Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) (3 page)

Donovan deplaned in front of the Eco-Watch hangar at Washington Dulles International Airport. He’d spent his time on the chartered flight on the computer, pulling up everything he could find about Guatemala. He’d found it odd that Stephanie’s disappearance wasn’t mentioned in the news. He’d debated calling Lauren to announce his arrival, but since she was the one who set it up, she knew damn well when he’d land. He decided to wait and talk with her in person.

He let himself into the hangar. On Sunday, no one would be around, which suited Donovan. The hangar was home to Eco-Watch’s two highly modified Gulfstream jets. The
Spirit of da Vinci
was out of the country on a research mission in Africa, and the
Spirit of Galileo
was flight-testing a new instrumentation platform in California. Donovan operated under the title of Director of Flight Operations for Eco-Watch. Very few people knew that he’d not only founded the company, but that his hidden fortune also funded parts of the private research organization. Besides the two Gulfstream jets, Eco-Watch operated two ocean-going research ships, and the keel had been laid for a third. One was based in Hawaii and served the Pacific Ocean arena; the other called Norfolk, Virginia, its home port and sailed the Atlantic. Both the Eco-Watch Aviation and the Eco-Watch Marine divisions were booked months and sometimes years in advance.

Donovan walked into his office and found it exactly as he’d left it all those months ago. Michael had taken over the day-to-day
operations, and all that waited on Donovan’s desk were several pieces of personal correspondence. He turned to go, but hesitated at the sight of a picture taken the day Eco-Watch had begun. Twelve years earlier, he and Michael had arrived on the ramp outside with the very first Eco-Watch Gulfstream. Standing in front of the jet was the first handful of employees, but the person truly responsible—was missing. Donovan’s thoughts once again spun back in time to Meredith Barnes, the woman he couldn’t ever seem to bury.

It seemed a lifetime ago they’d met, but in ways it felt like yesterday. In all that time she’d remained the same—the dead earn that privilege. She was still twenty-eight years old, an intelligent, fiery redhead with emerald-green eyes and freckles. A brilliant woman who’d changed the world. First, by her environmentalist-themed bestseller,
One Earth
, then, by her wildly popular television show and string of documentaries about saving this planet we live on—our one earth. She became larger than her accomplishments. She became the face of an exploding environmental movement. Part celebrity, part television star, part global emissary, Meredith flew into the face of any and all opposition to accomplish her goals. Her followers, fueled by a media that loved her, ensured that her message was received by nearly everyone on the planet.

Robert Huntington at the time was a rich, brash young man who’d been elevated to CEO of his family’s oil company. He was smart and driven, a shrewd businessman, as was his late father. Robert was also smart enough to surround himself with the best and brightest men in the business. He was a playboy, a high visibility partygoer in Hollywood. It wasn’t unusual for his picture to be on the cover of a business magazine the same week he was on the cover of the gossip tabloids. He always seemed to have yet another beautiful A-list actress on his arm, while his wheeling and dealing propelled Huntington Oil into a major powerhouse in the global energy business.

When Robert Huntington met Meredith Barnes, sparks
flew. She very publicly tore up a three-million-dollar check he’d written toward her environmental causes and threw the pieces in his face. The media went wild, and Robert Huntington felt as if he’d met his match.

Their relationship progressed slowly and steadily, until they both acknowledged their feelings for one another on a romantic night in New Orleans. Robert had been at a conference dealing with offshore oil platform safety reforms. Despite heavy opposition to his costly recommendations, Robert had promised that Huntington Oil would proceed without a consensus to help create a zero-tolerance attitude toward any type of oil spill.

They were an unlikely power couple—the environmentalist and the oil tycoon. Members of both camps loudly denounced the relationship. There were constant murmurs that he was using her and vice-versa. They didn’t care and made future plans for themselves as a couple, as well as their common vision for a better planet. Their entire future came to an abrupt halt when Meredith was kidnapped and murdered at an environmental summit in Costa Rica. Robert Huntington was never a suspect in terms of the authorities, but in the public eye he may as well have pulled the trigger. Robert Huntington murdered the world’s beloved Meredith Barnes, and no amount of evidence would ever change the public’s mind.

The fallout was massive. Crowds threatened Huntington Oil, there were bomb threats, violence against employees, sabotaged equipment in the field. Shareholders demanded Robert’s resignation. Almost overnight, Robert Huntington had become the most hated man on earth. The threats became deadly, so much so that Robert wasn’t able to attend his fiancée’s funeral. Meredith was buried in Monterey, California, and he hadn’t been there to mourn or even say good-bye to the woman he loved.

What the public didn’t know was that Robert had asked Meredith to marry him. They were waiting to make their announcement until after the Costa Rica meeting. Then, as he tried to grieve the loss of the woman he had planned to spend the rest of
his life with, a reporter released a series of photographs depicting him romping on some remote beach with an unidentified blonde, instead of mourning his loss. The images were from years earlier, but the collective shriek of public outrage reached new and more dangerous levels.

Robert withdrew deeper into an alcohol-and-pill-infused depression. His best friend and guardian, William VanGelder, asked him candidly one night if he’d thought about ending his life. Robert admitted that he had. William’s response was: “When do you want to get started?” That night marked the beginning of the end of Robert Huntington’s life and the beginning of Donovan Nash. Barely three months later, Robert Huntington was killed when the plane he was piloting crashed at sea. A vengeful public cheered, funeral parties were thrown worldwide, the media spread the message that the universe had delivered Robert Huntington the violent ending he deserved.

Donovan tried to shake off the thoughts of Robert and Meredith, but, as always, found it difficult. He still missed Meredith, and he thought about her every day. He didn’t miss Robert Huntington. When Robert died, he became a new man, a blank slate, and Donovan had become twice the man that Robert was ever going to be. He’d built Eco-Watch, the preeminent nonprofit, private scientific research organization in the world. He provided funding for university projects, expeditions both on earth and in space. He maintained a fleet of state-of-the-art platforms, be it Gulfstream jets, helicopters, or ocean-going ships, all for the single purpose of furthering scientific research. Money was never an issue when it came to understanding the planet. He liked to think that Meredith would be proud of him. Eco-Watch was the monument he built to honor Meredith’s memory.

He fished out his keys and began the drive home, not exactly sure what he’d find. Would Lauren and Abigail be there, or would she have maintained her distance and gone somewhere else? Their marital stalemate was an ongoing process that defied predictability. He swung onto Pleasant Valley
Road, drove past the golf course, and Cox Farms. Up ahead was Virginia Run Elementary School, where he turned left and headed the final few blocks home. As he rounded the gentle curve of their street, he saw a familiar car in the driveway. The vintage green Jaguar belonged to William.

Donovan shut off the car, let himself in the front door, and called out to whoever was inside. He heard the familiar shriek of his four-year-old daughter followed by urgent footfalls as she raced toward the sound of his voice. She rounded the corner, all smiles, her curly reddish-blonde hair flying in the wind when she abruptly stopped, her smile replaced by confusion.

Donovan knelt, he understood his beard and long hair wasn’t what she’d expected. “It’s okay, Kitten, it’s Daddy.”

With the reassurance she needed, Abigail flung herself into his arms. Donovan felt the tears well up in his eyes as her little arms clamped fiercely around his neck. He drank in the smell of her shampoo and marveled at how much she’d grown since he’d last seen her. All of the things Skype doesn’t allow. Through the separation she’d seemed fine, she’d rolled with the travel, and if what she told Donovan was true, she thought of it all as a grand adventure. His daughter was a dreamer like he was, less analytical than her mother.

Abigail pulled away and gave him a big smooch on the cheek, then touched her skin where the whiskers had rubbed and made a face. She took his hand and began to lead him down the hallway. “Daddy, Mommy and Grandpa are in here. They won’t know who you are at first, either. Then I want to show you my room. I’m not a baby anymore, and I have a big bed and a desk. I drew some pictures for you. They’re of airplanes. The
da Vinci
and the
Galileo
.”

Donovan rounded the corner and found Lauren. She looked like she’d lost weight, and her auburn hair was longer. She looked good, as if being on her own suited her. They hugged, and Donovan kissed her on the cheek. It was then he noticed that her eyes were red. Lauren was not only one of the smartest people
he knew; she was also one of the strongest. She was a doctor, a scientist who for the most part looked at the world with a calm sense of methodical reasoning—one of the many things he loved about her.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, as she hesitated a moment and studied his beard and long hair. She reached out and stroked his whiskers, then brushed some of the hair away from his ear. “I like it. Go talk to William. He needs you. He’s in the study. I’ve already heard most of what he thinks might have happened, but you need to hear it as well.”

Donovan nodded, though the tone of her voice unsettled him.

“Come, Abigail,” Lauren said to her daughter. “Daddy has to talk to Grandpa for a little bit, and then he’s all yours. Remember what we’re going to do now?”

“Yeah!” Abigail said as she jumped up and down with excitement. “We’re going to make Daddy a chocolate cake for his birthday!”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Lauren said as she followed Abigail.

Donovan let himself into the study. William was seated on the sofa. As usual, he was wearing one of his trademark tailored suits, complete with vest and carefully knotted tie. Donovan knew he purchased his wardrobe from a small, but exclusive, shop in London. Tall and wiry, William had a head full of shock-white hair and piercing dark eyes that were surrounded by the lines of age. He was seventy-six years old, but as tough and hard-charging as men half his age. Donovan often joked to William that he would outlive them all. In the Washington, DC, inner political sanctum, William was revered by many and outright feared by others. He’d been a special envoy to the State Department for the better part of three decades. William had amassed a huge fortune, first as Donovan’s father’s right-hand-man at Huntington Oil, then as Robert’s.

They’d been inseparable in life and business since Donovan
was a boy. William had raised him from the age of fourteen when he’d become his legal guardian. Guided by William’s vast experience and expansive view of the world, Donovan knew that nearly everything he’d accomplished was either directly, or indirectly, the result of his relationship with William. He was one of six people in the world who knew the truth—that he was once Robert Huntington.

“Lauren finally admitted she’d contacted you,” William stood to meet Donovan. The two men shook hands warmly, and then it quickly turned into a hug. “I had mixed feelings, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I came as fast as I could.” Donovan pulled back. Etched on William’s lined face were dark circles and overall signs of stress, reconfirming Donovan’s commitment to help in any way possible.

“How are you, son? Are you okay?” William asked as he looked him up and down.

“I’m fine,” Donovan replied. “I took the time off. I needed it. But I’m here to talk about you and what’s happened to Stephanie.”

William lowered himself back to the sofa. He rubbed his eyes as if trying to compose himself in preparation for what he was about to say. Donovan waited. He knew William well enough to know the statesman was nothing if not deliberate.

“I’ve already given Lauren a quick version of events as I know them. I’ll admit, I have serious reservations about telling you any of this, but in the end I know you’d never forgive me if I kept you in the dark. Four days ago, there was a minor eruption of a long-dormant volcano in Guatemala. As you may or may not know, Stephanie had recently decided to resume her career in photography. At the behest of a former editor, she immediately boarded a plane and flew to Guatemala City, where she joined up with a United States Geological Survey team that was en route to the volcano. That’s the last anyone’s seen or heard from her. That was twenty-seven hours ago.”

“Then what?” Donovan asked, fearing the answer. He could see that William was trying to gauge his next words carefully.

“This morning, the Guatemalan police searched the mountain where the USGS team was headed. They found the bodies of the two scientists and the guard who was assigned to protect them. They’d all been shot and buried in shallow graves. There was no sign of Stephanie.”

Donovan shifted uncomfortably, he knew what was coming and could feel the sudden heat as his face went flush. There was a ringing in his ears, and his shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been placed on top of him. His mind raced back and forth between Stephanie and the unavoidable memories of Meredith Barnes. The effect was quick and devastating. Donovan pressed his fingers to his temples as both guilt, sorrow, and anger all fought to consume him.

“We don’t know anything for sure,” William put his hand on Donovan’s shoulder. “She may have escaped. She could simply be out of contact in some village. I can tell from the look on your face I was right in being hesitant to tell you about any of this.”