53

PONTA DELGADA

Sean took a deep breath before he phoned Jon.

“So you definitely didn’t jump off a bridge,” Jon said in his usual unruffled manner. “I told Elizabeth there was no way. That wasn’t you. She was frantic.”

Elizabeth, frantic? About me?

“I’m not going to ask where you’ve been—or why,” Jon added. “But you’ve had a lot of other people frantic too, including your sister.”

Remorse flooded Sean again. “I, uh, needed a little time away.”

“Nice line, but I’m not buying it. Tell me you’re on your way home to face the music.”

“Yes, as soon as I can get there. Looks like tomorrow.”

“And you’re not going to call them until then, are you? You’re just going to show up?”

“I have things to tell them that I need to say in person,” Sean explained. “But I called Elizabeth. I also need to say something to you.”

The newsroom noise faded into the background as if Jon was moving to another room.

“I’m listening,” Jon said.

“Remember the last time we talked? When you said you wanted to pursue Elizabeth, and I said that was fine with me?”

“Sure do, but—”

“Wait. Let me get this out. It isn’t fine. When we were on board the Cantor, I realized something but didn’t have the courage to act.” He paused, knowing his next words might irrevocably alter his friendship with Jon. “I love Elizabeth and have for some time. But I will never act on that love, if you feel that way about her—”

“Sean—”

“Shut up, man.” Sean paced the hotel room. “It’s hard enough to get this out without you interrupting. I recently learned something about myself, and that’s why it’s so important I explain this to you now. I refuse to make the same mistake that someone else did. Betray the two friends most important to me in the world.”

“Okay, now you shut up,” Jon retorted. “Because you’re not making sense. But there’s something you don’t know since you’ve taken your trip to . . . well, wherever you are. When Elizabeth thought you might be dead, she was a mess. She said her last words to you weren’t kind. Evidently you two got in an argument.”

“Yeah, I was stupid—”

“Hey, don’t want to know why. That’s between you and her. I could have told her at that point that I was interested in her. But I kept hearing this little voice in my head saying, ‘It’s not her. But you’ll know when you find her.’”

“Wait—you mean you’re not interested in Elizabeth?”

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Jon said more loudly. “Elizabeth is my friend. You’re my friend. I thought I might be interested, but when she thought you might be dead, I knew why the voice had told me to wait. She loves you, not me.”

Sean was stunned speechless.

Jon’s voice broke through the fog in Sean’s head. “Hello? You still on the planet?”

“You’re sure?” he managed.

“Of course I’m sure. So when you get your miserable carcass back to New York and make things right with your family—good luck with that—you better get on the first flight to Elizabeth and make that declaration. Time’s a-wastin’.” Jon laughed.

“So you’re okay with it?”

“Absolutely.” The single word rang with Jon’s usual tone and confidence.

Sean sighed. “I’m so glad.”

“There’s one thing I’m not okay with, though.” Jon chuckled.

Sean frowned. “What’s that?”

“Standing any longer in the bathroom to have this conversation. It’s the only quiet place to talk around here.”

NEAR CORVO

The man peered out the jet’s window as the lush island of Corvo came into view. His phone rang.

He listened briefly, then hung up.

So, Sarah Worthington would be nominated as attorney general. The vetting would be a brutal process, with no certainty that she’d be confirmed by the Senate. The Worthington name carried both prestige and political baggage, even though no family member had ever cashed in their deep political and financial chips for a seat in the Oval Office. Senators on both sides of the aisle would praise and condemn her, for their own reasons.

The man stroked his lip. Suddenly the reason for the sudden promotion became clear.

It’s Frank Stapleton, isn’t it? He’s the power broker. Stapleton had convinced Spencer he had to buy Sarah off. What did she know? Or was this solely an attempt to end her passionate search for connections on the AF bombing?

Word had reached the man that Darcy Wiggins, a DHS veteran not known for giving up, and New York Times reporter Jon Gillibrand had teamed up with Sarah to research the case about the Polar Bear Bomber. The man frowned. Anyone else in the know his contact had talked to seemed to think the case was dead, just like the bomber. End of story. Why then did Sarah and her colleagues continue to pursue it so relentlessly?

And why was Stapleton working so hard to distract her? What did Stapleton, AF, and Spencer have to lose besides a little potential embarrassment in the media? Sure, they were connected to the Arctic crisis and thus were smarting. But it wouldn’t take long for the press to refocus all the heat on the CEO, Eric Sandstrom. He’d be the scapegoat, and AF and the board would simply look caught in the middle of a dirty-dealing CEO.

The man scowled. So why would they pull so many strings to get a hot young DOJ attorney from one of the most prominent families in America off the case?

Something more was brewing. And it had to be big. The man wouldn’t rest until he ferreted out what it was.

But first things first. Soon they’d land on Corvo. With any luck, they’d be able to finish the mission that had taken them to an archipelago of tiny islands that many hadn’t even heard of out in the Atlantic Ocean.