Page 17 of Finding Lord Landry

“—in Ecuador, you said? Your friend from theTimes?” I finished, jumping back to the only other thing I could think of.

Nan and my father came in through the door, pulling off their coats and hats.

“Er, not Ecuador, exactly? It’s a little island nation off the coast.” Flustered, Cora stood up to help my father remove his coat.

Meanwhile, my stomach dropped. “Island nation? What island nation?” I asked.

Nan smiled at Cora. “Hello, love. How was the auction last night?”

“Great—” Cora began.

“What nation?” I repeated.

My dad took the seat next to me with a huff. “Can’t see a damned thing.”

Nan patted his shoulder as she passed. “It’s the drops. You had your eyes dilated. Let me fix you some tea.”

“Cora,” I said, louder now. “Which island off Ecuador? Was it San Cordova?”

She spread her hands. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“Everett.” Dad turned toward me with a big smile, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “I didn’t know you were popping round. How are things in New York?”

There was a familiar beat of silence while everyone in the room changed gears and silently acknowledged he was having a moment.

“They’re good. I thought I’d come check in and see how you’re doing,” I said. There was no point in reminding him I’d already been here a week and had spent most of that time in his study with him.

He brightened at this unexpected pleasure. “Can’t complain. My memory’s not what it was, but Nan says it’s stress. I’ve taken a little break from work, but I’ll be right as rain in a bit.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. He’d been lucid enough when he’d gotten his original diagnosis, but as the disease had progressed, it had become impossible and unfeeling to break the Alzheimer’s news to him at every turn. It was much easier to brush it off as stress and change the subject.

He thanked Nan for the cup of tea once it was in front of him. “Oh, Everett, Henry Goodwin was asking after you the other day. Wanted to know if you might like to try on the suit of armor he found in an old trunk.” He let out a laugh that brought a smile to my face, even though Henry Goodwin had been dead for at least five years and the suit of armor joke was twenty years old.

“You tell him I’m too pretty to be encased in rusty old armor, Dad.”

“Too right,” he barked before his face softened. “You have your mother’s looks, thank god.”

Nan took the seat next to Cora and glanced between us. “What’s happening in San Cordova? Isn’t that where your friend is?”

I nodded absently while I searched for news on my phone.

San Cordovan Government Betrays Miners

Copper Toxins Threaten Island Nation

Citizens of San Cordova Protest Government Corruption

I scanned the articles and murmured a few of the details as I came across them. “Looks like there was a breakdown of the filtration system that limits exposure of toxic particles and gasses. I guess this would usually trigger a shutdown of mining activity until they can get it up and running again, but the government granted the mining company an exception and extended the allowable exposure time…” I continued reading. “There are allegations of government corruption and bribes. It mentions a history of similar broken promises. The people are protesting.”

Nan frowned. “Do you think your friend is safe?”

“I talked to him last night,” I said, trying to reassure both of us. “He sounded fine. So far, it seems fairly benign. No violence has been reported.”

“Good.”

I tried calling Kenji, but it went directly to voicemail. I shot him a text.

Are you reading the news? What are they saying about the protests there?

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