It was just over a month after the attempt on Christy’s life at the camp that Detective Kimberly Cochran knocked on Anthony’s front door.

During that month, Anthony ascertained that Veronique Dubois had left for a month-long holiday two days after setting Christy up to be tortured and murdered. He’d been told by his informant that it wasn’t a random departure, but rather a planned vacation in Bermuda. Anthony was glad that he wouldn’t have to chase down Veronique to exact his revenge. She would be returning, and while she was gone, he meticulously laid out a plan. Not to just eliminate her in the most painful way possible, but to disgrace her as well.

Anthony invited the detective into his living room and called for Christy to join them. The three sat on the leather furniture that squeaked as their bodies weighed it down.

“I have news about both of your parents, Christy,” the woman said, looking at Anthony and then turning to Christy.

Anthony reached for Christy’s hand and squeezed it.

“I’ll tell you the bad news first.”

Christy swallowed and listened as the woman told her that they were pretty sure Vivian was dead. She’d been booked on a six-month European cruise under the assumed name of Vivian Slade.

“Does the name Slade mean anything to you?” the detective asked.

Christy shook her head. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

Detective Cochran went on to explain that Vivian Slade was two months into her vacation when a friend she’d made on the cruise reported her missing.

“Missing?” Christy interrupted. “How does someone go missing on a cruise?”

“It’s presumed that she fell overboard, since she was discovered missing between ports. It’s not common, but it does happen. They found so many prescription drugs in Vivian’s room, they assumed she wandered out to the deck and fell over when nobody was around. There’s no other explanation.”

“How do you know for sure that Vivian Slade is my mother?”

The detective unclasped an envelope she’d carried in and pulled out a picture. She handed it to Christy as she continued to explain. “Vivian Slade has a fake address in Naples. The cruise line couldn’t locate next of kin to notify so they contacted us. The picture you’re looking at was taken by the friend she made on the cruise. That is your mother, isn’t it?”

Christy nodded. “It’s her, and I’m sure Van had something to do with this!” she snapped.

“We thought that might’ve been possible too, Christy, but we checked out every single person on that cruise, and we could find no one, absolutely nobody, with any background that was even slightly suspicious. Yeah, there were lots of sea goers with outstanding parking tickets, trespassing violations, and a couple of DUIs, but none with a criminal history.”

Christy stiffened and said, “Well, if you could find Van, I’m sure you could press him to admit how he managed it. If Vivian was traveling with false identification, so could someone he hired to do her in. And those lawyers that visited Anthony said she was sent off with enough medication to kill her.”

"You're right. That's always a possibility, but from what we know, having Vivian killed wouldn't be convenient for Van. He can't touch her bank account without her. And you already told me that your grandmother's will came with a caveat,” she said kindly.

"That in the event of Vivian's death, I'm the sole heir to all of it," Christy finished.

"Yes, Van wouldn't get a dime. My thinking was that he sent Vivian on the cruise not to have her killed, but to have her out of the way while he schemed to have you committed. If she wasn't around, he would be the only parent available to sign all the paperwork that would put you in a facility. And of course, his lawyers would make sure he was given the ability to manage your assets."

"Exactly!" Christy agreed. "And with Vivian gone, I get her money, and Van gets mine. That's why he had her killed."

"It's possible, but I respectfully disagree," the detective added. "Right now, the only way Van is surviving is on his stipend from the dealerships and the money he receives as an allowance from your mother. The moment she is declared missing or dead all that dries up. I'm not saying he wouldn't have tried to have her killed at a later date—he's certainly capable of it. But I don't think he wanted that well to dry up until he was certain he had control of your bank accounts."

"Yeah, I guess it makes sense," Christy said, as she swiped her short hair behind her ear. "Who knows what his sociopath brain was trying to do. We'll probably never know."

Kimberly Cochran nodded her head in agreement and said, “Now for the good news. We have Van in custody, and he is facing charges that, if convicted, will put him away for a long time.”

“What?” Christy practically screamed. “You have him?”

The detective gave Anthony a quick glance and looked back at Christy. She didn’t want to admit that it was his tip about Dan Mikkelson and Pete Germaine that led to a sting operation. She explained to Christy that after discovering that the law firm of Mikkelson & Germaine was under investigation for some clandestine dealings, they negotiated through the state attorney to lessen possible charges in return for the men's cooperation. They gave up Van’s last known location, agreed to wear wires and get him to admit what he’d conspired to have done to Christy to take control of her finances.

“Van also spouted off about being screwed over by some guy they recommended he hire. Have either of you ever heard the name Ben Diamond?” She looked at Anthony, then Christy.

Anthony watched to see if Christy’s expression would give away that she’d heard that name before. Shasta had told them both that Veronique had mentioned the name to John the night of Christy’s attempted murder. Anthony hadn’t been able to verify the man’s existence or if he’d had anything to do with Veronique’s sudden decision to show up at his house and then the camp. His gut was telling him there was a connection, but the only people who would be able to verify it would be the missing Ben Diamond, Van or Veronique. He would interrogate the latter in the most painful way possible.

“No.” Christy shook her head. “That’s not a name I’ve ever heard. What about you Anthony?” She turned to look at him.

He was impressed with her poker face and had the instant thought that maybe he should teach her how to gamble.

“Never heard the name. What did Van say he hired him for?” Anthony asked, although he was certain he knew the answer.

“Well, he never said while he was being recorded. And of course, he hasn’t told us anything else since he’s been arrested because it’s a sure thing that whatever it is will only implicate him further.”

Anthony nodded, secretly relieved that if Ben Diamond was the reason behind Veronique’s visit to his house and the camp, it would never come to light. If they found the man and he led them to Veronique, it might interfere with what Anthony had planned for her.

"And if the two lawyers recommended him to Van they must be able to tell you how to get in touch with him," Anthony added, fishing for more information.

"True," the woman admitted. "We tried the number they gave Van, and of course it's been disconnected. They fessed up to using this man before, but said that after a job, he always got a message to them that included a new name and phone number. If this Ben Diamond screwed over Van like Van claims he did, it's safe to assume that Mr. Diamond will not be giving the lawyers a way to contact him. There's no doubt he's long gone and won't be coming back."

Anthony nodded.

“I need to speak to Christy alone,” Detective Cochran said as she stood up, the meeting obviously over.

Anthony and Christy stood up as well and Christy said, “I’ll walk you to the door.” She gave Anthony a look that said she would explain later.

That night after they’d made love, Anthony held her close and asked, “Do you want to discuss what Detective Cochran told you about your mother? I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up, Owani. Do you need to talk?”

“No. There isn’t anything to talk about. Other than starting paperwork to declare her legally dead, there’s not much else to say.”

They were silent for a moment when she added, “I guess you think I’m awful. I’m not even sure if I believe she’s dead and worse yet, I’m not sure if I care. Does that make me heartless?” She leaned up on her elbow to look down at his face.

“I don’t think you would even know how to be heartless, Owani,” he told her as he pulled her face to his and planted a kiss on her nose. He then kissed her chin, each eye, her forehead and then finally, her mouth. She pulled back and continued to look down at him.

He saw the pain in her eyes and softly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, the dimness in their bedroom not hiding the stark contrast in the color of their skin. Not loving her parents the way a child should didn’t surprise him in the least. But Anthony knew it was more than that. Her lack of love for Van and Vivian went deeper. Anthony suspected that Christy clung to many secrets hidden in her heart and he’d patiently waited for her to reveal them to him. To trust him enough to share a deep pain he’d recognized in her eyes long before the incident at the camp.

For two months they’d spent hours wrapped in each other’s arms, their lovemaking going beyond the physical. With each kiss, each caress, each whisper they experienced a mating of their souls that connected their hearts. He reveled in being the first to teach her about the physical aspect of intimate pleasure and she brought that facet to a new plane for him. An emotional one that he’d never experienced before. She’d invaded his heart, his muscles, his bones. Christy even flowed through his blood, and he knew that any separation from her would be tantamount to having his heart ripped from his chest. Since he would never give her up or let her go, he knew that he would have to settle for being there when she finally decided to share her hidden pain. And when she did, he would help her heal from whatever she’d kept locked away. This was his woman; he would give her as much time as she needed.

She removed herself from his arms, plopped back on her pillow, and stared at the ceiling. “I've been trying to help Detective Cochran with something,” she blurted out. Before he could reply, she added, “The reason she wanted to talk to me privately was to discuss our little arrangement and I told her before she left that I was going to tell you anyway so she didn’t have to be so secretive. She didn’t mind. As a matter of fact, she thought someone like you might even be helpful.”

“Someone like me?” he asked.

“Yeah, you know. A criminal.”

He chuckled and said, “Let’s hear it, Owani.”