The Memory Painter

Bryan had stared at the statue of his old friend and been filled with a profound feeling of kinship. Leif had done it: he had reached the new land with the Gata. When Bryan had looked down at the turquoise ring on his finger, he had known he would not find the answers he sought without taking a leap of faith. Without questioning the impulse, he had gone home and booked a flight to the one place that Bjarni had wanted to go but never did.

Now here he was on a plane. Bryan reclined his chair and stared at the seat in front of him. Was he wrong to leave Linz alone with Conrad? After all, Michael had questioned Conrad’s motives and his honesty, and the situation was even more entangled now that he knew Linz was Conrad’s daughter. Bryan would have rested easier if Linz were with him. He had even debated trying to talk her into going, but he knew the idea would have sounded insane to her. Things had been easier before, when he was the only one wondering if he was crazy.

He stared at the airphone and tried to ease his anxiety—he should at least leave a message. Picking up the handset, he swiped his credit card again. Dialing the number from memory, he counted the rings, already assuming she wouldn’t pick up. “Linz, it’s Bryan. Just wanted you to know I’m on my way to Newfoundland … Canada … to paint.… I know it’s last minute. Sorry for what happened. Maybe the time apart will be a good breather … for you, like you said. Let’s talk when I’m back … take care.”

He hung up, frustrated. His message hadn’t conveyed any of the things he’d wanted to say.

The plane started to descend an hour later. Bryan’s pulse quickened as he looked out the window. Bjarni’s new land lay beneath him.

*

Linz sat waiting at the Bay Tower Room’s best table. She had been there for twenty minutes, sipping a glass of their finest chardonnay. But the wine, along with the incredible view of Boston’s skyline, was wasted on her. She listened to Bryan’s voice mail for the third time, kicking herself for missing his call. She couldn’t believe that he’d just flown off to Canada. It brought home all of the things she didn’t know about him—what if he was seeing someone else on the side? Maybe they were on the plane together or she was waiting for him at the airport. What were Newfoundland girls even like, nature enthusiasts? Linz shook her head at herself, knowing she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t control the jealousy that was welling up inside. She deserved more than a call from an airphone after what they had been through. Why on earth had Bryan dropped everything to go there?

“Sorry I’m late.” Her father startled her, planting a kiss on her head before he sat down. “I’m famished.” He signaled their customary waiter, who instantly appeared at their table.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Jacobs.”

“Thank you, Richard. We’ll have the lobster bisque, Caesar salad, and the prime rib. Medium-well for the lady. My usual wine.”

“Very good, sir.” Richard took the menu away and turned to Linz. Conrad gave Linz an expectant smile. She was about to change their order.

Linz didn’t even glance at the menu. “Let’s make that the sea bass, steam the vegetables, and I suppose we’ll let him have the wine.”

Their little ritual finished, Richard took her menu and left them alone.

Linz got right to the point. “Why didn’t you tell me you worked for Michael Backer?”

Conrad lips thinned to an angry line. He took his time unfolding his napkin, and put it in his lap before he spoke. “Where did you get that information?”

“I spoke with Dr. Parker, who’s been trying to convince you to let him look at the Renovo project, and you won’t let him. What’s going on?”

Conrad leaned forward and lowered his voice. “As far as the NIA’s concerned, that project was terminated after the director blew up his lab—killing himself and his wife. I refuse to let my company be associated with an experiment conducted thirty years ago that was just plain bad science. And as my daughter and the next in line to run the company, you should be more discreet about what you discuss with fellow directors.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Which you seem to be doing a lot of lately.”

Linz couldn’t meet his eyes. She had just been scolded like a three-year-old and her father wasn’t finished.

“I find it disturbing that all this started when you met your new boyfriend, who seems to be doing nothing short of investigating me—”

“He’s not my boyfriend and he’s not investigating you—”

“—because the company’s worth a fortune,” he continued, “and so are you.”

“You think he’s going to try to blackmail you? That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? Anyone on the Internet can find out who we are and what we’re worth.”