Sadly, with his death came the loss of intel. Where was Arabella’s body? Where did the money go? Who controlled all that wealth and power now?
No one knew.
Our unit buried Conroy in secret. There are no official records stating where he is—not even I know. The intel surrounding that mission was destroyed. The list has been lost to time. The only thing that remains is Richard’s rage. The only logical conclusion Richard could come to was that these men, the names Conroy planned toreveal, were in fact guilty of murdering his daughter, and to cover their tracks, they killed Conroy, too.
I possess partial coordinates to the location of Conroy’s body, Nova. Though if I’m dead by the time you read this, then I suppose Iused topossess partial coordinates.
Now you do.
The numbers stamped on the side of Dad’s lucky coin are what Richard is searching for.
I know it all sounds a little crazy to you. But it was imperative to the team, back then and now, that Conroy never be found. So, they had the coordinates split five ways and vowed never to bring them together again.
It was a secret they promised to keep. A secretnotkept, considering a few short years after Arabella’s death, as Richard rose from the ashes of his destroyed kingdom and slowly began rebuilding what he’d lost, the search for his daughter resumed. Word spread: Richard was not looking for just one man, nor was he looking for one list. He knew of the five.
Five soldiers. Five sets of digits.
Dad was one of these five. So when he and Mom died in a car accident we desperately tried to understand, I received a letter much like the one I’m writing to you now, and I inherited the coin I was told to keep safe forever.
Each of these men has died over the years. Some suspiciously, and others not so much. But the secret travels from one set of hands to the next. Sometimes to their sons, like in my case, and sometimes to the sons of other men whose names would have been on that list. For almost thirty years, the coordinates have remained hidden. But in the last eighteen months, four of the five have gone missing, which can only lead me to believe Richard has them.
It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Four out of five, Nova. Which means I’m the last man standing.
I need you to understand that this is not a game, and Richard is not an honorable man. Not when it comes to this matter. Unfortunately for me and you, now that we possess the coin, that makes us his enemies, too. Richard won’t be reasoned with, Nova, and his ability to rebuild after his losses three decades ago is superhuman. His resources are limitless. He’s wealthier today than he was even back then, and more powerful than Conroy could have ever hoped to be.
If you’re reading this letter, then he already got me. And if I’m gone and no longer around to protect you, it means he’s coming for you.
I could have simply disposed of the coin. Not involved you at all. And I would have Nova, I swear, if I thought Richard would believe you when you said you had no clue what he was talking about, then that’s what I would do. I’d toss it into the fucking ocean and never let it see daylight again. But that’s not how this will go, and you need to live.
Having the coin, at least, gives you a fighting chance.
For you, Nova, I write this letter. And to keep you safe, I’ll ensure its delivery immediately after my death. Hours. A day, at most.
If you’re reading this, then I know you’re grieving. You’re scared and sad and probably really, really angry.
But I need you to run. Right now. By the time you get to the end of this page, I need you to take whatever you can carry and go. Don’t worry about the house. Don’t worry about our things. Don’t worry about me.
Just go.
And for the love of Christ, if a man walks into your life in the days after my death, HE IS THERE TO KILL YOU. He will searchfor the coin first, but then he’ll destroy you. Richard will insist on hurting those we love the way the men on the list supposedly hurt Arabella.
That is your future, Nova. Believe what I’m telling you.
My duty, as your big brother, is to protect you one last time. So, there’s a house on the Delaware River, and inside it you’ll find an entirely new life. A new name. A new identity. The house is yours, free and clear, and the life you’ll find is pretty and peaceful and best of all, safe.
For me, NooNoo, for my peace in the afterlife, I beg of you, leave this place.
Run.
I know you’re sad, and dammit, Nova, it was never supposed to turn out like this. We were supposed to grow old together; me flicking your ears and drinking beer with whatever douchebag you decided to make your husband. We could have had a happy life, living near enough for each of us to feel whole, but far enough that we wouldn’t send each other crazy.
Next-door neighbors, maybe. I heard Mr. Carnagy is thinking of selling.
I would have married Vi and made such pretty babies, and you would marry… a douchebag, no doubt. But I would have kept him in line. And together, we would have lived happy lives of weird codependence and your annual attempts to master telepathy.
I’m sad we never got the hang of that.
