“Adria overheard her brother arrange a business transaction with James Lockheed, who we now know is your half uncle, Chang Ling.”
“He’s actually related to me? Sarita told me, but he doesn’t look Asian.”
“You’re right on that point. From what Geoff uncovered, Chang had eye and nose surgery at some point in the past, to anglicize his features.”
“Dad never spoke about his family,” Su-Lin mused. “I can’t believe Emma lived and worked in Mayo and I never saw her or even heard of her.”
“I must admit that part is remarkable. And you never saw her at Finklestein’s office?”
“I never went to his office. He always came to the house. I think he felt sorry for my mother and me. After Dad died and my mother started having problems, I kept pretty much to myself.” She concentrated on the napkin again, finding comfort in the familiar origami shapes.
“Here’s what we’ve pieced together. The treasury bonds were purchased by your father shortly after your parents moved to Mayo.”
“Where did he get the money?”
“When your dad lived on the West Coast, he received regular parcels from Vietnam.”
“There was money in the parcels?”
“Yep. His father was smuggling money out. We suspect that around five years after your father moved to the US, his father died. After he married your mother, Deshi Ling disappeared. He applied for a new Social Security number under the name of John Wayne Taylor, married your mother, and moved to Mayo.”
“He stole the money,” she asked, frowning. “But if his dad had died, it’s not really stealing, is it?”
“His half brother, Chang, didn’t see it that way. Put yourself in Chang’s place. He was earning the money in Vietnam. He obviously felt entitled to it.”
“How did he find out about the bonds?”
“Chang’s been searching for your father for years. He had all the information on your father’s real identity, Social Security numbers, et cetera. Your mother changed her will during the last month of her life. We know this because of papers filed in Mayo. Near as we can guess, somehow your father’s old Social Security number must have popped up.”
“And Chang found us from that?” she asked, her mind reeling.
“Do you know much about the Internet?”
“Not really,” Su-Lin answered. “Why?”
“I’ll skip all the technical stuff then. That search your lawyer did reached Chang in Thailand. He contacted Finklestein, told him he was your uncle, and flew to the US. Finklestein ran an identity check on Chang, who’d given him the name of a legitimate Hong Kong businessman. We think he entered the US before your mother died. Somehow, he managed to get her to go the bank and claim that first bond.”
“Did my mother have the bond in her possession?”
“We don’t know.”
“She must have. That’s why he offered to go through my mother’s things,” Su-Lin said, as pieces began to fit together. “He was looking for the bonds. But I still don’t understand how he got her to go with him to the bank before she died.”
“We’ll probably never know that either, but my guess is he doped her with the same stuff he had Casmir inject into you.” Rolan lifted a shoulder. “Did Chang give you any documents to sign?”
Her stomach did a series of tumbling dives; she squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I? I was so happy to not be alone in the world. It was so wonderful to have someone taking care of me.” She met his gaze. “I signed tons of legal papers.”
“We think one of them must have been a will, in which you left everything, including the treasury bonds, to him.”
“But I don’t have the bonds.” She knuckled her temple.
“That’s the thing, Su-Lin, you must have. At least Chang thinks you know where they are.”
“Why this trip? Why this whole elaborate ruse?” She picked up a decorative pillow and squeezed the soft down, needing some sort of contact with things tangible.
“This has all been carefully planned, Su-Lin. You didn’t just end up on the
Glory
.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Four years ago, a woman fell overboard during a cruise on the
Glory
.”
Su-Lin’s eyes widened.
“She washed up later. There was an investigation. Terry was cleared. But since he and the woman had been lovers and had had a public spat the night she disappeared, rumors have always dogged him.”
“He chose Terrence deliberately. He was going to kill me and throw me overboard, wasn’t he?” A surge of anger flattened her mouth.
“He planned to get rid of you, but not like that,” Rolan replied. “He didn’t want your body found. To cash the bonds, he’d have to prove his identity. If your body washed up, the bank would do a DNA test.”
“He’s behind my kidnapping, right?” When Rolan nodded, she asked, “Why? How would that help him?”
“Casmir’s orders from Chang were to kidnap you, drug you and keep you drugged, and deliver you to the captain of a Hong Kong fishing trawler in Marseilles. The Gypsies have been following you looking for an opportunity to snatch you since you arrived in France.”
“Adria too?” Her lungs refused to accept oxygen.
“They were all part of it, at first. The two sisters, Gitana and Adria, began to balk after you and Thomas gave them clothes and food.”
“Where did he plan to have me shipped?”
“Someplace where he could torture the location of the bonds out of you.” Rolan grimaced. “Probably rural Thailand. It’s a pretty lawless area.”
“And Emma? How does she fit into all this?”
He arched both eyebrows. “That one’s stymieing us. Obviously, she found out who Chang was. How she got him to agree to let her in on the scheme, we haven’t a clue.”
“Who drugged me the night of the masked ball?”
“Casmir was responsible for the welcome basket. Your uncle supplied it to him. His instructions were to leave it, watch until you’d passed out from the drugged chocolates, and then take you to Marseille.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Adria didn’t know about the basket, but she wanted to thank you for the food, so she left the bottle of absinthe for you. She’d overheard you and Thomas talking about it.”
“Why didn’t they kidnap me then?”
“Terry found you before Casmir returned.”
“Thank goodness,” she said. “If they’d kidnapped me that night, no one would ever have found me, would they?”
“Probably not.”
Another thought occurred to her, and she asked, “What happened to the welcome basket?”
“When Casmir did return, he found out you’d been taken to the hospital, so he took the evidence.”
“Your uncle and aunt had a solid alibi for that night in Grasse. We’re certain your uncle staged his chest pains.”
Su-Lin’s hands curled into fists, and she seethed. “Do you know how guilty I felt about that? It ate me up inside.”
“Solid planning. No one could have connected them to you. They had witnesses to prove they were in a hospital in Nice.”
“I’ll never understand how a teenage boy could be so cold and calculating,” Sarita said. “That boy’s headed for prison.”
“What teenage boy?”
“Casmir,” Sarita replied.
“Let me finish, honey.” Rolan lips curved as he shot his wife an amused glance. “She tends to be a tad on the overprotective side. Adria and Gitana decided not to go along with Casmir’s and Chang’s plans once they realized you’d probably be killed. But they dared not tell him that.”
“That Gypsy boy’s damned lucky. I really thought Terry would beat him within an inch of his life.” Sarita quirked one corner of her mouth. “I guess Adria got to him. What a feisty child.”
“You haven’t heard the latest, honey. Terry gave Casmir a choice -- jail or the Royal Marines. He’s signing up as we speak. Geoff and Terry have it all arranged.” Rolan chuckled. “Talk about being scared straight.”
“Where is Adria?”
“With Renée.” Seeing Su-Lin’s puckered forehead, Sarita added, “Jean-Michel’s mother. I gather you have plans for the girl?”
“I think so. I mean, I guess it depends upon the bonds. Is she all alone in the world now?”
“According to Casmir, their parents died a while back. They’ve been virtually homeless. You do have to give him some credit, honey. He’s kept Adria and Gitana alive and safe, and I’m convinced whatever he did, it was with those two goals in mind.”
“Hmmh.” Sarita snorted. “I don’t care what you say, Rolan Paxton, I don’t want that boy around our son. And I’m sure Su-Lin will agree he’s not a good influence for the girl. Tell her the rest.”
“I’m not sure if you knew, but the
Glory’s
been chefless since Sarita quit when she and I got married. Sarita hired a replacement who was supposed to arrive a couple of days ago, but the woman failed to show. Long story short, this was all planned so that Casmir and two of his colleagues would, on Chang’s recommendation, cater dinner that night.”
“Austen should have known better. Since when does a caterer bring a trunk as part and parcel of their cooking equipment?” Sarita interjected with a huff. “At least Lolita had a fabulous time at the Cap.”
“Lolita? A trunk?” she asked and rubbed one temple absently, trying to alleviate a sudden throbbing.
“My replacement,” Sarita answered. “Some guy met her at the airport, told her the
Glory
was in dry dock, and took her to the Cap, all expenses paid.”
“Oh. And the trunk?”
“No one would suspect you were in it.”
Even though a steady breeze played with the cream chiffon drapes fronting the open French doors, oxygen seemed to have evaporated from the room.
“What we haven’t figured out as yet is Carol-Ann’s role in all of this.”
“Is she really dead?” Although Su-Lin hadn’t like the woman one iota, she wouldn’t have wished such an untimely end on anyone. “Did she fall overboard?”
“No. She was shot. With Terry’s gun.”
“What?” Su-Lin scrambled off the bed. “I don’t believe it. He wouldn’t do that. I know it.” She searched the room for any sign of her luggage. “I have to go to him.”
“Calm down, Su-Lin. Terry has an airtight alibi for that night.”
“Oh,” she said and patted her chest, as if that would slow her racing heart. “All the people in the bar. Thank God.”
“Actually, he spent the night in a motel room with Gitana. She should clear Terry this afternoon.”
So many thoughts crowded and jumbled Su-Lin’s brain, she had to fight not to spout each one as it occurred. Then a refrain played in head. He spent the night in a motel room, over and over, until she wanted to plug her ears with her fingers.
“He’s crazy about you, Su-Lin. And was probably devastated that night. Terry’s never really forgiven himself for what happened between him and Carol-Ann when he was a teenager.” Sarita’s light brown eyes glistened with sincerity. She gave Su-Lin’s shoulder a little squeeze. “Give him the benefit of the doubt. Harry talked to the girl. Nothing happened. And she is providing a solid alibi for Terry. That was her intention the whole while.”
“According to Harry, her exact words were, ‘With that old man?’” Rolan said, his lips curving into a wide grin. “Then she added, ‘He’s even older than you.’ Harry’s mortified.”
She couldn’t help but return Rolan’s infectious grin and concentrated on forcing the niggle of remaining doubt out of her mind. “It all seems so surreal. I mean, this kind of thing happens to other people, not to me. What happens next?”
“The inquest, or whatever the French version is, will last the rest of today and part of tomorrow. Thomas will call us with an update,” Rolan replied.
“I see.” She fiddled with the green top sheet. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a shower.”
“Of course we don’t mind. We’ll leave you now.”
An hour later, Su-Lin set out to find the swimming pool.
The house proved a formidable adversary in that task, but she found the basement and an exit. Walking the perimeter, she discovered the familiar French doors standing open and heard splashing. Tony waved.
“Hey, Su-Lin. Coming for a swim? It’s great, and it’s heated. See the steam?” He pointed at the far end of the pool where wisps of steam curled and floated above the still aquamarine water.
“I don’t have a suit,” she answered and made her way to the tiled pool edge.
“They’ve tons in the changing room over there.”
Her thoughts tangential, careening from Terry to her uncle and aunt to the bonds, she entered the changing room and picked up the first one-piece, which looked to be about her size. This didn’t happen to people like her, an insignificant girl from Mayo, Ohio. Half the time certain she had dreamed everything thus far, the other half afraid she had descended into madness.
“Come on in,” Tony called, his green eyes glinting. “Wanna race?”
“Let me warm up first,” she answered, his boyish grin and exuberance infectious, and her lips crooked.
She swam thirty laps to warm up.
Tony joined her until he tired, chattering nonstop between strokes.
“You’re good. I can only do twenty. But I’ll practice. Bet after a week I’ll be able to do forty.”
Her mouth curved as she recognized a competitive spirit that matched hers.
His green eyes narrowed when she won their race, and he suggested an underwater challenge.
“Not today, Tony. Maybe another time.” She stood in the shallow end of the pool and squeezed the water out of her long hair.
“I’m going to the Gypsy village. The fire-eater’s teaching me how to do it. Wanna come?” Tony asked as they toweled off.
“Yes,” she replied, her heart skipping a few beats.
Glad for the distraction, Su-Lin followed Tony’s lead through the rambling grounds. The heavy scent of pine filled her nose and lungs, and she inhaled, eyes closed, head tilted to let the sun warm her cheeks. Tony prattled the entire walk, jumping from one unrelated topic to another until her mind reeled. The boy’s determined optimistic view of the world, his unshaken doubt he could overcome any obstacle, buoyed her spirits.
Possessed of a mischievous incorrigible wit, Tony had her laughing aloud in no time. She surrendered to the sheer joy of simply being alive and vitality thronged through her. She did a cartwheel. Tony did two. A front somersault. He fell on his backside attempting to imitate her actions. They progressed forward at a slow pace and entered the Gypsy village walking on their hands.