A Dark and Twisting Path Page 19
Belinda nodded. “Yup. Or I take them home with me. She can’t get her mitts on them, and I would frankly be horrified if she tried.”
Sam seemed to be lost in thought, so I said, “Where do we start?”
She nodded, pleased. Belinda was the type who liked to get straight to work. “Okay. Well, let’s start with our friend Nikon. You want to close the door, Lena?”
“I do.” I got up and shut the office door; I glimpsed the two women, still in conversation near the entrance. Then I returned.
Belinda was enthused about her research, as always. “I got some more Lazos family information. This time it was from a gossip website, of all things, that is published in New York. It came out just after Victoria was found—the date is January second.”
She pushed the printed article toward us. “What’s weird is that I have tried to locate any other mention of this, and I cannot find a word. Even this article seems to have been wiped off the Internet, but I found it as a screenshot that someone took. Now it’s as though it never existed. But here’s the evidence.”
We looked down at the article, which was a brief blurb with a small picture of two dark-haired people who were both obviously Lazos family members. It read Georgios Lazos, brother of Nikon Lazos, and Demeter Lazos, his oldest sister, spoke with one of our reporters this week about their notorious brother, currently at large and wanted by authorities. “Nikon has shamed the family,” Lazos said, “and the way he has treated both of his wives is shameful—his first wife, Grace, ran away from him because of his cruel nature, and now we find out there was a new woman, this Victoria, who we never met because Nikon kept her locked up like a possession. That is not a man. That is not the brother I knew, or a brother I will acknowledge.” His sister added that Lazos had always been very demanding of his younger siblings, yet had been terribly neglectful of them at the same time, disappearing sometimes for a year or more with no family contact—and often in total control of the family’s fortune.
That was all. Sam and I both read it, then looked at each other. “So within five years, at least three of his family members have essentially disowned him—these two, and Demetrius five years earlier. I guess these were two of the siblings that sided with Demetrius in the big rift we read about. Those comments had to hurt—Victoria said Nikon was all about family.”
Sam shrugged. “But he was advocating starting a new family with her. Maybe he had ceased to acknowledge his former family. Maybe he disowned them before they disowned him. He’s just weird enough to do it.”
I thought about this. “I wonder which two were present when they got on the yacht. Victoria said that two of them were there.”
Sam shrugged. “We’ll have to ask her.”
Belinda tapped her desk with a pencil and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “It’s weird, though—not just that these family members emerged in the press, but then that they receded again. Does Nikon sue people? Pay them off? Insist upon gag orders?”
“And why?” Sam said. “Who cares? He doesn’t seem the type to worry about a little gossip.”
“Doesn’t he?” I said. “He’s this big glamorous tycoon, but he’s also weirdly obsessive about details. These would be the little facts that would stick in his craw. And who knows if he’s gone back to see those brothers? Maybe to resolve things, maybe to silence them? I don’t understand the Lazos family dynamic.”
Belinda nodded. “I’ve been trying to find anything on either George or Demetrius. They’re both still alive, in case you were fearing some sort of primal retribution. But other than that I don’t know much. George is married and has two grown sons. Demetrius is married, too, but I haven’t determined whether or not he has offspring. I’m working on it.”
Sam tipped his chair back and then lowered it again. Belinda seemed relieved when it was back in place. He said, “So this might be important, and it might not. What does it really matter if Nikon is estranged from his family? He’s a criminal. He’s estranged from the whole world.”
“But your family wouldn’t have abandoned you,” I said. “If they had been here. They would have stayed loyal.”
Sam nodded. “They would have. And I’m fairly sure my mother would have told off the press on a regular basis.”
I smiled at this image of Sam’s mother. Belinda nodded. “I found something about your parents, too, Sam. This one is really sweet.”
She opened her other file and held up a printed copy of an old newspaper article. “It’s from a newspaper in Saratoga Springs, where I guess you guys lived for a while.”
Sam nodded, smiling. “Yeah. When I was a kid. We had a great house there.”
“This was published about five years after the story about your parents’ engagement. They were married, and you were about three years old.” Sam picked up the article and I saw the accompanying picture of his mother, looking almost like a teenager, and little Sam, tucked against her skirt while she posed, smiling shyly, standing in front of a rosebush.
“That’s our house,” Sam said. “I remember the bush, and that brick wall behind it was our front porch.”
“This reporter was doing a follow-up on the earlier human interest story. Apparently it had been one of their most popular stories ever, and so five years later they decided to resurrect it, probably to boost sales. Which I’m guessing it did. It’s a great story. Your mom talks about your dad, what a great husband and father he is. But look at the part I highlighted.”
Sam held the story between us so that we could both read the part Belinda had marked in yellow:
Mrs. West said that motherhood had been a pleasant surprise, and that she could not now imagine life without her son, Sam, three. “Sam is my little companion. When I’m gardening, he holds my watering pail. When I do the dishes, he holds his little towel and dries the unbreakable ones. When we go grocery shopping, he brings his little cart. He’s the sweetest boy with the biggest heart. I don’t know what I did to deserve him.”
West adds that she has a special song that she sings to her son at bedtime: Olivia Newton-John’s “Sam.”
“It’s our very own mother-son song,” she said. “I feel so lucky to have this special guy in my life. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance.”
Sam stood up suddenly and looked out the glass office window, his back to us. “Give me a minute,” he said. Belinda and I sat for moment in silence, not making eye contact.
“Are you okay?” Belinda finally asked. She looked crestfallen. “I thought this would make you happy. I didn’t mean to—”
Sam turned and sat back down, wiping at his eyes. “I’m sorry. That came out of nowhere. I had forgotten that song, totally forgotten. But of course. She did sing it to me, for years . . . she had the sweetest voice.”
I sprang from my chair and moved to his, hugging him from behind. “I’m glad you got back this memory of her. What a beautiful thing! And it reminds us how much, as you said, your mother loved children. Do you think by ‘second chance,’ she is referencing her other child?”
Belinda looked thoughtful. “I did wonder about that. And the reporter must have known; I mean, the first story showed her as a pregnant woman. It’s not like readers would forget that he rescued her in front of that doctor’s office. But it’s not referenced here. Almost as though they were told not to ask about it.”
Sam was rereading the article, smiling this time. “Saratoga Springs. I wonder if we went there, did some digging, if that would provide us with any information.”
“It might. We could certainly contact this newspaper office, see if anyone remembers the story. There have to be some people around who were there at the time. I wonder if they’ve made the connection to you now—to the Sam West who was wanted for murder. Their hometown boy,” Belinda said thoughtfully.
“I’d almost hate to find out,” Sam said.
“Meanwhile, I found one other t
hing. It’s a story about your dad getting another decoration. This was in 1988, same newspaper. He was on the scene when a motorcyclist fell off his bike. He gave the guy CPR, did everything in a textbook perfect way, and the cyclist survived because of him. There was a ceremony.” Belinda held up a picture of the whole West family: Sam’s father in uniform, his mother in a lovely blue dress, little Sam, around six years old, wearing a suit and looking solemn, and tiny Wendy, in her mother’s arms with her face half buried in her hair.
Sam shook his head. “I knew my dad was respected. And I guess I knew he had gotten some commendations. But I never knew this. Why? My mom must have had a scrapbook somewhere. Or did I know it and forget it? I don’t know anymore. My memories of them come and go, and sometimes I wonder if I’ve suppressed some things.”
Belinda nodded, her face compassionate. “You’ve had so much stress, Sam. It can affect memory, did you know?”
“I think I knew, but I forgot,” Sam joked.
I pointed at the files. “Thanks, Belinda. You do good work. You shouldn’t be buried in Blue Lake. They could use you at the New York Times. Or in the government.”
She shrugged. “There’s really nothing here that could help Doug. And Sam’s stuff is just for Sam.”
Suddenly a shadow fell over the room, and I turned to find Darla’s face in the window; I jumped, and Belinda beckoned her in while closing both of her files in a smooth movement. Sam, who had been holding the article, folded it in half and held it loosely in his hand. “What can I do for you, Darla?”
Darla was so curious I could almost picture her with twitching whiskers. “The board members are here. I said that you’d meet with them in the Stewart Memorial Room.”
“Great. Thanks!”
We waited for Darla to leave, but she lingered long enough to say, “So where did you guys choose?”
“I’m sorry?” Belinda said.
“For your vacation getaway. What’s the final destination?”
Belinda shrugged. “The jury’s still out.”
Sam turned and looked Darla in the eye. “I was thinking somewhere in the Caribbean, but Lena likes Rome.”
“I want to throw my coins in the fountain,” I said, with a helpful smile.
Darla nodded. “We have some books about Rome out here, if you’re interested.”
“I’d love to check those out. Thanks, Darla!”
She finally left. “She’s suspicious,” Sam said. “There’s something I thought of earlier, when we were talking—”
“What was it?”
“I can’t remember. God, maybe I do have a memory problem.”
I patted his hand, and we started to gather our things.
Belinda held up a hand. “There’s one more thing. Did you know Jake Elliott’s article came out today?”
“No!” I said.
“I wasn’t sure, but I knew it was coming soon,” Sam said.
“Well, I pulled it from the AP. It’s a bombshell. Here you go.” She turned her chair to retrieve an article that was pinned to her bulletin board. “This one’s not in a file; it’s right up where I can appreciate it all day long. But you can have that copy and I’ll make another.”
Sam let me read it first.
NIKON LAZOS EMERGES IN ACTS OF REVENGE
Jake Elliott, Associated Press
Sam West went to Blue Lake, Indiana, more than a year ago to escape the scrutiny he was under in New York City after the disappearance of his wife, Victoria. Instead, Blue Lake became a place of suspicion and persecution, and West realized there was nowhere he could go that his story would not follow him.
After more than a year, West’s fortunes changed. It was determined his wife was alive and that she had been kept from the rest of the world by a possessive lover and extremely rich tycoon named Nikon Leandros Lazos. At the time that authorities found Ms. West and her baby daughter, Lazos managed to elude them and disappear.
That might have been the last the world heard of Lazos if it had not been for two things: his daughter and his particularly vengeful personality. First, authorities allege that Lazos had his daughter abducted in broad daylight, hiring a henchman who literally took the child from her mother’s arms. Doug Heller of the Blue Lake Police Department is sure that Lazos was behind the abduction. “Lazos had made it clear to his wife that he would never want their family separated. There is no one with a stronger motive than Lazos for kidnapping the baby, and he is number one on our personal most-wanted list and some international most-wanted lists as well.”
But Lazos’s alleged crimes don’t stop there. Blue Lake police also think that Lazos wants revenge not just against his wife, but against her much-maligned ex-husband, Sam West. Heller suggests that Lazos has made certain attempts at revenge against West, although the motive is unclear. Lazos’s own brother Demetrius Lazos, now living in Chicago, says this does not surprise him. “Nikon is very competitive—always has been. The moment he chose Victoria West as a love interest he would have seen any other man in her life as the enemy. He has done this since he was a teenager. Despite all Mr. West has been through—yes, I believe my brother would find a way to blame him for the loss of Victoria. Nikon has never been good at taking responsibility.”
Authorities could not discuss the initial revenge attempt against West, which involves a recent crime in Blue Lake, but Heller believes that the other attempts have also been aimed at those West holds dear. Since the discovery that his wife was indeed alive, West has carried on a high-profile romance with Blue Lake resident Lena London, and in the last few days Ms. London has been stalked around town, culminating in an attempt to abduct her. While West and London declined to comment, New York criminal psychologist Sarah Ehrlichman said that it is not uncommon for the guilty to deflect responsibility and to blame their actions on unlikely or undeserving people. “If this man was living his own illusion with his lover, he will see her rescue as a destruction of his world rather than seeing the abduction of the child as a destruction of hers. His actions are narcissistic, and if he is a destructive narcissist, his anger could be significant and intense.”
Heller believes that Lazos has at least one contact in Blue Lake or somewhere in the Midwest—someone who keeps a close watch on those Lazos wants to punish. A possible connection to Lazos has already been identified, and an APB has been issued for the suspect’s arrest.
In the meantime, Heller wants it made known to those in Blue Lake and beyond: “Lazos was the bad guy when the whole world was pointing fingers at Sam West; and now, even though he’s invisible, he continues to be a dangerous man.” He encourages anyone who has seen something unusual, or who might have any information about Nikon Lazos, to call the Blue Lake Police Department or the FBI.
For his part, Sam West is philosophical. Thanks to a chance discovery, he was freed from jail last October, and he does not intend to be dragged back because of a vendetta. He’s grown to like Blue Lake, and he intends to stay there.
* * *
* * *
WHEN SAM AND I said our good-byes and walked to the parking lot (still watched by Darla), I said, “Sam, that article—did you notice it? That quote from the psychologist?”
“What?” he asked.
“He said Nikon would view it as a destruction of his world. That’s what my note said. About a dream being destroyed.”
“Let’s hope this riles him up. That he pokes his nose out of whatever hole he’s dug for himself.”
“And let’s hope this was the right thing to do,” I said. “There’s a chance he could become even more dangerous once he comes out of hiding.”
16
The snake is more dangerous when it is threatened.
—From Death at Delphi
THAT NIGHT SAM and I took a walk with my father and Tabitha; they were planning to leave early in the morning. My father and I walked ahead while Sam and Ta
bitha, in an effort to be thoughtful, stayed a few yards behind.
“It’s been so great to have you here, Dad,” I said. “I waited too long.”
He slipped an arm around me. “Which is why we won’t wait this long again. Tab and I were talking—we’ve got a lovely condo near the beach, and after all this, I’m sure Sam especially will want to get away and decompress. You should both come down to Florida.”
This sounded wonderful, and I told him so. “Maybe later in the summer, or in September! I don’t think I’ll have to twist Sam’s arm too hard.”
“He’s a good man,” my father said. “We like him.”
“I’m glad.”
“We like your friends, too. All the people who came to your party—they were terrific. Even though we’re worried about recent events in this town, we’re happy to know you’re surrounded by caring people.”
I nodded. We had walked up toward Camilla’s place, and now we moved toward the edge of the bluff to look at the lake. “You don’t have to worry, Dad. Doug and Cliff are watching us, and Sam’s not going to let me out of his sight.”
My father thought about this. “I want you to keep in touch with me. Otherwise Tabby and I will worry anyway.”
Tabitha and Sam caught up with us and I smiled at my father’s wife. “Tabitha, before we got kicked out of Graham House I hung the framed book cover in my room. It looks amazing.”
Her face grew rosy with pleasure. “I was just trying to convince Sam to come and visit us in Florida,” Tabitha said. “When you do, I’ll show you my little workshop where I do my art and frame prints.”
“I would love that. I so admire your creativity,” I said, and I was immediately glad that I did, not only because of Tabitha’s pleased laugh, but because of the gratified expression on my father’s face.
While we stood talking and looking at the lake, Doug Heller appeared and walked over from Camilla’s yard. He joined our group and chatted for a while, and then I pulled him aside.