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strand of pearls gracing her throat, and her elegant crepe wool winter white slacks covering still shapely legs, made him wonder how she could have done all that she had. Her hair was pulled back in a neat, blond chignon, and yet her exterior beauty would always be marred for him by what he knew her capable of.
    â€œAnd don’t forget, mother dearest,” he said, his voice now brittle, “you also were involved in trying to do the same—murder my father. But the fact that you didn’t is the only reason you and I are even having a conversation today.”
    She turned slowly back to the window and stared out at the Delaware River. “I should have known that your visit wasn’t to merely check on me, but to look into my eyes while asking if I was involved.”
    â€œThen turn around and look me in the eyes and tell me. Were you?”
    She glanced at him over her shoulder and set her jaw hard. “No.”
    Again, they simply stared at each other for a moment.
    â€œYou and I are so much alike, and you are your father’s spitting image. Donald used to handle me like this.” She turned away and continued to gaze out the window. “I suppose once trust is shattered, it’s like fine bone china that can never be repaired. I never expected this from my son.”
    He stood to leave, and picked up his London Fog raincoat, folding it over his arm. “But that I still love you as my mother is something. That is all I have left to give you.”
    She nodded and fought the tears, but never turned as he walked away. “Right now, that I will cling to. Thank you.”
    There was no answer, just the gentle close of the door.

Chapter 5
    L aura stood inside the small airport with her family waiting for her uncle, her mind whirring. The brightly dressed tourists and returning natives of that land provided stark contrasts within the clean, brightly lit two-story building. Everything around her seemed to be moving in slow motion. Instinctively she knew customs agents would be leisurely stamping documents to admit people to the country. Baggage handlers would take their time in the island heat to throw luggage up on the huge conveyor belts. Mini-vans would take their sweet time to herd tourists into hotel shuttles. Red caps and families would greet weary travelers and usher them to a rented or owned car. Where was Akhan?
    When he finally emerged from a new throng of tourists, she hung back to allow Najira and Jamal to rush up to him first. Calmly, she entered the family reunion, so relieved to see the old man that it took her a moment to release James’s arm to go to him, lest she keel over.
    Wearing only a backpack as his luggage to complement his traditional uniform of African print garb, sandals and socks, a crocheted knit cap, and an exhausted expression, he greeted her warmly with a tired embrace.
    â€œThank you, Laura,” he said just above a whisper. “We should go.”
    Making cursory acknowledgement of James and Steve, Akhan set his line of vision forward toward the exit, and kept his gaze sweeping as they walked to the parked vehicles. Only once he was safely tucked inside Laura and James’s car like a diplomat, did he close his eyes, breathe a sigh of relief, and begin to temporarily relax.
    â€œWhat happened?” Laura asked, turning to peer at her elderly uncle over the seat.
    She glanced at James, who kept his eyes forward on the road, but had glimpsed Akhan in the rearview mirror, like a professional limo driver.
    â€œThey’re coming for us,” Akhan stated flatly.
    â€œWho?” Laura waited, and watched her uncle rub the stubble on his jaw.
    â€œI don’t know. There are so many possibilities. The question of ‘why,’ is moot. We have ruffled a lot of feathers over the years, Laura.”
    â€œThen, let’s focus on the most likely candidates—namely those who have an unsettled debt and the resources to see that