The kettle boiled and Quinn made herself a cup of tea, which she took through to the lounge. She took a seat on the sofa and folded her legs beneath her as she considered what she knew so far. At first, she’d assumed Simon would come between Mary and John, given his obvious interest in her, but by now she was fairly sure that wasn’t the case. Mary detested Simon and feared his ambition and lack of honor. And she didn’t appear to hold Travesty Brown in high esteem either. The woman was an enigma. She was understandably angry with the hand life had dealt her, but her attitude toward Mary and her less-then-subtle defiance went beyond bitterness, making Quinn wonder if there was something in her circumstances that caused her fresh pain. Could she have been in love with John? Was that the source of her resentment toward Mary?
Surely, after living with Simon and John for over a year, Travesty would have been aware of their relationship. Or would she? Perhaps she didn’t care. Had John married her, her indenture would have come to an end, and she would have been mistress of the plantation and a woman of property should her husband die. Perhaps she viewed Mary as a usurper.
That left Walks Between Worlds. Mary was drawn to him, there was no question about that. Walker was a very attractive man, but Mary had been taken in by his attention and kindness. Would she really consider going off with him, a decision that might cost her her life if she were caught and brought back? It seemed unlikely. Life in an Indian village would go completely against the grain for a young woman reared in England and indoctrinated in the ways of the Church. Like Walker’s mother, Mary would never find peace among people she could never hope to understand, people who would always view her with suspicion. Perhaps Walker longed for someone who’d be as much of an outsider as he felt himself to be. After all, what man wouldn’t be tormented with guilt if he’d been blamed for the death of his children, especially given that the accusation came from the tribe’s spiritual leader? He might have feared taking another Indian wife and risking the lives of their future offspring.
He felt a kinship with Mary, but could he have really loved her? Could Mary have loved him? Sipping her tea, Quinn sighed when she recalled a quote from a book by Joseph Stein. “A bird might love a fish, but where would they build a home together?” Where, indeed? There’d be no happy ending for Mary and Walker, Quinn knew that. But what had led to Mary’s gruesome death on the beach of St. Just?
Chapter 41
February 2015
Ramstein-Miesenbach, Germany
Rhys kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed, enjoying the firm support beneath his back. Hotel Europa looked like something straight out of a Grimm fairy tale, and after the Spartan accommodations of the Mustafa Hotel, he was enjoying the amenities. Rhys acknowledged to himself that he was way too attached to his creature comforts, but the private bath that smelled of pine cleaner and boasted excellent water pressure made him doubly happy. He plugged in his iPad to charge—another luxury—and reached for his mobile. He’d go down to the bar and have a beer later, and if the appetizing smell coming from the restaurant was anything to go by, he’d be having a good dinner. But first, he’d call Quinn. It was just past three o’clock, so she’d most likely be on her own.
Rhys swallowed back his nervousness as he made the call. Quinn picked up on the second ring.
“Rhys, I left you a dozen messages. Where have you been?” she cried. Rhys heard the fear in her voice. Perhaps Gabe had done too good a job of preparing her for the worst.
“I’m sorry,” Rhys replied in his most soothing tone. “I know you were worried, but I had to be sure of my information before I rang you.”
“And? Are you sure now?” Quinn asked in a small, quivering voice.
“Yes, I am. Quinn, there’s good news and there’s bad news. I’ll start with the bad, if you don’t mind. Jo and a local guide took a trip into the mountains. They drove over an explosive device, which detonated beneath their vehicle. The guide survived, but when he woke up in hospital, he had no idea what had happened to Jo.”
“Rhys, please, just tell me. I can’t bear this,” Quinn moaned.
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to know what happened. Jo, who was badly hurt, was lucky enough to be picked up by American troops who were in the area. They took her to a military facility in Kabul, then flew her out to their base in Germany, which is where I am now.”
“You’re in Germany?” Quinn exclaimed.
“I arrived this morning on a military transport.”
“Have you seen her? Have you seen Jo?”
“Quinn, Jo suffered a subdural hematoma, as well as some other injuries. She’s been operated on and is on the mend. I saw her this morning. She recognized me.”
“Oh, thank God! Did you tell her about me?” Quinn asked, her voice small and shaky.
“Jo’s doctor warned me not to upset her. I couldn’t just blurt out that I’d been sent by the twin sister she’d never heard of. It’ll take time, Quinn. You must be patient. The worst is over.”
“Rhys, where exactly are you?”
Rhys heard the determination in Quinn’s voice and smiled. He knew exactly where this was going, but this was the Quinn he knew and loved, and he’d expect nothing less. “Perhaps you should give it a day or two,” he suggested, knowing his advice would be completely ignored.
“Absolutely not. I will be on the first flight to Germany, as soon as you tell me precisely where you are.”
“All right. I’m in Ramstein-Miesenbach, and Jo is at the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. She’s in the best of hands, Quinn.”
“Rhys, did her doctor indicate when she can come home?” Quinn asked.
“No, she didn’t. Jo was in an induced coma for several weeks. She’s not going anywhere just now. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Quinn, how’s our case going?” Rhys asked, his mind switching momentarily to work.
“I’ll fill you in when I get there. I have to go. I can’t wait to tell Gabe, and I need to call my dad, and Logan. Not sure if I want to tell Sylvia though,” Quinn mused. She sounded lighter, and full of purpose. “Perhaps Logan can pass on the news.”
“Text me your flight information. I’ll see about hiring a car.”
“Rhys, I can’t thank you enough,” Quinn said, her voice soft and breathless again. “What you’ve done for me…”
“It was my pleasure. Now, I have a date with a wiener schnitzel and a stein of local lager, and if you’d spent a fortnight in Kabul you would understand just how exciting that is. I will see you soon.”
“Enjoy your schnitzel, Rhys,” Quinn said with a chuckle.
Rhys disconnected the call and stared at the blank screen for a moment, wondering if he’d made a terrible mistake by calling Quinn so soon. How would Jo react, in her current state, to a sister she’d never met, and would Dr. Stein object to Quinn putting Jo through such emotional upheaval so soon after waking her from a coma? Perhaps he should have waited until he’d spoken to Dr. Stein and had a clearer picture of what to expect, but at this stage, nothing would keep Quinn away. Even if she weren’t allowed to visit with Jo, she’d sit outside her hospital room, happy in the knowledge that they were finally in the same place at the same time.
The shower beckoned, and Rhys set aside his mobile and stripped off his clothes, which still smelled of the musty room in Kabul. He hoped Hotel Europa had laundry service. He stepped beneath the blissfully hot spray and inhaled the pleasant smell of lavender soap. He’d allow himself one evening of indulgence: a long, hot shower, followed by a good dinner, and a film or two, if he couldn’t find a cooking program. He’d never thought he’d be this excited to see a television. Tomorrow, Quinn would arrive, and they’d deal with whatever circumstances arose together.
Chapter 42
Quinn tossed her mobile onto the sofa and sprang to her feet. She wasn’t the type of person who paced when she was anxious, but she couldn’t have remained immobile if her life depended on it. She prowled the length of the room, her
mind going over her conversation with Rhys again and again in an effort to determine if he’d held anything back. She knew him well enough at this stage to notice when he was being evasive or trying to deftly maneuver her onto another topic, but he’d seemed completely upfront. Jo had been badly hurt, but she was all right—or would be once she had time to recover. Quinn would see her tomorrow.
“TOMORROW!” her mind screamed. She would meet her twin tomorrow. Quinn increased her pace to match the racing of her heart at the giddy thought. Never had she been this excited and nervous, not even the day before her wedding.
She longed to shout the news from the rooftops, but a small part of her wanted to hold on to this moment for just a little longer, to hug the knowledge to her chest like a wonderful gift that she wasn’t quite ready to show anyone just yet. She finally sat down and wrapped her arms about her legs, resting her chin on her knees. Her initial burst of excitement was beginning to wear off, while anxiety settled in, and all the questions that had been gnawing at her for the past several months reared their ugly heads. Why hadn’t Jo responded to her letter? She must have received it before leaving for Kabul. Why had she severed ties with her brother and sister and chosen not to attend their father’s funeral? Why had she not been in contact with Charles Sutcliffe? Surely, he’d be one of the first people she’d call. What if Jo refused to see her?
Quinn reached for her mobile. She needed to talk to Gabe, but the call went straight to voicemail. She glanced at the time on the screen. Of course, Gabe had a staff meeting at three, and it was now half past. He wouldn’t be available for at least another half hour, and then he’d go directly to Emma’s school to collect her. Quinn would tell him about Jo when he got home and was able to give her his full attention. She’d tell Seth once she had more information. Seth was the type of person who’d get on the next flight to Germany, and Quinn wasn’t at all sure it’d be a good idea to spring him, or his unsavory past with their mother, on Jo this soon. One surprise at a time was probably all the poor woman could handle in her present situation.
Logan. She had to tell Logan. He would be as excited as she was but wouldn’t do anything rash. Logan understood that although Jo was his sister as well, Quinn was her twin and needed to be the first to speak to her. Logan would be supportive and talk her through this without making the situation all about himself, as Sylvia would if she got wind of the news. Quinn selected Logan’s number and pressed the call button. He answered on the first ring.
“Logan, I’m so glad you picked up. I have to talk to you. Something’s happened,” Quinn blurted out. Now that she had Logan on the phone, she couldn’t wait to share the news.
“How did you find out, Quinn?” He sounded tense and upset, not at all like his usual happy-go-lucky self.
“I just got the call a few minutes ago.”
“From whom?” Logan demanded. “Please tell me you didn’t tell Mum.”
“No, I rang you first. Why are you so upset?” Quinn asked, taken aback by Logan’s reaction.
“I’m sorry, sis. I’m just really scared right now.”
“Of what?” Quinn asked. “It’s really good news, under the circumstances.”
“I know it could have been worse, but it’s touch and go at the moment,” Logan replied. “We’ll know more in the next few hours. I wish Colin would get here. I could use the support.”
“Logan, what are you talking about? What’s happened?” Quinn asked, realization dawning that Logan wasn’t speaking about Jo.
“I thought you knew,” Logan replied. “I assumed Colin rang you.” He sounded confused as well, and distracted. Quinn heard hospital sounds in the background. Someone was being paged.
“No, Colin never called. I wanted to tell you about Jo,” Quinn explained. “Rhys called from Germany.”
“Jo?”
“Our sister. Logan, what on earth is going on? You’re scaring me.”
“Jude was brought in about an hour ago,” Logan said. He sounded as if he were about to cry. He was crying, Quinn realized.
“Why?” Quinn’s excitement fizzled, instantly replaced by an icy dread spreading through her chest and chilling her heart.
“He overdosed, Quinn. He’s in a bad way. I thought he was doing well. I thought he had a chance this time.”
“Was he alone when it happened?” Quinn wasn’t sure why it mattered, but she supposed she wanted to have someone to blame.
“Bridget was with him.”
“Was she the one who called an ambulance?”
“Not exactly.” Logan sniffled loudly, then blew his nose. He sounded a wreck.
“Logan, please tell me.”
Logan took a shuddering breath. “Quinn, as you probably know, Jude is into erotic asphyxiation. Sometimes, he did it on his own when he wanked off, but he also did it with Bridget. He had her tighten the belt around his throat when he came. He said it took the orgasm to a different level.”
“I thought you said he overdosed.”
“He did. He had a seizure and lost consciousness. Bridget was flying high on heroin and thought she’d pulled the belt too tight. She was too terrified or too strung out to call for help. Her flat-mate found them when she came home. Bridget was huddled in the corner, and Jude was on the bed, the belt still around his neck. He’d been unconscious for some time. They won’t know for certain till he wakes up, but he might have suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen.”
“Oh God. I’m so sorry, Logan. Sylvia doesn’t know?”
“I don’t know how to tell her this, Quinn. She’ll be devastated. She tried so hard to help him get clean. I’ll never forgive myself if he dies,” Logan sobbed. “It’s all my fault.”
“How can this be your fault?”
“We argued last night. I should have listened to him, but I got angry and gave him a right old bollocking instead. I told him to get his shit together and stop blaming everyone else for his failings. I told him I’d never forgive him if he cocked up this chance.”
“So, he was upset and broke down and rang Bridget.”
“Exactly. I should have stayed and talked to him. I should have taken him out for a coffee or a film. I should have never left his side, Quinn. I should have known he’d self-sabotage. Instead, I rushed home because Colin was making dinner for me and I didn’t want to keep him waiting.”
“Logan, you can’t be by Jude’s side every minute of every day. Jude’s an addict. You can’t save him from himself. Only he can do that.”
“I must. He’s my baby brother, and I let him down. And now Mum will blame me too. She always does. She says Jude might have never started using had I not abandoned him.”
“You didn’t abandon him.”
“No, but I should have been there for him when our dad died. I should have paid more attention to what he was going through. I was too busy with my new relationship and my job. I chose Colin over Jude.”
“Logan, you did nothing wrong. You’re allowed some personal happiness in your life. You can’t be held responsible.”
“But I am,” Logan moaned miserably.
“I will be there shortly. We’ll talk then.”
“Thanks, Quinn.”
“No need to thank me. You’re my brother and I love you.” And she loved Jude, and would be devastated to lose him, she realized, as she threw things into Alex’s baby bag. She added a bottle of formula and went to get Alex. He’d be cranky at being woken, but she couldn’t afford to wait. Logan needed her, and so did Jude.
Chapter 43
Quinn found Logan in ICU, sitting next to Jude’s bed. Jude’s skin looked gray in the pale light of the winter afternoon. His eyes were closed, and his lips had a blue tinge that added to his corpse-like appearance. Ugly purple welts decorated his neck where the belt had been tightened. It must have been very wide, since the bruises fully covered his Adam’s apple.
Quinn let out an involuntary sob, her hand flying to her mouth. Surely, they weren’t going to lose him. Logan stood and faced he
r. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he was almost as pale as his brother. Quinn put her arms around him, offering silent support. Alex, who was now between them, thought it a fun game and smiled with delight.
“Is there anything I can do?” Quinn asked as she removed the baby carrier and unzipped Alex’s snowsuit.
“Just sit with me for a while,” Logan replied.
“You have to tell Sylvia, Logan. She’ll never forgive you if anything happens and she wasn’t here,” Quinn said gently.
“I know. I’ve tried ringing her several times, but couldn’t go through with it.”
“Would you like me to do it?”
Logan shook his head. “It has to come from me. Just give me a few more minutes.” He buried his face in his hands. “I can’t bear it, Quinn.”
“It’s not your fault, Logan,” she assured him, but knew her argument was falling on deaf ears. Logan would always blame himself if Jude died, or worse, remained a vegetable for the rest of his days.
“Even if it isn’t my fault, which is a big if, he’s still here, unconscious, fighting for his life. He’s my brother. Losing him would be like losing a limb.”
“Logan, he’s young and strong.”
“Plenty of young people die every day, some because they have no choice, and others because they’re stupid bloody wankers who take their life for granted and would sell their soul for a hit.”
There wasn’t much Quinn could say to that, so she pulled up a chair and sat next to Logan. He reached for Alex and held the baby against his chest, burying his face in Alex’s silky hair. “Don’t ever do anything stupid, you hear me?” Logan whispered to him. “Don’t ever destroy the people who love you.”
The Condemned (Echoes from the Past Book 6) Page 26
