Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One), Nathan Hystad [primary phonics books .TXT] 📗

to drop it two minutes later and stare at a screen, is beyond me. Once every couple of years.” The wine was delicious, and we ordered appetizers, duck foie gras, and a single quail pie, with crust so flaky, it melted in my mouth.

Veronica seemed distracted, fidgeting after the taster plates were cleared. “Something on your mind?” I asked.

She took a big drink from her wine glass and poured herself another round. “Rex, if I tell you a secret, will you promise to not to spread it around?”

When someone asks you that, there’s only one option. “Of course. Mum’s the word.”

“I didn’t happen to stumble upon you guys in Sydney,” she admitted, a slight flush finding her cheeks. She took another sip and sat back, swirling her wine while avoiding eye contact with me.

I shifted in my seat, unable to stop the next question. “Are you with the Believers?” I said it quietly and stared at her, searching for a tell. It would make sense, with them so close to our trail.

She gasped, finally meeting my gaze. “Rex,” she hissed, “how can you ask that? No. Truthfully, I’ve heard of them before, but only because of my similar interests.”

“In cults?” I asked while the server brought our mains. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry, and I shoved it aside while the pollack dripping in sauce slid in front of me.

“The unknown. Aliens. Stuff Hunter Madison is preoccupied with.”

I sighed, finally understanding. “You wanted to meet him. Then you heard him mention a pilot and took your shot. Very admirable.”

“What else was I supposed to do? Ask to see his collection? Invite myself to his mansion?” She chuckled and poked a fork at her risotto, piercing a chanterelle mushroom. “I was the geekiest kid. X-Files posters on the walls, shelves lined with books about the solar system. I wanted so badly to believe there was more than what we saw each day. I was desperate for answers. When we moved to the city, I was so angry that my mother could take me away from my home.”

I ate a bite of my dinner. “What made you upset?”

“A telescope.” She stopped, chewing small bites of her food. She held an empty fork, and her eyes filled with tears. “Can you think of a more pathetic reason to be sad? A little girl crying because her telescope wouldn’t work among the bright uptown lights of Manhattan. It wasn’t that I had to leave all my friends behind or that I missed my bedroom. I pouted for months.” A tear rolled free, but she didn’t wipe at it.

I glanced at my watch, feeling a bond growing between us. “It was a gift?”

Her smile was so sudden, it almost didn’t seem real. “How did you guess that?”

“Why else would you be so sad? How old were you?”

“Four when he gave it to me. It’s the first birthday I can remember, but that might be because I’ve looked at the old photos my mom took a thousand times over.” She fiddled with her designer clutch and pulled out a simple wallet hiding in the fancy red leather bag. She unfolded a picture, her thumb across the man’s face. But there was Veronica, so young, her hair bright blonde. She was standing beside a telescope, and not a cheap department store version. This was the real deal. “It was the last birthday before he left.”

I took a drink of my wine, trying to hide the creeping emotions of my own loss at her words.

“I still have it.”

“The telescope?”

“Yes. It was one of the reasons I stayed in Maui for so long.”

“It had nothing to do with white beaches or the lush tropical topiary?” I asked.

“Okay, that may have played a role. Rex, you’re easy to talk to. I didn’t know what to expect.”

“You never did explain how you recognized me,” I fished.

“Rexford Walker, son of renowned treasure hunter Dirk Walker. Anyone who’s followed our illustrious billionaire’s obsession knows of your dad, and subsequently, about you,” she said.

The idea that anyone had interest in me was surprising. “I doubt that. It’s not like my dad and Hunter’s dealings were publicized.”

“They’re accessible if you know where to search.” She drained her glass. “What do you say we go for a walk? Clear our heads.”

I’d had enough French cuisine for a night and abandoned half of the fish on the plate. Veronica dropped a few bills on the table, and I smiled at the generous tip Hunter was leaving the staff.

With our jackets pulled tight, we grabbed our umbrellas, finding that the clouds remained, but the rain had ended. We chatted about inconsequential things as we walked down the cobblestone sidewalks, pausing to peer into storefronts, and ordered espressos.

It was late when we stopped, and I hailed a taxi to shuttle us to the hotel. I saw Marcus in the lobby, his chin drooped to his chest while he sat in an oversized chair. His computer was open, and I closed it, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Rex,” he said. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. Where are the others?” I scanned the lobby, peering at the bar.

“Upstairs. Tripp didn’t think Hunter should show his face. Too many pictures being taken around us.” Marcus wiped his chin and stared at Veronica. “Were you guys…”

“We were both out and happened to bump into…” Veronica started to say, but stopped as Marcus rolled his eyes.

“Sure. How about we cut the—” My phone vibrated, and I heard the other various notifications beep on Marcus’ and Veronica’s too. We each checked our devices, reading what I assumed was the same message.

Tripp – Get to Hunter’s room. Number 913. Now.

“He’s giving us orders?” Veronica huffed.

“Must be important.” I had visions of Hunter sprawled out on his bed, dead from his illness. “Has Hunter told any of you what he’s suffering from?” We moved toward the elevators.

“Nope. I’ve tried to bring it up like you asked, but he isn’t willing to share,” Marcus told me.

“Cancer. Lymphoma, but they caught it