Page 107 of Don't Believe A Word

After considering that for a moment, while clocking one exclusive gated-community after another as they drove the glossy eight- or ten-lane boulevards, still behind Evie’s Mercedes, Cristy said, ‘Gabe asked me if we were followed here. Do you think we might have been?’

David frowned. ‘I can’t say I noticed anyone, although we haven’t exactly been looking. Anyway, he surely wouldn’t be hard to find in a place like this, so who’d need to track us to get to him?’

‘He’s changed his name,’ she reminded him thoughtfully. ‘So I’m asking myself, is he still running scared of the gangs? I guess he must be, given he’s no longer a person of interest to Interpol, so it can’t be law enforcement he’s hiding from.’

‘If he really is hiding.’

She glanced at him quizzically.

He shrugged. ‘Something’s off – or at least odd – about the set-up here,’ he commented.

Knowing exactly what he meant, Cristy watched Evie turn into a private development with exquisitely tended flower beds and clusters of succulents on the sloping lawns each side of the entrance. They slowed to a stop in front of two towering electronic gates with the community’s name, Floral Grove,in gold lettering on each one, and a uniformed guard ambled out of a whitewashed, red-roofed booth to greet Evie and Gabe.

‘There seems to be a lot of security around here,’ she remarked to David, noting a handsomely groomed German Shepherd eyeing the apparently friendly exchange between his handler and the recent arrivals. ‘What do you say to that?’

‘What I’m thinking is, once this particular episode airs the whole world is going to know where they are, so why have you been invited here?’

‘I’m going to guess that part of the deal of telling us what wewant to know is going to include not revealing their whereabouts. Which will make the intro I did on the plane redundant along with most of what I’ve recorded since. However, this is about Sadie, not location – so what really matters is finding out how she ended up with the Winters sisters back in 2000, and what the heck happened to her mother?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Feeling she could get used to hanging out poolside in Florida, this time at Gabe’s intriguing Floral Grove residence where a small forest of climbing plants and huge, colourful pots filled the deck, Cristy watched Evie pour tea over five large glasses of ice, while Lukas settled himself next to Gabe at a mosaic-topped table. An assortment of delicious chocolate-chip cookies, taken from the club, was laid out centre stage and managing to look almost as irresistible as the gently lapping blue water beside them. Beyond the exclusive garden the sprawling pond that was actually a lake shimmered and rippled in the glorious afternoon sun.

The whole place was, without a doubt, a little piece of heaven set amongst the development’s many other secluded homesteads, some vast, others discreet, all in their own grounds, while this one, occupying the end of a leafy cul-de-sac seemed to have a charm all of its own. The exterior was whitewashed and gleaming behind its shining, exotic foliage, while the interior was airy and light, filled with unusual and beautiful paintings – apparently many done by Gabe – and various treasures collected during their travels around the world.

‘Have you ever been to the South of France?’ Cristy had thought to ask.

‘Oh yes, several times,’ Evie assured her, ‘but not for a few years. I think the last time was when we visited an old friend of Gabe’s in a small town called Vence. Do you know it?’

‘Not really,’ Cristy replied. ‘And do you all live here, in this house?’ she’d asked, as Evie showed them through to the garden.

‘We do,’ Evie had confirmed with a smile. ‘Gabe has his studioand private rooms upstairs, and Lukas and I have a lovely suite in the West Wing.’ She giggled. ‘The place isn’t big enough to have wings,’ she added quietly, ‘but it’s what we like to call it. Mostly though we’re here, in the kitchen and sitting room, or out on the deck – when we’re not going about our busy days, of course. We enjoy one another’s company, which is lucky or this little arrangement would never have worked.’

Arrangement?

‘Are you here all year round?’ David was asking Lukas now, as Cristy admired a vividly coloured sculpture, apparently from Sicily. ‘I’m just thinking of how hot Florida gets in summer,’ he added.

‘Oh boy does it,’ Lukas agreed. ‘No, we close the place up in April and drive to Wisconsin where we generally stay until just before Thanksgiving.’

‘What’s in Wisconsin?’ Cristy wondered as Evie passed around the iced tea.

‘Lake Geneva,’ Evie replied. ‘Gabe’s cousin, Salina, has two cottages on the shore. We always take the smaller one and very often Verity and her family are in the other. We were hoping you’d meet her while you’re here – she and her husband have a place at Port Royal, that’s the really fancy neighbourhood of Naples – but they’re in Brazil right now and we’re not sure when they’re back.’

Unable to imagine – at least for the moment – anything much fancier than where they were, Cristy said, ‘So how did you all come to be here?’

Evie twinkled. ‘It’s all down to Verity,’ she replied, as if sharing a secret. ‘If it weren’t for her heaven knows where any of us would have ended up, especially Gabe. Howeeeever,’ she drew out the word, ‘we thought we’d start at the beginning – or Lukas will, and Gabe will fill things in as we go.’ Lowering her voice she added, ‘You’ve probably already gathered that he’s not much of a talker, but rest assured he takes everything in and he feels things very deeply even if he doesn’t always show it.’

Wondering, not for the first time, if Gabe, apart from being photophobic, might have other issues, Cristy discreetly set up to record. Perhaps he’d suffered some sort of damage from drug abuse over the years? Certainly his reticence was marked, and theway he occasionally veered off subject could be both disconcerting and puzzling.

‘So, are we all ready?’ Evie asked, rubbing her hands excitedly.

‘Bring it on,’ Lukas encouraged, while Gabe managed a half-smile and next to Cristy David stretched out his long legs preparing simply to listen and, later, be a helpful sounding board as they went through it all.

After checking everything was working, Cristy said, ‘Let’s just treat it as a chat, OK? We don’t have to be formal, or even chronological with events – that can always be sorted in an edit. But as you seem to have discussed how you want to tell the story I’m guessing you’re going to start us off at the beginning, Lukas?’

He nodded and beamed. He really did have the most engaging way with him, seeming so full of warmth and good humour. However, his expression sobered as he prepared to share his memories, and his dark eyes appeared to lose focus, conveying a more serious and reflective side of his nature.

LUKAS: ‘You have probably learned by now that Janina and I are originally from Georgia – county, not state – but our father was Lithuanian so we moved to Vilnius when we were still quite young. This became a very fortuitous move in later years, but I will come on to that.

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