Flash Burned (Burned 2)

“But you did send the claim in … on my behalf? Or wouldn’t I need to sign something? For that matter, I haven’t even seen a death certificate. Wouldn’t the insurance carrier require that?”

His hands stilled. This time he speared me with a solid gaze. A knowing look flickered in his eyes.

Jackson Conaway couldn’t lie to me.

I smiled, my heart soaring. More tears built. “I know Dane’s alive. I figured it out. I should have figured it out sooner. That’s what he expected, I’m sure. What he hoped for from the beginning.” Though he wouldn’t have known I was pregnant and struggling with all that entailed.

Mr. Conaway sat back in his chair, neither confirming nor denying.

His longtime loyalty to Dane warred with his new loyalty to me. Dane would win out, I had no doubt. So I made it easy for our attorney.

“Tell Dane his wife needs to see him. It’s urgent.”

We left the office and drove back to the retreat. Mostly in silence until we turned onto the rugged road that led to the rustic area.

Kyle asked, “What if you’re wrong? What if you’re way wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“Ari.”

I sighed. “Come on, Kyle. It’s Dane. In what universe would he be defeated?”

Sliding a glance toward me, he said, “If you really believed that, you never would have accepted he was dead in the first place.”

“It was a terrifying time, Kyle. The most beautiful building I’d ever seen had just been blown to bits. People were screaming, injured. I was bleeding all over the place. Dane was missing. All of our hard work was destroyed and employees could have been killed. I’d lost my wedding bracelet. I was in complete despair—and thoroughly wrecked without Dane.”

I still had a ton of questions about his disappearance but no one to ask. My theory, of course, hinged on Mr. Conaway getting my message to Dane and him following through on my request to see him.

The waiting game would not be an easy one. But my certainty that he’d survived the Lux explosion brought me a huge amount of peace.

For now.

chapter 12

The Arizona Republic not only picked up the obituary Mikaela submitted but also ran a nice piece on the memorial service scheduled for the following week.

Guilt tripped through me.

Oh, boy.

This was a different conundrum to face. An ethical one I’d not factored into my euphoria over coming to the realization that Dane was alive.

A part of me wanted to tell Mikaela of my suspicion and have her call off the event. But that could be detrimental to Dane’s efforts, when we needed to perpetuate the myth of his death.

Still, it was difficult to let Mikaela go through with a service when I knew it was a farce. Emotionally, she’d suffer. Financially, too, though I could easily compensate her. I couldn’t, however, make it up to her that I let her believe Dane had never made it out of the Lux.

Yes, it was odd that I was so obsessed over this woman’s feelings—after all, I’d feared what her true intentions were when it had come to my husband. But I wasn’t like my mother, whose sole focus was herself. I wasn’t cold and callous. Which almost made me reach for the phone.

But no. I couldn’t tip off Mikaela, even if she was Dane’s lifelong friend. She had to help me carry on the lie, albeit unbeknownst to her.

And I had to accept that this was all for the greater good. What Dane did was dangerous yet meaningful. I couldn’t let my conscience undermine his efforts.

However, I did worry a little about my mother picking up a paper and having a renewed sense of let’s sue the Lux conglomerate. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already tried to take up a class action suit and Mr. Conaway hadn’t wanted to concern me with it.

She couldn’t reach me by phone, nor did she know where I currently resided. But out of sight, out of mind was never a clever tactic to take when it came to Kathryn DeMille, so I stewed over how to stay on top of that potential dilemma.

A few days later, Mr. Conaway came to the retreat. Handing over a padded envelope, he simply said, “This arrived for you earlier.”