“I did know that, Scott, and thank you. I’m sorry I never got back to you. That was a weird time for me. Shit, I never got back to a lot of people. But I knew you had called. It meant a lot to me. I’m a shit for not letting you know.”
“No,” Scott said, waving him off. “I can only imagine what you were going through. I just wanted you to know that I heard about your situation and had you on my mind, that’s all. Everyone back at BCI was thinking about you.”
Walt pointed at the bar behind him. “Let me buy you a drink?”
Scott nodded. “Sure. Beefeater and tonic.”
Walt ordered from the bartender and handed Scott his drink.
“To old friends,” Scott said, taking his glass and tipping it toward Walt.
Walt smiled. “Old friends.”
“So what have you been up to? God knows I’ve asked enough people. Nobody knows what happened to you.”
Walt smiled. “Nothing exciting. I had to get out of town for a while, so I did.”
“Where’d you go?”
Walt paused before answering. “Uh, I actually headed to Jamaica. I thought it would be for a month or two. Turns out, I never came back.”
“Jamaica?”
Walt nodded. “Negril, on the West End.”
“I wouldn’t know Jamaica from Aruba. And what? You’re going to sit on a beach the rest of your life?”
“Not really sure. The Bureau gave me a nice pension, and I don’t have any definitive plans at the moment.”
“Sounds like life is good. I’m glad to see you doing well, Walt.”
Walt smiled and nodded again. Over Scott Sherwood’s shoulder and through the crowd, he finally spotted her. He hadn’t been looking, yet somehow his gaze was drawn to her. She was talking to someone, and laughing in a way that brought comfort to his heart. A heart that literally ached from time to time—mostly from the scar tissue that had formed, but sometimes, he was sure, because he missed her so much.
“Scott,” Walt said, taking his gaze off her to look at his old friend. “It was really good seeing you, buddy. I don’t mean to cut you off, but I’ve got to talk with someone I just noticed was here.”
“Of course. Thanks for the drink. Good seeing you, too. Jamaica, huh?”
Walt smiled. “Come down sometime. I’ve got an extra room.”
“You serious?”
Walt glanced back into the crowd, sensing an urgency to speak with her. As if another moment’s delay would cause him to miss his chance. He looked back at Scott Sherwood.
“Of course I’m serious.”
Scott set his drink on the bar and reached for his phone. “Let me get your number. Maybe I’ll call you to take you up on the offer.”
Walt smiled impatiently. He rattled off his cell phone number.
“You better answer when I call.”
Walt slapped his friend on the shoulder. “You bet. Good to see you, Scott.”
Walt turned and made his way through the crowd. She seemed to sense his presence because she turned just as he was approaching. Immediately, she smiled. They stared at each other for a moment; everyone else in the room disappeared. So much was spoken between them without either saying a word.
Finally, she reached out and put her arms around his neck.
Walt wrapped her in a tight hug.
“Hi, Meghan.”
“My God, it’s good to see you,” she whispered in his ear.
There were a thousand things Walt wanted to say. A thousand things he had rehearsed. Things he had thought about every day during the year that had passed since he had last seen her. That he loved her as much now as he did three years ago. That he missed her in a way he had never missed another person. That if the universe were a less cruel place, they’d have met each other earlier in life. That he hadn’t left because his love for her had faded, but because it was easier to be miserable living on an island in the Caribbean than in the same city as the woman he loved but couldn’t be with.
Walt said none of those things, though. He just closed his eyes and held her tight, feeling her heart thud against his own.
CHAPTER 10
Sister Bay, WI Friday, June 18, 2021
IT HAD BEEN YEARS SINCE ANYONE CALLED HER CLAIRE. NO ONE ELSE, in fact, referred to her today as anything other than Avery Mason. She wondered if it was really possible to erase a past and become someone else. Childhood memories rooted deeply in her subconscious told her that it was not. No matter how many years passed, some part of her would always be Claire Montgomery. The part of her that was tethered to Connie Clarkson had no other identity.