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Simon…He’d shared his eldest son’s death with Erik some time ago—a little fuel to ignite his hatred of Merrick, but there was no reason for Callia to know. Erik had proven his loyalty by keeping the secret. His son was a pleasant surprise, and Cyrus was rarely surprised by anything.
Simon had been weak, a burden from the moment he’d been born. His headstrong daughter and albino son with a frail immune system had been blessed curses from the beginning.
Weak, ungrateful children were a father’s worst nightmare. But Erik was loyal to the bone, and when the time came Erik would follow his father into hell without even blinking an eye. If only he had another just like him. Several. Still, one loyal son was better than none.
He reached over and squeezed Erik’s shoulder. “I’d like to see for myself how well you’re honing your survival skills. We leave for the island day after tomorrow.”
Erik’s eyes lit up. “What will we tell Mother?”
“That we’re going fishing.”
They shared a grin.
The sun was up when Merrick returned to the Aldora. He went below deck, and to his surprise he found Melita waiting for him. She looked up on hearing him come down the companionway. Johanna’s picture was in her hand, and the question she asked a second later was as confusing as the look on her face.
“Sully never mentioned that you knew Callia. How do you know my stepmother?”
Merrick frowned. “Stepmother?”
“You knew my father remarried after he killed my real mother. I don’t see Callia often, but I do think of her as my stepmother. She’s very—”
“You’re mistaken. That’s a picture of Johanna.”
“Your wife, Johanna?”
“That’s the only Johanna I know. Yes, my wife.”
“Sully told me that she died.”
“Cyrus killed her,” Merrick clarified. “She was twenty-six in that picture. It was taken a month before her death. Are you telling me there’s a strong resemblance between Callia and my wife?”
Melita looked at the picture again. “No. This is my stepmother.”
Merrick tried to make sense out of what she was saying. “You know your father had extensive plastic surgery on his face. If there’s a close resemblance, then Callia must have had reconstructive surgery.”
It was too bizarre to believe, but then he knew what Cyrus was capable of. After all, he’d had plastic surgery to clone Paavo Creon, their comrade. He’d gone so far as to have one of his fingers amputated to match Paavo’s hand. Nothing was beyond Cyrus’s twisted mind. It was an extreme concept, but Cyrus was an extremist in every facet of his life.
“I never considered that.” Melita laid the photo on the table. “I can’t imagine why anyone would agree to that, but knowing my father, she probably didn’t have a choice. The likeness is uncanny. Sorry, if I—” She stopped in midsentence, then spun the picture toward Merrick and pointed to Johanna’s raised hand, holding her hair back from her face. “See this scar. Callia has one just like it. She told me how she got it. She was rescuing her cat.”
Melita’s claim hit Merrick in the solar plexus like a sledgehammer.
“His name was something like Jasper or…”
“Jinx?”
“That’s it.”
Merrick sat down at the table before his knees buckled. “Tell me the story, Melita.”
She relayed the tale while Merrick’s memory followed along. Johanna had needed eighteen stitches to close the wound. He’d wanted to kill that damn cat, but the silver Siamese wasn’t just Johanna’s pet. She had loved Jinx like a mother loves a child.
A glass of water materialized in front of him. The sound of his name and a hand on his arm jerked Merrick back.
“Should I get Sully?”
“No. Sit down.”
She sat across from him, and they stared at each other for several seconds. Finally, she said, “Callia and Johanna are the same person, aren’t they?”
“I saw her die.”
“You were there?”
“No. I watched it on my computer in my office at Onyxx headquarters.”
“Could it have been someone else?”
“No. It was Johanna.” It wasn’t possible that she could have survived the explosion, but as that thought came to him, so did another. “Cyrus is an explosives expert. The warehouse was leveled.” He thought a minute. “Time delay. He rigged the explosion on a timer. She wasn’t in the warehouse when it blew.”
“Did you find a body?”
“No. The explosion was double-charged. After searching through the rubble, we found nothing.”
“Then why did you think she was inside?”
“She was in that warehouse. I saw her strapped to a bed with C4. The warehouse was one of ours. I’d been there many times. I found her car abandoned at the shopping mall where she told me she was going that day. She was gone.” Merrick pointed to the picture. “That photo is almost twenty years old. You said Callia looks like this now?”
“Pretty close. A little older, but not much.”
“Johanna would be forty-six now. How’s that possible?”
“I don’t know.”
Merrick knew that Cyrus had remarried, but they had never been able to uncover any data on the woman. It was obvious now why that was. He said, “You’ve spent time with her. How is she?”
“Not much time. Every other year I was allowed a visit with Simon.”
“And how did she seem?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking?”
“You know Cyrus, Melita. If he has my wife, then she’s living with him against her will.”
“I don’t think so. He treats her like a queen. Like he…”
“Like he what?”
“Loves her.”
Merrick snorted. “You of all people know he’s incapable of that.”
“I know, but he’s different with her and Erik.”
“Erik. Their son.”
“Yes. My half brother.”
Merrick also knew that Cyrus had another child. A boy. He could not wrap his mind around the idea that Johanna had given Cyrus a son. Not willingly, anyway. Not his Johanna.
“How does she treat him? Is she afraid of him.”
“No. She seems…happy.”
“Happy?” The words tasted like poison in his mouth.
“She told me once that my father gave her a reason to live again. That he was the center of her and Erik’s world.”
“And you never told her that your life as his daughter was a living hell?”
“No, and she never knew anything about my situation at Despotiko, either. Or any of the other horrible things. I knew the rules, and I played the game. We both know what happens when my father is crossed.”
Melita had seen far more tragedy than anyone should at age twenty-four. Her brother Simon was dead because of Cyrus, and she had witnessed the man she once loved beaten to death on her father’s orders. The guilt over Nemo’s death had caused Melita to slit her wrists. Luckily, she hadn’t died.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
He wanted to say, Get my wife back, but that was ego and wounded pride talking. It sounded as if Johanna was exactly where she wanted to be. Which meant she’d been in on Cyrus’s scheme to stage her death. There was no other explanation that made any sense.
“What else can you tell me about my wi—her? When did you see her last?”
“In Naxos about three months ago. She wasn’t feeling well the day I arrived. She’d had another asthma attack and—”
“Asthma? She’s ill?”
“She has acute asthma.”
“Can you take me to the house in Naxos?”
“Yes. But they’re not there anymore. The week I visited, Zeta was packing up the house.”
“Who’s Zeta?”
“The housekeeper. That’s her title, but she’s a nurse by trade. She looks after Callia when my father is away. Zeta and her daughter, Sonya, have lived with them for as long as I can remember. Although I didn’t see Sonya when I visited last.”
“What’s Zeta’s last name?”
“Poulos.”
There was a noise overhead, then Sully came down the companionway. He glanced at Melita, then Merrick. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong,” Merrick said, “is that I’ve been a blind fool. Johanna’s alive.” He pointed to the picture on the table, then stood. “Melita tells me that’s Callia. That my wife is Mrs. Cyrus Krizova. I’ll let her explain. I need some air.”
Merrick didn’t know how long he stood staring out to sea on the Aldora’s deck. Time…He’d spent years living in a time warp. That place where Johanna had kept him sane. He didn’t feel sane right now.
He pulled his phone from his pocket to call Sly McEwen.
“Are you in Amorgos with Sully?” Sly asked.
“I’m here. Listen, I just…” Merrick still couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “I just…”
“Merrick?”
“I’ve learned something.”
“Have you located Cyrus?”
“No. But…Johanna is alive, Sly.”
There was dead air on the line, then Sly said, “Are you sure? Do you have proof? You know how Krizova likes to torment you. Maybe—”
“It didn’t come from Cyrus. It came from Melita. I’m checking in, like I told you I would once I got here. I’ll tell Sully to give you a call later.”
“If Johanna’s alive, I should rally the men and—”
“If I need you, I know where to find you.”
“You all right?”
“I can’t talk right now, Sly. Sully will call.”
Merrick slipped the phone in his pocket. Johanna was alive. Alive all this time, living in Greece as Cyrus’s wife. Happily, Melita had said, with her husband and son. Cyrus’s son.
Merrick closed his eyes as that fateful day surfaced in his mind. They had made love that morning in the shower, and then he’d gone to work. She’d told him she was going shopping, and hours later in his office at headquarters, he’d gotten the e-mail. I have a picture you’ll want to see.
It was an odd e-mail, but he’d been curious. When he retrieved the picture, he saw Johanna on a bed of steel with a charge of C4 strapped around her body. He’d had no idea that the minute the picture materialized on the screen by his own hand he had automatically started the timed explosives.
For three minutes he had stared at Johanna’s terrified face before the screen went black. Then came the report that an explosion had leveled one of their warehouses in Crystal City, ten miles south of Onyxx headquarters.
“Merrick?”
He felt Sully’s hand on his shoulder. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. I don’t know what to say.”
“Cyrus faked her death.”
“It looks that way.”
“Twenty years of believing she was dead, and now…” Merrick cleared his throat. “I called Sly. I told him you’d call him later and fill him in.”
“Whatever you want. Ask it and it’s yours. The men can be here in—”
