“He’s paying my medical bills, if that’s not an attempt to reconcile, I don’t know what is. I just can’t stand seeing you suffering. Let me worry about you, for once!”
I sighed looking at him. I did need to thank Owen for his help, if nothing else. “You know, you might be right. Thanks, I’ll try.”
“Please, do. For your own sake. And for mine, I can’t handle you moping around here anymore.”
I pushed him as he laughed. “Fine, I’ll find him, okay?”
+++
I got home that evening and did the only thing I could think to do.
Google Owen Hayes. And pray something of value came up. I saw dozens of articles surrounding both the company and person, but I ignored all that – all I cared about was how to find someone who didn’t want to be found. What I did look into was the company’s address and phone number.
I made numerous calls, but when one finally connected, the secretary said, “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to disclose phone numbers of my superiors.”
Which wasn’t a surprise on its own, but the way the woman spoke, it was as if she’d been trained to say exactly that sentence. I hung up and tried another number. Same result. The next number wasn’t much better. I had tried every number with every extension on the corporate website, but each time I was either denied the information or given another number that led to nothing.
Finally, once I had exhausted the list, I tried to find something useful in one of the articles. I discovered that a lot of it was appalling speculation and straight up defamation, but I tried not to think about. After twenty minutes, I finally found the glimmer of hope I’d been searching for – Owen’s lawyer.
The man had been quoted in one of the stories, so I looked him up, and then found my firm. I made the call.
It went through to his assistant, of course, and I received the same treatment as I had at Owen’s offices.
“I have some information on Owen Hayes,” I tried.
“I’m afraid we are not interested in any tips on the matter at this time.” Another automated response.
“Please! Tell him it’s Sydney Mercer!”
“Miss, like I’ve said–”
I was starting to lose hope, but then the call was cut short abruptly. A male voice said, “Miss Mercer?”
“Yes! Are you Owen’s lawyer? Can you tell me where he is? I need to speak with him. I have to fix things.”
He replied, “Miss Mercer, I’m afraid you won’t be able to
reach Owen at this time. Communication is kept to a minimum, until things are sorted out.”
“I see.”
After a short silence, he said, “But I will pass on that you’ve called him. Anything you want to say?”
“Just thank him from me and my brother. Declan is getting better. And tell him that I’m waiting for his return. I’d like to thank him, in person.”
“Very well, Miss Mercer. Now, if you don’t mind, don’t try to find him, okay? He will find you, when the time is right.”
“Thanks,” I said, but there were only short beeps on the other end.
Chapter 21
Owen
“Is that all she said?” I asked. I was on the island, taking a walk up in its hills, trying my hardest not to go insane. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, Owen. Sydney thanks you, and she’s waiting for you. Nothing to worry about. Her brother is getting better.”
“Good, good. Thanks for the update. Now, where are we with the case? To be honest, Lucas, I’m losing it down here.”