man he didn't really know.
Duarte fixed his eyes on him, then turned to walk away, gathering his thoughts with a heavy sigh and hands on his hips. Keeping his back to Christian, he began again.
'Chief Zharan has openly talked about Charboneau's involvement, but as you can imagine, his testimony would carry little weight against a man like him. And Dr. Phillips is far too scared to point a finger at either man. It seems the passports for his entire family were withheld to force him to stay and cooperate. Zharan is in possession of these passports, so I still have no connection to Nicholas Charboneau,' he admitted. 'And Zharan is blaming Fuentes for his overzealous approach in carrying out his orders regarding the homeless men they delivered to the lab for testing. Dr. Phillips may have conducted the tests and experiments, but he claims not to know how they disposed of these men. Fuentes was ordered to dispose of them afterward. We will get to the bottom of this, but I suspect there's a mass grave out there that we may never find. Someone should pay for such an atrocity.'
He was right. Someone should be held accountable for what happened to those men.
'Aren't you afraid I'll pass this on to Charboneau?' Christian asked. 'Why are you telling me this?'
A long awkward silence passed between them. Finally, Captain Duarte turned around to face him.
'Because you risked your life to protect the others. And I pride myself on being a good judge of character. I believe the actions of a man say much about his true nature.' Duarte smiled for the first time, the effort taxing.
'You did the same. Thank you, Captain.'
'I think by now you can call me Luis, yes?'
Christian shrugged and nodded. 'It took guts to go against your chief of police.'
'The man thought of himself as superior, and he used his position of power to corrupt those around him. I came from one of the
'You are a philosopher, Luis.' Christian smiled, seeing the man for perhaps the first time. 'I suppose the research at Genotech will come to a halt until things are sorted out.'
'Yes, but there are many credible facilities throughout the world. If I have my say, I will shut the place down. That message you can take back to Mr. Charboneau. No matter how he wants to color his benevolence, his money will no longer be required.'
'I appreciate your candor, but why didn't you come forward and tell me what was going on? Raven and I nearly got killed out there.'
'I know, and I am very sorry for my part in that, but you have to understand. I did not know your connection to Charboneau. You could have been working for his syndicate and lying to me. My case against Zharan was in its infancy. I could not afford to make a mistake.' He shook his head. 'I deeply regret what might have happened. I escalated my actions to help. I hope you understand. So much was at stake, the lives of many.'
'So what happens now?' Christian crossed his arms.
Duarte's contrite expression grew stern. 'Chief Zharan and Fuentes will have many charges against them, not the least of which will be aggravated kidnapping and extortion on the man I suspect was his partner. I hope you appreciate the irony. Mario Araujo will testify. He should receive a light sentence for his cooperation. By the end of all this, Zharan's list of offenses should surpass his arrogance.'
Duarte scaled back his stern attitude. 'I cannot say how the case against Charboneau will end. That remains to be seen. I ask only your discretion, and one other thing.'
'Yeah? What's that?'
'Don't disappoint me, Mr. Delacorte.' He grinned, almost a smirk.
'Don't plan to, Captain Duarte.' Christian shook his hand and watched him leave the room, but felt rooted where he stood, unable to rejoin his father.
He wasn't sure he could ignore his doubts about his father. Nothing might ever be proven, yet a wall had been erected in his mind by a presumption of guilt rather than innocence. Christian couldn't shake the feeling, and knew that any future with his newfound father would be tainted by it.
The harsh reality stacked up to an impenetrable wall and the truth glared at him in the face. His mother, Fiona, had been right to keep the man's name a secret from him all these years. Nicholas Charboneau made his wealth off criminal activities. End of story. His fantasy of having a relationship with the man after all these years had been just that—a fantasy.
How would he face the man now? And worse, did he care what his father thought?
CHAPTER 28
The next few days were filled by hours at the hospital, with time spent in between at police headquarters. In the end, Duarte reluctantly gave Nicholas the clearance to leave the country—the sooner the better. The cop was not a happy man, but he had an impressive case built against Chief Zharan and Fuentes. Both men turned finger pointing into a lost art. Once they got going, neither would shut up.
Even though Christian had doubts about his father's involvement, he'd probably never know the truth now. He found it hard to act as if nothing had changed between them but he'd come to terms with his own feelings. In the end, he had to settle for doing the right thing and saving the man's life, returning the favor Jasmine had done for him.
He was okay with that.
On the day they were scheduled to leave Brazil, Christian found his father exactly where he thought he'd be, at the bedside of Jasmine Lee. It didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep. Charboneau hadn't noticed him and Raven standing in the doorway to the private hospital room.
Recovering from an almost lethal bullet wound, Jasmine looked pale but beautiful, her fresh-faced childlike innocence had been restored as she slept. Nicholas sat near the bed, his chair pushed close. He held her hand and stroked her hair, his eyes fixed on her as if he might awaken her by sheer force of will.
Maybe he could.
Christian had no desire to intrude. He only wanted one last look as reassurance Jasmine would be okay. Because of her strength and unflinching love for his father, she had done what she came to Brazil to do— save his life. Thanks to her, Christian knew he would have some semblance of a future with his father, such as he was. The last piece to the puzzle of his life was named Nicholas Charboneau. In the grand scheme of things, the man was no prize in the humanitarian department, but Christian felt a certain serenity just having met him. He had to be satisfied with that. Maybe one day he would be.
He watched his father. So much remained unsaid between them, all the questions without answers. Given all that had happened, he would not find a resolution today. And he hated awkward good-byes, especially those tinged with the implied obligation between an estranged father and son.
His trip to Brazil had taught him what mattered most was not where he'd come from, but where he was going. His past didn't define him anymore. He could paint a life worth living, one paintbrush stroke at a time, on the blank canvas of his future. And Raven had more to do with that than Nicholas Charboneau. He knew that now. With reluctance, Christian backed out of the room and turned to go, slipping his hand in Raven's. He stopped when he heard his father's voice.
'Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?'
So much for the old man not noticing.
'I figured the next step was yours.' Christian stuck his head back in the room with Raven at his side. He kept his voice low with Jasmine sleeping. 'You know where to reach me in Chicago. I think you've known that for a while.'
'Yes, I suppose so.' Nicholas stood and joined him at the doorway. 'But I'm not exactly father of the year material, if you know what I mean.'
