Hawk sat tied to a kitchen chair in an abandoned log cabin not far from Angel View. Reza had parked his truck down the road from the lodge and had forced Hawk at gunpoint to walk with him to the truck, and then to drive up here.
Reza set the flashlight on the table so that the beam of light was pointed toward the ceiling and lit the room. The place had to be a hundred years old. It was hard to tell how long it had been since anyone had stayed there. Thick dust covered the table and chairs. Ornately spun cobwebs connected the stove and sink. And the charred smell from the fireplace permeated the humid night air.
Reza raised a window halfway, but it seemed to be stuck. He brushed his hands together, then breezed past Hawk, pushed open the screen door, and walked out to his truck. He came back with a roll of paper towels, a bottle of cleaner, and a whisk broom.
He brushed the dust off the table with the whisk broom, sprayed cleaner on the tabletop, then wiped off the grime. He grabbed one of the chairs and brushed, sprayed, and wiped the seat and back. He repeated the process and seemed satisfied.
Reza took the gun out of his waistband and set it on the table, then pulled out the clean chair and turned it backward, straddled it, and sat with his arms resting on the back. “Okay. Now we will talk.”
Hawk nodded.
“Where is Abrisham?” Reza said.
“Who?”
“Abrisham,” he said. “Don’t pretend you don’t know her. Where is she?”
Hawk’s heart pounded so hard he could hardly breathe. This had to be the bounty hunter. How could Romo have been so wrong? After all he had done to help the FBI, he was going to end up tortured and murdered after all. “I–I don’t know anyone with that name.”
“You do not lie to me! I know it was you. At her big beautiful house up there on the mountain.”
All Hawk could think to do was stall the inevitable. “I don’t know anyone named … whatever name you said. I swear.”
“I said Ab-Ree-Shum. You know her. You lie badly. You own a Jeep? With a gold cross hanging from the rearview mirror? Arkansas license plate HAWKTOURS?”
“Yes. But I don’t know any woman by the name you said.”
“I see.” Reza’s tone was mocking. “So it is your little brother who is the lady’s man. He stole your keys and drove your Jeep. Maybe I should go back and punish him?”
“What is it you want from me?”
Reza got up from his chair and shoved it with his foot. “The truth!” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and held up a picture. “You know her. Say it.”
Hawk’s heart sank. “I knew her by the name Kennedy Taylor.”
Reza shook his head. “No. Her name is Abrisham Kermani.”
“She told me it was Kennedy Taylor.”
“Why would she lie? Maybe you are the one who is lying.” Reza grabbed the gun, cocked it, and pressed the barrel to Hawk’s forehead.
“I’m telling the truth, I swear,” Hawk said, perspiration dripping down his temples. “I met her less than two months ago in the parking lot of a grocery store. The bottom had fallen out of her sack and groceries were all over the ground. I helped her pick them up. She told me her name was Kennedy Taylor, that she was new here and hadn’t made any friends yet. She seemed very nice and a little lonely, so I asked her if she would like to ride in my Jeep sometime.”
“I don’t believe you,” Reza said.
“I’m telling the truth. I did take her on a Jeep ride and we became friends. She told me she inherited a fortune from her parents. That they were both dead. That she came here to start a new life.”
Reza put the gun on the table and straddled the chair again, his arms folded on the back. “She lied to you.”
“How do you know that?” Who are you? You’re not the bounty hunter.
“Because I met her when she was a senior at Baumar International Girls School in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I was a freshman at MIT. Her mother and father owned a restaurant in Budapest but let her attend Baumar because she had an aunt and uncle in Cambridge who promised to look out for her. We fell in love. She promised to marry me.”
“Why didn’t she?”
Reza rested his chin on his arms and seemed miles away. “She was everything to me. Her name, Abrisham, is Persian. It means ‘silk.’ Her parents gave her this name because she had a head full of dark, silky hair when she was born.” Reza lifted his gaze and looked at Hawk. “We were both proud to be Persian. I think that is what drew us together. She had met my parents, who loved her. She did not want me to meet her aunt and uncle. Because of 9/11, they forbade her to make any reference to her Persian heritage. They said it was irrelevant, that she was American. I was so honored when she told me her parents were coming to America that summer and wanted to meet me.”
“So did you meet them?” Hawk said.
Reza shook his head. “No. Sadly. Abrisham stopped taking my calls. I finally went to her aunt and uncle and they told me she did not love me or want to marry me, that she was too kind to face me. They were lying. I could tell. But I knew the truth of our love, and I begged them not to keep us apart. They threatened to take out a restraining order if I did not leave them alone. What could I do?”
“Why are you here?” Hawk said. “That was five years ago.”
“I will tell you. I got a phone call last week. It was a man’s voice. He spoke to me in Farsi. He said he was a friend of Abrisham’s father, Dalir, and he knew where Abrisham was living. He said it was not her choice to leave Cambridge five years ago, that not even her aunt and uncle knew where she was, and she very much would like to see me and explain everything. He gave me her address and said if I wanted to see her, I should go right away and tell no one. Of course, I was shocked. I had no idea if this stranger was telling me the truth. But I thought it over. I still loved her. I had to take a chance.”
“So you came here looking for her?”
“Yes.” Reza sat up straight. “After many hours of driving, I arrived at her home around ten Friday morning, anticipating that Abrisham would be overjoyed to see me and would greet me with warmth and affection. When I rang her doorbell, holding a dozen fragrant red roses, my heart was going crazy, like old times. When the door finally opened, her beauty took my breath away.”
Hawk wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any more. He had no right to feel jealous, but he did.
“And you know what she said to me? The one she had loved, the one she promised to marry? She drew in a breath and put her hands on her heart and said, ‘You must be from Foggy Ridge Floral. And those beautiful roses can only be from my beloved Hawk.’ I said, ‘No, Abrisham, they are from me, Reza. Do you not recognize the man you promised to marry?’”
“Good grief. How did she answer?” Hawk didn’t know who he felt sorrier for, Abrisham or Reza.
“I don’t think she had even looked at me until then,” Reza said. “She got this horrified, broken expression on her face, like she knew I had discovered something shameful she did not want me to know. But I knew. Right then. She had given herself to you. That she loved you.” Reza turned his head and looked into Hawk’s eyes. He picked up the gun and held it in his hands. “So I asked myself. Who is this friend of Dalir Kermani that he sent me here to break my heart all over again? I rack my brain, but I do not know. Who does something this cruel?”
“I’m so sorry,” Hawk said. “I can’t imagine. Abrisham never talked about herself. I never knew she had been engaged. I didn’t even know her real name. To me, she was Kennedy Taylor.”
“Did you love her?” Reza said, his eyes welled with tears.
“Yes, but not the way you loved her.”
Reza turned the gun on Hawk. “Now back to my question. Where is Abrisham? I left her house on Friday morning a broken man. I came Saturday morning to apologize for surprising her, and your Jeep was parked in her driveway. I saw the license plate. I wanted to ring the bell, but I could not bear it. I drove around and came back. You were still there. I drove around longer and came back. But you were still there. I waited down the block. But you did not leave. I knew what you were doing! My heart was breaking in a thousand pieces. I would never have behaved this way with her, the woman I vowed to marry.”
Hawk felt ashamed. Neither had he with Laura Lynn.
“So I returned on Sunday, hoping to see her face once more before I drove home. And there was a for-sale sign in the yard. The drapes were open, so I looked inside, and there was no furniture at all. Tell me, where did she go?”
Hawk shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. She just up and left without saying good-bye. I was as shocked as you were.” I can’t tell him she’s dead. He’ll have questions I don’t have answers to.
A tear rolled down Reza’s face. “I lost her not only once, but two times. I will never know her the way you knew her.”
Hawk was silent. What could he say?
“It is you she loves. You!” Reza stood and pushed the chair away. “How could you take advantage of her innocence? Tell me!”
Hawk just assumed he wasn’t the first man she had been with, but he didn’t dare say that, for fear of dishonoring her and enraging Reza further.
“I am waiting for an answer.” Reza pushed the barrel of the gun into Hawk’s chest.
“I–I was taken with her beauty,” Hawk said. “Unlike you, I’m a weak man.”
“You are ruled by lust. No respect for what is sacred.”
Hawk blinked the sweat from his eyes. “Please understand that I didn’t know she had ever been engaged or that she left you without a good-bye. All this is news to me. I didn’t even know of her Persian heritage. As far as I knew, she was a lovely American woman who was lonely and needed a friend.”
Reza smiled derisively. “Oh, I am sure you could hardly wait to be her friend. So many men want to be her friend. Well, your friendship is cheap! It is immoral! She was so much better than this. I am the only man who honored her. Who knew what was in her heart.”
“I admired Kenn— Abrisham,” Hawk said. “She was one of the most giving, unselfish women I’ve ever known. Her heart spoke volumes without her ever saying a word. I loved that about her. I miss her too.”
Reza eyes brimmed with tears. He lowered the gun and started pacing again.
“I cannot hear this from you. Her heart spoke without words when she realized it was me, Reza, standing at her door. It said she was ashamed for me to know she had been with you.”
“Maybe not,” Hawk said. “Maybe she was ashamed for leaving Cambridge without any explanation. Maybe she was ashamed she never contacted you.”
“Maybe this. Maybe that.” Reza backhanded Hawk across the face. “All is moot now. Abrisham is gone again. She does not want me to find her. And I do not want to live without her. And you … why should you live? You took from me the only thing I loved.”
“Reza, please,” Hawk said. “Let’s discuss this like reasonable men. How can you blame me when I knew nothing about any of this? I never hurt Abrisham. I cared about her.”
“Did you? Then why did you not marry her?” Reza pressed the gun to Hawk’s forehead. “I think you used her. It was obvious to me she loved you. You had no intention of marrying her as long as she welcomed you into her bed. How could you treat her this way?”
“Reza, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Don’t hate me for that. You must have felt the same way.”
“Oh, I did. I still do. But it means nothing now. It is you she loves. I saw it in her face. She is not the Abrisham I loved.”
“Of course she is,” Hawk said. “But five years is a long time. She’s matured. We all grow and evolve into better versions of ourselves.”
Reza stepped back, his face turning red and then almost purple. He took the butt of his gun and hit Hawk over his right eye. “Who are you to judge what is better? There is more to love than pleasure! So much more!”
Hawk closed his aching eye, hoping to keep the blood out. It was useless to try to reason with Reza. His anger had escalated to dangerous. Lord, I’m so sorry I’ve hurt this man. How many times do I have to suffer the consequences of my relationship with Kennedy? Maybe dying is the final blow. Unless You help me, he is going to kill me and himself.