CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER
NASH WATCHED RESPECTFULLY AS STEERS knelt in front of the rectangle of grass with the large stone in the center, closed her eyes, and said words he could not entirely make out. He thought he heard both Japanese and English, and perhaps a smattering of Mandarin.
She was there for nearly twenty minutes before rising and saying, “I will be back, Hiroko-san.”
She and Nash gathered up the picnic elements, then carried them to the car.
On the drive home Nash said, “When do you expect to hear from the buyer?”
“He is a man who lives by his own timetable. There are only a very few people in the entire world who have any influence over him at all, and I am not one of them.”
“And if he accepts, what then?”
“Then a new life for me commences, as it does for him.”
“And your mother?”
“My mother will land on her feet, just like a cat. Indeed, it will be fascinating to see just how well on her feet she is able to land.”
“And me and Thura?”
She looked at him. “No matter my new life, elements of my old one will follow me. I will need you if you are up to it and so desire.”
“You mean I have a choice?”
“In some ways, significant ones, Dillon-san, you have always had a choice. But with that said, things will come to a head. And you will be truly free once more.”
“And you?”
“We will see.”
“If he completes the sale I assume the man will be no more danger to you.”
“Oh, Dillon-san, do not make assumptions like that.”
“Then you will need my services for the long haul.”
“Perhaps. But perhaps not if things turn out the way I intend them to.”
He didn’t know what she meant by that. Or maybe Nash did know but was afraid to confront his own fears.
Then Shock’s warning came back to him: This woman would kill him given the chance.
He could afford her no quarter. If the opportunity arose, he should end her life because otherwise she would do the same to him.
Yet there was a significant part of Nash’s psyche that simply refused to accept this as true.
And if I’m wrong, it will cost me my life. And Maggie’s death will never be avenged.
“May I ask you something, Dillon-san?” she said.
He broke from his thoughts and looked at her. “Yes, of course.”
“The night you came to me back in Hong Kong, before you left for Myanmar. You said that I had a weakness, a flaw in my plan, with respect to you and Mr. Temple rescuing my mother. You would not reveal it before, and with good reason. What was it?”
“Can I be frank?”
“I hope you would be.”
“I believed that you sent us there to take the blame for whatever happened with your mother. You were going to make the switch regardless, but you already had men in place who could free her. Now, you couldn’t know those men would try to double-cross you,” he added quickly, and dishonestly.
“But we would be left behind, dead, to take the blame. Is that not so?”
“I must admit that that was my original plan. So the flaw?”
“That we would succeed in bringing back your mother successfully, despite your intentions, which is exactly what we did. But I was counting on the fact that your normal business instincts would be overcome by. . .your gratitude, from our having saved your mother, and the respect a survivor such as yourself would have for other. . .survivors.”
She nodded. “I see. Thank you, Dillon-san.”
“And you said it was your original plan?”
“I. . .I would not have conceived such a plan had I known you then as well as I have come to know you now.”
Nash nodded but thought, But you really don’t know me, not even now. I’m not sure I even know me anymore.
When they got back to the estate, Steers went inside the main house while Nash parked the car, returned the picnic items to the kitchen, and checked in with Thura, who was still making rounds. When Nash later went to his room, his phone buzzed.
It was another email from Morris.
CONNOR LORD ON THE MOVE. PLANE ENROUTE TO THE US.
He understood how dangerous it was to send and receive messages this way. But since he was head of security, he had a little more comfort that no one would be watching him that closely. And Steers clearly trusted him. But then again, nothing was guaranteed. No, one thing would be.
She will kill me if she finds out who I really am, friendship and “Dillon-san” be damned.
He erased the message, then sat on his bed and took off his jacket.
Steers clearly had figured out Temple’s plan to abscond.
Whether she would allow him to do so or not he didn’t know.
It seemed to him that given her decision to abandon her business, Temple might be left free to go on with his life.
But if Connor Lord learned of his involvement?
Or maybe he already knew. Would Temple be locked in regardless?
And then he might reveal my true identity to his new boss just to gain favor. But I might be okay with that. Because if Steers is giving up, what does it matter if people find out who I really am?
His next thoughts turned to Judith. It had been a long time since he had seen his wife.
And at least according to Agent Morris, Judith knew that Dillon Hope and Walter Nash were one and the same.
That was a good thing for Nash because she would not worry about him.
Or at least not think that he might be dead.
But Nash’s feelings toward her had changed. His wife’s long affair with Temple had destroyed something vital in their relationship, at least from Nash’s perspective. And the fact that she had believed he could have abused his own daughter? He shook his head.
I can’t say that I love her in the way I did before. And now it’s pretty clear that she didn’t love me in the way I believed she did.
This last thought came from the fact that she had been seeing Temple while Nash had been on the run. No doubt they were sleeping together. He hated her for that. But then having personally witnessed his wife’s overwhelming grief at losing their daughter? He felt enormous empathy for Judith, too.
These competing thoughts were paralyzing for Nash.
And then he realized he had a similar dilemma with Steers.
This is an abyss I may never escape from.
He sat on the bed hovering between weeping and slamming his fist through the wall.
That was when he heard footsteps heading his way, fast.
He leapt up when Thura appeared in his doorway. The man looked shell-shocked.
Nash said, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Thura shook his head, pulled out his phone, and came forward.
“What is it, Thura?” Nash demanded.
Thura held up his phone, which had a picture of Masuyo on the screen. “I snapped this the other day when she wasn’t looking.”
“Why?”
“I told you my cousin was a guard at that prison for years. I sent the photo to him and asked him how much of a bitch Masuyo was when she was there. It was just for fun, man.”
“And what did he say? That she was really bad?”
“No, man. Not that!”
“What then?” snapped an exasperated Nash.
“He said that Masuyo was never a prisoner there.”