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“Depends on why you changed it.”
“To find freedom.”
“Then it’s easy. You’re Aaron Holland from now on. You live on a sailboat and sail the Caribbean. Every few months you come back to Jamaica to work at a rum distillery. There are worse things than that.”
“I’m worried about the money. I don’t feel right taking it from you.”
“It’s already done,” Avery said. “Too late to worry now.”
Her contract from HAP News had been finalized earlier in the fall. It named Avery as the host of American Events for the next five years. Dwight Corey had negotiated tirelessly and Mosley Germaine and David Hillary had signed off on the final details of the contract that would pay Avery $3 million a year for five years. Even at that number, Avery argued that she was undervalued. The show’s most recent numbers had proven she was correct. The Victoria Ford special, which spanned three episodes, had brought the second highest ratings in American Events history. That Avery’s investigative reporting, and the new evidence she unearthed, had spurred the re-opening of the Cameron Young investigation only added notoriety to her already powerful name. Cameron Young was back in the news, and serious questions were being raised about who had killed him. The evidence that had once so clearly pointed at Victoria Ford was now being questioned. The idea that the blood and the urine had so clearly been manipulated and planted came under immense scrutiny. The Innocence Project had even gotten involved, promising to continue the crusade to prove Victoria Ford’s innocence.
The American Events special had not named names as to who might have planted the evidence, because to do so was a liability the network was not prepared to take. And it had never been Avery’s goal to solve the case. She’d made just two promises. The first was to Emma Kind that Avery would do her best to show the world that Victoria was innocent. The second was to Natalie Ratcliff that, in exchange for Natalie’s help, Avery would stay silent on the truth about Victoria’s disappearance. She had made good on both.
The Victoria Ford special was topped in the ratings only by Avery’s exposé on her father, the Thief of Manhattan. The two-part series covered the life of Claire Montgomery, aka Avery Mason, and detailed how Avery had worked with the FBI to track her father down and bring him to justice. During the negotiations on how Avery would deliver her father, she had insisted that the federal agents wear cameras and microphones. The body cam footage from the SWAT team as they crashed through the front door of the isolated, lonely cabin in the mountains of Lake Placid was something not to be missed. And no one did. Twenty-two million viewers tuned in to watch the episode. For Avery, the episode was cathartic on many fronts.
In the end, despite her mild protests, Avery knew the contract from HAP News provided everything she had asked for, and more. Dwight structured the deal to be front-loaded, and it paid Avery a signing bonus of $3 million. She did two things with the bonus. First, she opened an account at Cainvest Bank and Trust on Grand Cayman in the name of Aaron Holland, with a starting balance of $100,000. It would be enough for Christopher to start his new life. The second thing Avery did was pay for the sailboat. She sent the cashier’s check certified, overnight, and knew it would arrive later today.
Avery looked around the marina. “Better get going, big brother.”
There were no surveillance cameras here and Avery knew no one in the government was interested in her whereabouts any longer—Walt had made sure of that before allowing her to come to Jamaica. Her fame, however, drew the odd paparazzi, and the last thing Avery needed were photos of her and her dead brother showing up in the tabloids. She wasn’t too concerned. This port was off the beaten path and far from the touristy areas of the island. Still, even with no one paying attention to the three Americans standing on the dock, Avery knew if they waited much longer one of them might back out of the plan. They had come too far to get cold feet now.
Christopher nodded. He turned to Walt.
“Thanks for all your help.”
“Sure thing,” Walt said. “You know where I live if you need anything.”
Christopher turned to Avery. She felt him kiss her forehead. He didn’t say anything more. There was nothing left to say. Instead, he climbed onto his new vessel. Avery untied the lines as the engine rumbled to life.
“Stay safe,” she said.
Ten minutes later, Claire-Voyance II was motoring out of the marina. Once it was in the open water, Avery saw the main sail climb the mast and fill with air. The front sail followed and the boat heeled slightly to the left as it took on an eastern tack and headed into the morning sun.
“So,” Walt said. “How long are you staying?”
“I’m off for a week.”
“Then what?”
“You tell me,” Avery said.
Walt took her hand as they walked along the dock. “I was thinking I should start spending some more time in the States.”
Avery looked at him with slivered eyes. “I thought you hated New York.”
“I do. I was thinking California is more my style.”
CHAPTER 78
Sister Bay, WI Friday, October 29, 2021
THE BROWN UPS TRUCK DROVE NORTH THROUGH THE DOOR COUNTY peninsula. The driver’s stops included the towns of Fish Creek and Ephraim before heading up to Sister Bay. It was 2:30 p.m. when he turned into the parking lot of Connie Clarkson’s sailing camp, grabbed the overnight envelope from the stack next to him, scanned the bar code, and dropped it on the front porch of the main office. He rang the bell and hustled back to his truck. He was pulling away when the front door opened.
Connie looked down to see the UPS envelope on the ground. She picked it up and walked back into the kitchen, where she dropped it on the table. A kettle of water was on the stove and had just started to whistle. She turned the burner off and poured the boiling water into a mug with the strings of two tea bags hanging over the rim. She allowed them to steep for two minutes, then pulled the tea bags from the mugs and dropped them in the garbage. She brought her mug to the kitchen table and sat down. She tore the thread from the top of the UPS envelope. Pushing the edges together, she saw that there was a single piece of paper inside, along with a business-sized white envelope.
She turned the package over and the contents slid onto the table. Lifting the paper, she unfolded it. It held a short, handwritten message:
Dear Connie,
