“Jesus!” Quincy said.
The explosion was followed by another in the distance, so loud and jarring it sounded as if a plane had crashed from the skies. Black smoke ballooned above the treetops, beginning to obscure the stars.
The lights from the Corcillium house were gone, replaced by angry flames.
In the distance, they could hear more helicopters approaching. “Come on,” Steven said, trudging down the path.
“Blue. Where is Blue—?”
“My home is isolated. Rudd is with her. He’ll know to take her and run.”
The path veered off to split the tall grass, leading to a tucked-away dock and a small fishing boat.
“Untether the boat,” Steven whispered, leaning heavily on one of the wood pillars, motioning for them to get inside.
William lifted off the rope as Quincy stepped in, lifting Lily in and helping Steven as he practically collapsed into the boat.
“There’s the oar,” Steven said, slumping into the seat, his head thrown back in exhaustion.
As they drifted into the water, William set the oar in, propelling them away from the dock.
“Which way?” he whispered.
“Head south. The direction we’re heading.”
“Shouldn’t we fire up the motor?” Quincy asked.
“We can’t risk them hearing.”
Another geyser of flame erupted from the mansion, sending a plume of smoke into the sky.
Steven lay with his eyes closed now. “It was Blue… who insisted upon it. Have an escape route, she said. Make sure if we’re ever compromised, nothing remains. They cannot have our records.”
“But all that research. All of it gone,” Quincy said. “My great-grandfather’s letters…”
“No,” Steven said, raising a trembling finger towards William. “It’s all there.”
William reached up to touch the flash drive on the chain around his neck. “But if they get to Blue…”
“Rudd is among the few to be notified when there is a security perimeter breach. They were long gone as soon as he got the alert. The one thing the Corcillium knows best is how to hide.”
“How do we get in contact with any of them now?” William asked.
Steven slowly opened his eyes. “We don’t.”
Lynn gripped the side of the chair with such ferocity that her knuckles whitened, the veins in her age-spotted hands rising. She pushed herself to stand once again and resume her pacing in front of the French doors that overlooked the stately eastern white pines.
“If you’d like,” Roxy said, flipping through the Country Living magazine for the twentieth time while propped up with seven pillows on the bed, “I can call for a vacuum. Best form of therapy for you.”
“How could I have been so stupid?” Lynn asked.
“Stupid had nothing to do with this, at least this time.” Roxy put the magazine down on her lap. “When armed government agents say for national security reasons you have to fly to DC, you go. Especially when your daughter signs the order.”
Lynn’s eyes flashed. “How could she?”
“Listen,” Roxy said, attempting once again to position the pillows to support her lower back. “Kate is a lot of things, and things have gone extremely south in the last few years, but she still loves you. She wants you close—”
“But we aren’t close to Washington.” Lynn motioned to the windows. “Those are Maryland pines out there. I made Tom take me out to Boonsboro and Chestertown when he used to insist I come with him to DC. I know the Maryland countryside. We’re here because it’s remote and no one could find us.”
“I’m not going to defend her. I obviously don’t agree with what she’s done. But after seeing what’s happened to William…”
“She is simply being used as a pawn. You know better than anyone what the Suits are capable of doing. I don’t understand what’s happened to William, but I can tell you they’ll want to silence him and make him disappear. It’s exactly what they’ve done with us too. All under the guise of being an order from the FBI. I’m sorry, I have to go get some air.”
“Don’t think they’ll let you go far,” Roxy motioned to the door, which had been locked by the agent positioned in the hallway outside.
“They know there’s nowhere to run.” Lynn opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the courtyard.
The man sitting outside on an iron chair looked up from his phone. “Can I help you, Mrs. Roseworth?”
“You can allow us to leave,” she said.
“Sorry, ma’am. You’re here for your own security.”
Liar. “I just need some fresh air.”
“Of course.”
She walked to the edge of the paving stones, tastefully laid amid carefully trimmed grass. After being inside for so long, she welcomed the sun, despite its already pounding heat.
Nothing, however, could dispel the chill within her.
The shadow was like a leash. She was allowed to think, to act, to do as she would, but the reminder was there, tugging at her.
“Something’s controlling us,” Don had said, just before they lost contact.
She had no doubt it had returned for William too.
Whatever was happening, he had to be told everything. It was perhaps the greatest debate between her and Tom in all the years since Argentum. She agonized about bringing William into the fold, believing he deserved to know the truth. But Tom insisted he be able to live a regular life for as long as possible. Knowing how heavily the truth weighed on her, she’d agreed. And now her husband, the only one who truly understood, was gone.
Some marriages couldn’t survive the exposure of an affair, even if it happened forty years ago. Theirs had been strained, even sleeping in separate bedrooms for a while. After three weeks of it, she’d marched into the guest room and gotten into bed with him.
Grueling sessions with a marriage counselor had unearthed decades of resentment. The end result was a greater understanding of each other, and a professional pairing the two had never experienced before. Tom began to use government connections to see what he could uncover about Argentum. But when the official investigation discredited Lynn’s claims of a vast conspiracy, Tom realized that he could no longer align himself with a government that was waging a war on the truth. He gave up his Senate seat, cutting all ties with Washington while quietly tapping into his resources. As Lynn re-established her research into the missing, she found the husband from whom she had kept so many secrets for so long was now an invaluable assistant.
Tom had frowned, however, when that package had arrived on their doorstep, containing a generic cell phone to which a single note was attached, with a phone number. Vowing to keep no more secrets, Lynn acknowledged the handwriting belonged to Dr. Steven Richards. Tom had just squeezed her hand and whispered that he trusted her. Her heart swelled for her husband in a way it hadn’t for years.
Steven had sounded frantic when she called, saying he was on his way to Mexico to confirm something that she desperately needed to know. Keeping the conversation short and calm, she said she looked forward to hearing his findings and reminded him that she wanted the letters about her mother that the Corcillium had offered in exchange for her cooperation.
Steven had only said he understood.
Months later, she’d gotten irritated and used the phone to call again. A man had answered, saying that the Corcillium thought it best to keep their communication extremely limited from now on. She’d demanded the letters from her father, which the man said they hoped to provide in time. In response, she’d said that her property was off limits until the letters were provided, and to tell that to Steven himself. The man promised to relay the message.