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Gedeon got as close to her as possible, his thigh pressed tightly against hers, one arm sliding along the back of the bench. He didn’t give a fuck if they blew the entire setup they’d fabricated for McGregor Handler. He had a very bad feeling. He’d asked Rene to keep an eye on the Frenchman’s two nephews, but he hadn’t followed up. He should have. He knew better than to leave loose ends, especially when his gut told him not to. He told himself to take a breath; they could handle the two men if they came looking for trouble.

She pulled up the email from Etienne but didn’t open it immediately. She retrieved another program and opened the email in that program. At first there were only numbers and symbols floating all over the page, but then order began to restore itself quickly and lines of text appeared.

They read the report Etienne had compiled for her. Jules and Louis had left their home in France and traveled back to Venezuela. From what Etienne could ascertain from a quiet investigation, they had heard someone was making inquiries about a woman with Meiling’s description, or at least a vague or close description to hers. The people looking for her were willing to pay a great deal of money for any information that might lead to her whereabouts. Jules and Louis knew she had friends who lived on a farm in the area.

Beside him, Meiling stiffened. A single sound escaped her.

Gedeon wanted to yank the phone from her hand. Damn these relentless, cruel bastards who would never stop hunting her because she had gifts they feared. Now they really had someone to fear. They had a reason. Had they simply left her alone, everyone would have been fine, but they just wouldn’t stop coming after her. Gedeon wasn’t going to allow it to continue.

The phone was shaking. He removed it from her hand to steady it so they could both finish reading. The farm was burned to the ground. Those residing there were tortured. Etienne described the way the tortures had been conducted and Gedeon recognized them. They were very distinctive and had been used on his father. They had also been used to make a point on some of the women who wouldn’t cooperate when they were trafficking them. Etienne’s conclusion was that the men seeking Meiling now knew her name and everything her friends at the farm knew about her. He advised she move immediately and go into hiding. He had tracked down his nephews and dispensed justice to them. He owed her more than he could ever repay.

Gedeon watched as the document slowly destructed, blackening first around the edges, and then black holes appeared throughout until it was entirely gone, as if it had never been. Meiling didn’t say a word. She sat staring at the river, watching the water rush past. He doubted she knew tears were on her face. He knew they weren’t for her.

“Tell me about them.”

She turned her face up to his. He brushed at the tracks of wet with his thumb as gently as possible. She broke his heart.

“Your friends on the farm, Lotus Blossom. Tell me about them. Give them to me.”

Her tongue moistened her lower lip and her hand slipped onto his thigh. She did that sometimes when she sought comfort. He knew she was unaware of that very small gesture, but he loved it. Meiling was a woman: confident and independent. It wasn’t often that she admitted to herself or anyone else she needed comfort or help.

“Bridget and her husband, Esteban, own the farm. Esteban went to school to become a better farmer and understand how to keep the soil rich and producing. Their farm has done so well, producing enough food to feed the neighboring farms and ranches. Most of those are run by the reigning crime family and harvested for drugs, not food. So Bridget and Esteban provide an enormous amount of the vegetables for the workers on those farms. They were always left alone.” Her voice broke.

He caught her chin. “Tell me about them, Lotus. Not their farm. What they were like as people. You aren’t to blame for this any more than my father was to blame for what his best friend did to our family. We can’t shoulder those responsibilities, as much as our brains would like us to take them on. We make too many mistakes of our own. Tell me about Bridget, your friend, and Esteban, her husband.”

Her fingers dug into the muscle of his thigh, but she turned her face up to his again and he got a genuine Meiling smile. It was a bit watery and melancholy, but he would take it.

“Bridget is the sweetest, kindest woman on planet Earth. I’ve never seen her without a happy smile on her face. She’s kind of like the sun coming out in the morning. You can’t be grumpy around her. Her laugh is contagious. All the while she’s talking to you, she’s working. She can’t be still. She’s cleaning, or cooking, or baking or gardening. She loves her garden.” She fell silent abruptly as she realized she was speaking about Bridget as if she were still alive.


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