She cashed in dozens of the policies over a three month period before her disappearance. She'd covered her tracks well by using the men willing to do her biding for her. They set up bank accounts in other countries and used fake documents to create companies that never existed.
By the time she drove her car to the spot it was found, she had accumulated enough wealth to take care of Frederick and her forever. She'd hid in plain sight in a motel near Logan Airport. A quick change of hair color and a new identity was all she needed.
"Why didn't you just leave your wife?"
He looks down to examine the fingernails on his right hand. "Greed."
"Greed?" I parrot back. "In what sense?"
"The more you have, the more you want," he says the words without looking at me. "Before Lydia disappeared, she'd set up two life insurance policies for me, or I thought she had."
I can't contain the grin I feel pulling at the corners of my mouth." You thought she had?"
He nods slowly. "By the time I'd worked my way back to the hotel after the boating accident, Lydia was gone. All that was left was a suitcase filled with documents. I never saw her again."
Chapter 17
––––––––
I take a small sip of water from a plastic cup I'd filled at a fountain in the corner of the visitor hall. I'd told Frederick that I had to stretch my legs. I actually just needed a few minutes to process everything he's told me.
"I saw you on that flight from Milan." He taps his fingers against the table. "I saw my son stop in the terminal to look at you."
I wasn't sure if he'd remember me. I highly doubted it based on the fact that I couldn't remember any faces from that day other than Landon's and Gianna's. If Frederick would have stood in front of me I doubt I would have given him a second glance.
His eyes don't hold the same quiet calmness that my father's do. His expression is empty. It's different than what I remember from the photographs in Landon's apartment. The carefree happiness that was present in his face in those pictures isn't there now.
"I don't remember seeing you," I say honestly. "You were on that flight because you knew your son was the pilot?"
"It was the seventh flight this year that I've taken with my son at the controls."
I'm surprised. I'm so surprised that my mouth falls open. "Seventh?"
"I was on four last year, three the year prior."
"He never noticed you?" I ask because I'm shocked based on what Landon told me about searching crowds for his father's face.
"I stayed out of view for the most part." He scratches the wrinkled skin near the corner of his left eye. "I didn't want to risk the consequences of him seeing me."
He wasn't ready to be caught yet.
"What changed?" I bring the plastic cup to my mouth to finish the rest of the water. "Why did you step into full view now?"
He bites the corner of his lip. I can't tell whether it's to quell his emotions or not. "I saw something horrific a few months ago. It was when I was watching my other son."
"Dane? You were watching him?"
"He's a fireman." His shoulders push forward as a smile flashes across his lips. "His Engine Company is number thirty-four."
The words, along with the knowledge they contain, feels misplaced. This is a man who willingly hid from the lives of his children for close to fifteen years. The fact that he casually points out what his son does for a living, including details about which fire station he works out of, makes me uncomfortable.
"He was called out to a building when some utility workers became trapped in the basement. I was there, standing in the crowd when I saw him running across the street."
I lean back in the chair as I listen to him. I've seen Dane recently. He looked fine. Whatever Frederick saw was obviously life altering if it pushed him to reveal himself to Landon.
"What happened?"
"A young woman was hit by a police car."
"What?" My hands leap to my chest. "That artist? Are you talking about when that artist got hit?"
It had been the headline in every local paper the next morning. I hadn't taken the time to read through the article because the picture that accompanied the story said it all. A petite blonde woman was sprawled across the hood of a police car, her hair covered with blood. I remember clearly that a fireman was on the hood of the car with her, his gloved hands holding her head in place.
"That woman is having my first grandchild. That was Bridget. She's going to marry my son."
***
"Will you ask Landon to come see me?"
His demeanor may have changed since he first sat down across the table from me, but his past can't be erased with some confessions about how much he misses his children.
He'd literally been stalking the two of them for years. He can't expect to find forgiveness because he wants to play a role in his grandchild's life. Dane doesn’t strike me as the type of man who will push everything that's happened aside just so his child can know a grandfather who didn't care enough about his own sons to choose them over a woman.
"I'm planning on telling Landon about our meeting," I say quietly. "I don't think he'll want to come and see you."