Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) (37 page)

“We missed you!” Lauren moved in and Abigail slid from her father’s arms into her mother’s.

Donovan stood and gave Montero a brief hug, then watched in bewilderment as Lauren did the same. The last he knew, the two women weren’t friends, they didn’t even know or like each other.

“It’s so good to see the both of you,” Montero said. “And I’m so sorry about Buck. I know everyone was close.”

Donovan inwardly winced at hearing Buck’s name, then recovered. “Eva, this is former FBI Agent Ronnie Montero, an old family friend.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Montero said. “We have a great deal to discuss.”

“You’re
the
Ronnie Montero?” Eva asked, as she looked from Montero to Lauren to Donovan.

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk on the flight to Washington,” Montero said. “Think of me as a new friend, and as your liaison with the FBI.”

“Aunt Veronica and I had fun!” Abigail announced. “I have a new pet. It’s a humpback whale!”

“A stuffed one,” Montero added.

“Aunt Veronica?” Donovan questioned.

“Abigail’s the only one who gets to call me by that name,” Montero said with force.

“It looks like they’re pulling up the car now,” Lauren said, then addressed Abigail. “We’ll be back in an hour or so. Can you be a good girl and let Daddy and me go somewhere that’s just for
grown-ups? When we come back, all of us are going to fly home to Virginia.”

“Can you bring me back something?”

“It sounds like you’ve been getting plenty of new things.”

“We’ll get situated and wait for you here,” Montero said.

Donovan followed Lauren and Eva down the steps and out into the cool evening air of Northern California. The smell of the ocean and the trees reminded him of his long-ago home. As he thought of his past in Monterey, it suddenly occurred to him that Lauren was taking him to the one place he’d never been.

The drive to the cemetery was brief, and as they wheeled in through the ornate gate, Donovan felt his throat tighten. The driver followed Eva’s directions until she instructed him to pull over and stop. Cypress and pine trees grew tall among the marble grave markers. In the distance, Donovan could see the ocean.

“It’s beautiful,” Lauren said.

“I used to come here and visit her grave,” Eva said. “But I haven’t been here for years.”

“I can stay here if you’d like,” Lauren said.

“No, I need you,” Donovan said, and they all got out of the car as Eva led the way. Donovan clutched Lauren’s hand as they wound their way to the base of a Cypress tree overlooking the rolling hills that ended at the sea.

Quiet tears rolled freely down Donovan’s face as he saw her grave marker. Meredith Helen Barnes. The stone was simple marble—her birth and death dates carved in the polished face—a life that had ended far too young. Her parents had added a simple inscription: “One earth, one voice—forever.” Lauren squeezed Donovan’s hand to let him know she was there for him. He was aware that Eva was standing slightly apart from them, her face wet from tears. She looked at him, and when Donovan held out a hand to her, she took it and moved in close.

As Donovan drifted through his sadness, he understood that
so many things had changed. Aftershocks from his past seemed to ripple the air around him. With Eva, he held the hand of the brave fifteen-year-old who was the conduit to Meredith’s last days. Eva represented a miracle that Donovan had sought for twenty-two years. Lauren represented the future that Meredith had wished for him, and Lauren the only woman he could imagine spending it with. Standing there, he realized his weren’t the tears of rage, or even regret, they were the tears of absolution and the hope for a better future. Meredith, through Eva, had set him free.

A week had passed since Howard “Buck” Buckley had been memorialized at Arlington National Cemetery. Hundreds of people had attended—both military and civilian. Donovan had met Buck’s family, his girlfriend Shannon, his extended family, and so many other people whose lives Buck had touched. He heard over and over how much Buck had loved working for Eco-Watch, and Donovan was pleased to announce that the new Eco-Watch ship under construction would be christened the
Howard Buckley
.

The day had been an emotional one, yet in the end, Buck had lived well, and, as his close friends had eulogized, Buck had died well—unselfishly saving the lives of those counting on him. Donovan spent some time with Buck’s former SEAL team members. Each one of them explained that they would throw themselves on a grenade if it meant saving the others. It was how they operated, and Buck had exemplified that dedication to duty.

Now, a week later, Donovan could let his thoughts of Buck sit quietly in the background. He inhaled and took in the perfect Northern Virginia evening. For the first time in twenty-two years, friends gathered at Donovan’s country house. They were a collection of special people, and they all had come, no questions asked.

Abigail was having a day. At the moment, she was sitting on Aunt Veronica’s lap, with William on one side, and Stephanie, her foot now out of the cast, on the other. Abigail was hamming it up as Stephanie shot pictures.

To William’s left sat Eva, who was talking with Erin Walker, a reporter for the
Washington Post
. Between Lauren and Montero, William’s issues with the FBI task force had evaporated. The mess they’d left behind in Guatemala City was a little more difficult to solve, but Eva’s deposition and William’s political clout went a long way in absolving William, or anyone at Eco-Watch, of any wrongdoing. Donovan then issued sizable hazardous-duty checks to every Eco-Watch employee who was involved, including Cesar. The success of the
Scimitar
, though limited, was impressive enough for the Eco-Watch board to authorize the construction of two more. The Bell 412 had been seized by the Guatemalan government, and Donovan had finally shrugged off the loss as the cost of doing business. They were working with Bell for a replacement.

“Donovan, look who I found,” Lauren said, as she came out of the house with Henry Parrish in tow.

Donovan stood and the two old friends shook hands. It had been years since they’d last seen each other in Chicago, at Leo Singer’s funeral. Leo had been a longtime mutual friend who knew both Donovan and his father, as well as Donovan’s secret. Donovan wished Leo had lived long enough to be at this gathering. Despite the never-ending stress of being the CEO of Wayfarer Airlines, Donovan thought Henry looked well. “Thank you for coming. It’s been too long.”

“How could I say no to your lovely wife’s invitation to attend a family get-together?”

“She’s tough to say ‘no’ to,” Donovan replied.

“I can’t believe how big Abigail is getting,” Henry said. “She’s as beautiful as her mother.”

“Thank you,” Lauren said, then turned to Donovan. “I think we’re all here.”

“I guess it’s time then,” Donovan took his cue. The seven people in the entire world who knew his real identity were finally in one place.

“Abigail, honey, can you please come inside for a minute?” Lauren called to her daughter.

Montero lowered Abigail to the ground and she ran toward her mother.

“I’d like to introduce my good friend, Henry Parrish,” Donovan addressed everyone seated on the patio. “I’ve known Henry since our days flying together at Huntington Oil. Henry, I believe you know William and Stephanie. That’s Erin Walker, and next to her is Eva Rocha, the newest member of this little group. And last, but not least, is Ronnie Montero. You may have read about her in the newspaper a while back.”

“Or on television, or on the cover of magazines,” Henry added. “She’s more famous than you are.”

“As it should be,” Donovan laughed. “The bar is over there, help yourself. Mingle and chat, I need to go help Lauren and Abigail.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Henry asked.

“Relax and enjoy yourself,” Donovan said, as he left his guests on the patio and went to find his wife. He found her and Abigail in the kitchen, putting the final touches on the refreshments. Several bottles of very expensive champagne had been opened and placed on ice. Donovan took the bottles out to the patio, Lauren followed with the glasses, and Abigail carried the napkins.

Once everyone was seated and the champagne poured, Donovan stood and cleared his throat. “I’ll be brief, but I would like to say a few things. Thank you all for being here. It’s been too long since a group of friends gathered at this home. You’ve made today one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time. As you all know, at times, my situation seems to make things complicated, for me, and for my family as well. A fact that has caused me to withdraw from the people I need the most. What I ended up doing was making things worse, for me and for them. Recent
events have allowed me to take a long, hard look at the important aspects of my life, which leads back to all of you.”

“My solution to this situation is to say ‘hello.’ I’ve missed you. Of all the souls in this world, the seven of you are the individuals I feel most comfortable with. It’s my wish that we all be friends, or perhaps more than that—a family of sorts. I want you in my life, my family’s life, and I want us to be a part of your life. In the past, I let the knowledge you had about me keep us apart, when I should have welcomed the fact that you respected what you knew, and continued to keep it a secret. For that I am forever grateful, and it’s why you are the most important people in the world to me.”

Donovan held up his glass. “To William and Stephanie, you inherited me, and from that moment to this one, I’ve been in good hands. To Erin Walker, if memory serves me correctly, you and I met right here at this house. You were trespassing, and a police officer introduced us. Thank you for keeping your promise.

“To Ronnie Montero, former FBI agent, and apparently my daughter’s second-favorite aunt, we met in an interrogation room in Florida. We got to know each other as we chased down a terrorist, and you too, kept your promise. To Henry Parrish, we met on the job more years ago than I care to remember. You formed the foundation for me to become not just a privileged pilot, but also a serious professional. Thank you for that gift.

“To Eva Rocha, a remarkable young woman, who for twenty-two years carried a final message to me from Meredith. Eva, you humble me with your strength and perseverance.

“And finally, to my wife Lauren, and our daughter Abigail, I can’t imagine a world where we’re not together. Cheers.”

Everyone raised their glasses and sipped their champagne.

“There is one more thing,” Donovan said as he drew Abigail closer. “As a way to say ‘thank you’ for allowing me to live the life I’ve chosen, I wanted to share a little something to help each of you live the life of your choosing.”

Abigail took five envelopes from her dad, and, with Lauren’s
help, hand-delivered an envelope to Montero, Erin, Stephanie, Henry, and Eva.

“Please, open them.” Donovan watched the expressions as five people opened envelopes and discovered five-million-dollar checks made out to each of them; the funds drawn from an account William oversaw, money that could in no way be traced to Donovan’s Huntington Oil fortune. Lauren hugged him as he took in the sight of this small gathering of people who had changed his life for the better. Now he’d returned the favor, and, for the first time in a very long time, Donovan felt whole.