedom was fading fast. I could reach out to the covey again, and Molly. Maybe Eden would come for a visit. With each new revelation, my smile grew. I could breathe again. When I visited Avery, neither of us would worry what might follow.
The only precautions I’d have to take were the same ones any other Flier or Ghost would take.
The spinning plates were slowing down.
When morning broke, fresh excitement bubbled up in me. I leapt out of bed, rushed to the bathroom and practically skipped to the kitchen to make coffee. Neither the grey day nor the drizzle outside dampened my spirits. In fact, if I didn’t get out for a run and bleed off some of this energy, I’d be keyed up all day. I dressed, ate a granola bar and headed downstairs.
This time I consciously chose my route and ran one of the loops around UBC. I slowed at the children’s park. It was deserted. Water pooled beneath the sling swings and dotted the painted bench the mothers usually occupied. How was Sebastian’s search for my eggs going? I wondered.
I sat on a lower rung of the monkey bars and dialled Sam. I told him what I’d learned about the CIA director, but I kept Mason’s confidence about the last Redeemer.
“This CIA guy tapped Beale but not me? I gotta say, I’m feeling a little left out.” Sam laughed, and it sounded a lot like relief. “Did Sebastian say what Cain’s role was in this?”
“Only that Cain knew ICO personnel had been involved and that he’s actively investigating. Sebastian seems to have access to the investigation.”
“Did anyone mention whether Cain knew I’d been holding back?”
“No. Your name didn’t come up. And believe me, that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah. But I’d sure like to know if Cain’s aware I’ve been holding back, or what I’ve been holding back.”
Mom was dressed and in the living room with a coffee when I emerged from the shower.
“You were up early this morning,” she said, looking up from her iPad.
I poured another coffee, refilled hers and she read me the morning headlines from the CBC Brief in her inbox.
Sharing the news over a coffee—this was how mornings should be. We were back to normal. It gave me the courage to ask her if she’d called off her PI.
Mom kept her eyes on the iPad. “He hasn’t returned my call.”
“Call him again. Please.”
“Sure,” Mom said, and before I could press the issue, my phone rang.
“Turn on CNN,” Sam said. “Right now.”
At the urgency in his voice, I lurched to the edge of my seat and grabbed the controller.
“What is it?” my mother asked.
The screen lit up with footage from a helicopter. The crawl at the bottom identified a massive explosion and possible terrorist attack in California. Charred bits of debris were strewn over a large area.
Breaking News flashed on the screen, and the feed cut to an announcer—but I didn’t hear her. I stared in disbelief at the pristine roadside sign for Vector Labs to her right and the columns of smoke still rising from its ruins behind her.
I raised the phone to my ear. “I’ll call you back.” I hung up on Sam’s protests and immediately dialled James. He didn’t pick up.
I dialled Stuart. It went to voice mail. I dropped my hand to my lap. One thought took up all the space in my head: Were they hurt?
I dialled Mason. No answer.
“Isn’t Vector Labs the company you mentioned a few days ago?” Mom asked. “The one you’d gotten some calls from?”
My phone rang. I willed it to be James. It was Sam. “Get out. Take your laptop and your phone and get out of there.”
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet, but if someone at the CIA or inside ICO is cleaning up, you’ll be on their list. Leave your tracker behind. I’ve dispatched a car to your service entrance. Go. Now!”
Panic quickened my pulse. I hung up and turned to Mom.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
“Sam has sent a car for us. We have to go.”
“Go where?”
I stood and inhaled a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work. “I don’t know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Take your phone, your iPad, some clothes. Hurry. Meet me at the door in two minutes.”
I raced down the hall to my room knowing I would never forget the look of terror on my mother’s face.
I grabbed my bag, threw in some clothes and my laptop and tossed the bracelet toward my pillow. When I arrived at the door, Mom wasn’t there. I ran to her room. She’d pulled out her suitcase and was scrambling to fold the clothes that lay scattered on the bed.
“There’s no time.” I jammed the garments in and closed the lid. She winced as I yanked the zippers closed. “Come on. We gotta go.” I grabbed her suitcase and ran back to the door. Mom sprinted behind me, struggling into her jacket with her purse in her hand.
I locked the door and turned to find Mom punching the elevator button. “Stairs,” I said, and passed her, hurrying to the stairwell door. We ran down five flights then cut back into the building and called the elevator.
Sweat beaded Mom’s forehead. “It’ll be all right,” I said, taking a stab at reassuring her.
From the underground parkade, we took a little-used service hall. I cracked open the door. A grey unmarked waited for us. Roberta Montgomery sat behind the wheel. I opened the back door and Mom crawled in. I tossed in our bags and followed her.
“How about you ladies duck down,” Roberta said, as she shoulder checked and calmly pulled out around the garbage dumpsters. Roberta had helped hunt down Carson Manse. I hadn’t seen her in six months, but she hadn’t changed—still wore a suit and no-nonsense short hair. Mom and I folded over our bags.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’m still awaiting word. Until then, we’re on a scenic tour, and I’ll make sure no one’s tagging along.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“Just like old times.”
“I didn’t think Sam worked with your team anymore.”
“Not since he got kicked upstairs, but he has friends. We’ve got each other’s backs.”
“Thank god for that. Mom, this is Roberta Montgomery. Roberta, Laura Aberfoyle.”
“Pleased to meet you, Laura.”
“You too,” Mom squeaked, and she reached for my hand. I held on tight, trying desperately not to think about why James hadn’t picked up.
Roberta’s running commentary kept us abreast of our route around UBC. She circled between East Mall and West Mall and finally made her way onto Northwest Marine Drive. She left the university’s grounds and passed Spanish Banks. When she reached Locarno Beach, she pulled into the parking area and turned off the engine. “You can sit up. No one followed.”
My mother tidied her hair as she darted furtive glances out the windows. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Roberta glanced at me in the rear-view mirror. I answered. “I can’t, Mom. Not until I talk with Sam.”
Mom pursed her lips. I knew she wasn’t happy with my answer, but I also knew she wouldn’t cause a scene in front of Roberta.
Roberta’s attention was drawn to a beep from her onboard computer. She reached for the ignition. “We have an address,” she said, and pulled out.
We drove east to Cambie Street and then south to Twelfth Avenue. She crossed Kingsway and zigzagged through an old neighbourhood in Kensington. We slowed to a crawl in front of a row of three Vancouver Special homes then turned into the back lane. The garage door of the middle two-storey stuccoed home was open. We pulled in and the door trundled down behind us.
Roberta released the door locks and got out then opened the door for my mother. The stretch of Roberta’s arm pulled her jacket aside, exposing her gun and the shield she wore on her hip. Mom was staring at her hardware when I scrambled out the other side. The interior door to the house opened, and I froze until Dino Martinez stepped out.
“Let me help you with that,” Dino said, lumbering over to grab my mom’s suitcase. Dino was as big as ever; his belly was always first into a room.
“Mom, Dino Martinez. Dino, this is my mom, Laura Aberfoyle.” He nodded his greeting and Mom mumbled something I didn’t catch. Roberta led the way inside and Dino locked the interior door behind us.
I’d never been inside one of these 1960s-era Vancouver Specials. We walked the length of the house and up the stairs. Dino dropped Mom’s suitcase in the kitchen.
“What is this place?” Mom asked.
“It’s a safe house,” Roberta said. “No one but us and Jordan know you’re here.”
Dino reached for his phone. “It’s Jordan. He’s at the door. Take them into the living room,” he said, as he pulled his gun from its holster. Alarmed, my mother grabbed my arm and Roberta ushered us around the corner. Dino headed down the stairs to the landing and moments later, I heard Sam’s voice.
Sam and Dino thundered up the stairs, Dino with a paper grocery bag in his arms. Sam looked to me and then my mom. He halted. “Laura, nice to see you again. Emelynn? A word.” He turned and headed toward the back of the house. I rushed to follow.
He stepped into a bedroom at the end of the hall and closed the door behind me. “Any word from Moss?”
“No answer,” I said. “Same with Stuart. Same with Mason.”
“All of them?”
“I’m scared, Sam. After what we’ve just been through, there’s no way James wouldn’t return my call.”
“Goddamnit!”
“Anything from ICO?”
“Nothing.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “How much does your mom know?”
“I told her ages ago about the calls I received from Vector. She connected the dots right away when she saw the news coverage.”
“Does she know about ICO?”
“No. She thinks you’re still working on Manse’s missing accomplice.”
With his hands on his hips, Sam stared at his shoes. “We can work with that, but the less she knows, the easier it will be for us.”
I told myself it wouldn’t be a new lie, just a perpetuation of an old one. “All right. I’ll follow your lead.”
Back in the living room, Mom and Roberta were having a quiet conversation. Dino sat at a monitor in the kitchen watching feeds from security cameras around the house. Mom and Roberta looked up as Sam approached. He sat opposite Mom and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
“I’m sorry for all this. It’s just a precaution. You know about the explosion at Vector Labs?”
Mom nodded.
“It may well turn out to be an accident, but I thought it best to be proactive, just in case.”
“In case of what, Detective?”
“Call me Sam, please. Emelynn told us about the calls she received from Vector Labs. Given that we still haven’t apprehended Carson Manse’s associate, in the unlikely event the two are connected, we thought it best to get you both out of harm’s way.”
Mom frowned. “You think Manse’s associate found my daughter?”
“Until we know what caused that explosion, we’ll take every precaution.”
“How long until you know?”
“A day or two.” Sam stood. “Detectives Montgomery and Martinez are two of our best. You’ll be safe here.”
Mom thanked him and he addressed me. “I’ll check in later. Keep your phone on.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Walk me out,” Sam said. Neither Roberta nor Dino moved.
When we were out of earshot, Sam stopped. “I’ve got someone watching your building. If anyone tries to target you there, I’ll know.”
“What about you? If I’m a target, so are you.”
“That’s why I’m going back to the office. I doubt ICO or whoever this is will blow up the station, and the only other way they can get to me there is to arrest me, which would draw too much attention.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. Let me know the minute James calls.”
If he calls, I thought, fighting back the fear. “I will. Thanks, Sam. Be careful.”
I made us a dinner of sandwiches from the groceries Sam had brought. Afterwards, Roberta went to lie down so she could relieve Dino at midnight. Mom and I took up a game of rummy. Twice I phoned James from the bathroom. By nine o’clock, Mom and I gave up trying to play cards and each picked a bedroom.
With my phone in my hand, I curled onto my side and willed James to call. I dozed, and my dreams circled a drain to hell. I woke with a lurch at every unfamiliar creak of the house.
When my phone vibrated, I lurched awake once again. “Hello?”
“It’s James.”
Swamped with relief, I inhaled a ragged breath. “What happened? Where are you? Is Stuart with you? Why didn’t you call?”
“Hey, slow down. I’m okay, so is Stuart.”
“I can hardly hear you.”
“I’m in a hotel bathroom running the shower. Beale suspects. I couldn’t call. I think he’s using a listening device.”
“Did you do it?”
“Damn right. But I couldn’t have done it alone. Thanks to you, I didn’t have to.”
“Well thanks to you, Mom and I are at a safe house. My mom, James! You could have texted. Done something to warn me.”
“I’m sorry. We were on the fly. Still are, and Beale’s dogging me.”
“Are you in danger?”
“Not if I stay ahead of Beale.”
“Does he know it was you?”
“I can’t be sure. The day I left Cairabrae, he shoved a missing-person case down my throat. He’s been monitoring me ever since. Makes me wonder if he’s on to the fact that I know he betrayed me. But he can’t connect me to Vector. Every move I’ve made is in connection with the missing-person case. I gotta go. I’ll call when I can.”
“Stay safe,” I said, and hung up. I kept a cap on my anger, going over James’s explanation, convincing myself that he wouldn’t have put me and my mother through this trial without a good goddamn reason.
Sam didn’t put as much emphasis on James’s reasoning as he did his methods. “If Moss knows Beale suspects him, Moss will keep moving, at least until the cause of the explosion is determined. Looks like we’re going to find out how good Moss is,” Sam said, and warned me to stay put.
I couldn’t get back to sleep. Roberta was at the monitor when I left the bedroom. It was four o’clock in the morning. “Can I make you a coffee?” I asked.
Sam called again an hour later. “A body’s been found in the rubble,” he said. “It’s Fuente. They IDd him a few hours ago.”
My stomach sank. James hadn’t told me. Worse, he’d unknowingly jeopardized the Tribunal’s methodic plan of attack on ICO.
“Any talk of murder? Foul play?”
“None. The main blast occurred in the lab closest to Fuente’s office. He was the only casualty,” Sam said. “The employees who made it out said an alarm had gone off.”
“Has the cause of the explosion been identified yet?”
“Not definitively. The gas company repaired a leak a few weeks ago. Investigators are speculating a faulty repair.”
“When will we know for sure?”
“By the end of the day, I expect. Hang tight.”
“You too.” I hung up and pulled on my Pollyanna pants.
Dino relieved Roberta at six in the morning, and the waiting continued.
By the time Mom wandered out of her room, word of the casualty had hit the mainstream news outlets. The recent gas-line repair, however, had yet to come out, and the cause of the explosion was still fodder for endless speculation.
Stuart checked in at 8:00 a.m. Neither Dino nor my mom said a word as I retreated to my room and closed the door. “Are you in one piece?” I asked.
“I’m fine. Sorry to have worried you, my dear, but it couldn’t be helped.”
He filled in the details that James, in his rush to get off the phone, hadn’t mentioned. Maybe I was over-sensitive, but I couldn’t quite shake my disappointment that James hadn’t tried harder to get a message to me.
“Have you heard from Mason?” I asked.
“No, but I didn’t expect to. He was tied up yesterday with a disposal issue I’m sure you’re aware of.”
“Yes, I know. The last Redeemer. Politics hardly seems like a good enough reason to hold back that information from the coveys. The Redeemers have terrorized all of us.”
“Mason knows what he’s doing. Staying vigilant a little longer than strictly necessary will be seen as a wise precaution.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but then again, I wasn’t a politician. “Did you hear about the Tribunal’s meeting?”
“No. What happened?”
“I don’t think they’re going to like what you and James have been up to.” I told him about their plan for simultaneous elimination of the threat.
“Ah yes, best-laid plans and all that,” Stuart said, sounding rather more casual about it than I’d expected. “That explains Sebastian’s message.”
Stuart assured me he could handle Sebastian’s wrath. We hung up after I promised to keep him apprised of my whereabouts.
With my hand on the door handle, I paused, thinking about my mother. She was on the sofa out there, pale and frightened, pretending to read something on her iPad. A lifetime of lies lay between us. The lies had been simple in the first few years after Jolene gifted me. I like sitting in the dark. I tripped. I fell. After I moved back to BC, the lies had spun so far out of control that our relationship was now more lie than truth. I ached to strip away the lies, to go back in time and tell her about the day on the beach when Jolene changed my life forever. But that was impossible. The damage was done. All I could do was pray I could keep her safe—from me, my lies and from my world.
Shortly after five that evening, my prayers were answered: the explosion was deemed an accident and Fuente’s death, a tragic loss.