“He would have had a very difficult time trying to dispose of the gold, even if they had gotten away Scot-free,” Hugh said.
Ben added, “I have a suspicion he would have had it melted down—shaped into bars. What a waste of valuable artifacts. Or it’s possible he already had some foreign buyer ready to take it off his hands.”
“He may have hoped to accomplish one of those plans, but it hardly matters now. We’ll never know what his next step would have been.” Hugh said. “The ‘loot’ is safe in the hands of the museum. I understand the Spanish have several special guards en route to personally keep an eye on the exhibit.”
“Who could blame them,” Olivia said. “I wonder how he managed to collect such an assortment of misfits to do his bidding.”
Hugh had one more piece of information. It had been confirmed that the young man killed by the bull was not ‘Clive Warren,’ but a man named Gareth Logan, employee at a computer company in London. He turned to Olivia and said, “I mentioned to Interpol what you told me about his brother in prison. Their inquiry showed that he does indeed have a younger brother in prison.”
Ben said, “Well, that’s another piece of the puzzle, but do we know how it fits?”
Hugh replied, “I think that as the investigation progresses they’ll find some link between one of Brett’s goons and some prisoner in the same facility. He was probably manipulated with a threat to his brother’s life. The young man is all right at present and will be separated from the general population until the investigation is completed. The Interpol team stopped one of the men apprehended in the storage hangar before he could complete a call to execute any more of Brett’s plans.”
“There’s still the matter of who sent that email hinting at where they were.”
“We may never find out,” Hugh said, clearly frustrated. “Whoever sent it was good. The agency is still trying to trace it.”
Paris, who had been quietly pacing the room, joined the conversation. “It had to be someone who cared about one of them—or both.”
Hugh nodded his head in agreement and said, “My best guess is Gareth Logan, aka Clive Warren.”
Ben looked down, and in a subdued voice he said, “This became a case of ‘let no good deed go unpunished.’”
His father was quick to respond, his tone emphatic. “Ben, your actions were justified. He made a choice. But of course such an outcome is regrettable.” Paris was quick to add that Ben’s justifiable actions were also foolhardy.
It was a lot to take in, and the group turned quiet, each one lost in thought. Ben broke the silence by returning to the subject of Valerie. He repeated his previous statement that they had something unexpected to deal with. Ben explained Valerie’s reaction to him, her seeming refuge in the past, and the upset about her wedding ring, something she hadn’t worn for a very long time. He then told them what the doctor had said. Everyone agreed the Amesworths should be informed and arrangements made to get them to Spain right away. Hugh offered to pull some strings to get them on a plane within hours and asked Paris to call them. She left the ER and dialed Valerie’s parents. She wondered how best to tell them what had happened, and that they needed to come immediately.
Ben called Ana to tell her what was going on and to explain he was headed back to Valerie’s room to keep up the charade until an evaluation was made of her psychological condition. Since it would be touch and go for another twenty-four hours post-surgery, he was concerned that any additional shock could be damaging. Ana tried her best to be sympathetic, but there was a nagging doubt about Valerie’s influence on Ben, and whether she could pull him into the past with her. She decided to go to the hospital and see first-hand what would transpire.
* * *
The cab pulled up and stopped at the hospital entrance. The driver turned around and informed Ana of the fare. Anxious and distracted by her situation she paid him too much, the amount of the tip putting a wide smile on his face. She got out, thanked him, and hurriedly followed the walkway to the hospital entrance. She approached the main reception desk and asked for Olivia McKinnon, hoping the woman on duty spoke English. She was directed to the ER, where Olivia still remained, and while en route a variety of scenarios passed through her mind. Would they be glad to see her, or would they feel she was an intruder? Would Ben chastise her for not waiting at the hotel? Would he be keeping vigil at Valerie’s bedside and not even notice she was there? Where had her self-confidence gone? Was this the price one paid for caring… for falling in love? Was she in love? She couldn’t deny that something profound was changing her, hour by hour, day by day. It was Ben. Her heart had become vulnerable.
Her earlier presence in the ER meant nothing to the nurse on duty. It took some fancy verbal footwork to gain entrance to the area where Olivia was being cared for. Ana walked slowly and quietly to the fourth cubicle on the right. She heard familiar voices and stopped for a moment to regain her composure before carefully pulling aside the curtain. Hugh and Paris turned in tandem as she stuck her head through the curtains and asked
