Patsy Murray: Cryptid Trilogy Sequel, #3

By Douglas Roff

About the Book

 

Adam St. James is back again in another exciting sequel of the Cryptid Trilogy Series!

Adam returns to a new alternate universe with new characters and a new dilemma as his family, friends and associates puzzle through the odd series of events, murders, and assassinations that have gripped Adam's life. His family has seemingly gone insane, abandoned him without explanation and forced him to leave home and relocate to New York City.

 

His long-time love, Misti Alarcon, has broken off their relationship abruptly and disappeared; Adam is sure his family knows why, but after the murder of Misti's father, retired Seattle police Sergeant Carlos "Carlito" Alarcon, she goes deep underground.

 

Adam, unable to deal with family and personal betrayal, goes into a deep funk that takes years to overcome. When he does, he meets Lola Romano and her family; he proposes to Lola only to lose her in an explosion at her family's restaurant. With the Romano family murdered shortly after meeting with Misti Alarcon and the Suarez family, Adam returns to Barrows Bay to confront his own family about their knowledge or involvement in those deaths.

 

Adam soon begins spiraling down from a severe bout of depression at his loss and betrayal; he heads to San Diego, California to enter a treatment program at the prestigious Tolan Clinic. He meets and becomes close to Patsy Murray, a highly respected genealogist, as the mystery of his family background begins to emerge, causing a cascade of consequences for both Adam and Patsy as they are both pursued, but for vastly different reasons.

 

A historical mystery of immense proportions, unsolved for hundreds of years, becomes central to the plot, its characters and the resolution of long-held family secrets. Nothing is as it seems and the twists and turns of this adventure tests all cunning and courage that Adam can muster. 

 

Old characters from the Cryptid Trilogy emerge, but with different personalities as the Many Worlds Interpretation of the cosmos begins to play out.

 

The action picks up, the chase and mysteries are on, and once again Adam faces love, lust, danger, and betrayal as he unlocks the mystery of old enemies and rivals now on planet Earth. Are they there to help, hinder or confuse?

 

Follow Adam as he confronts dangers from all beings now having a stake in his life and the outcome of the struggles against the dangerous forces arrayed against him.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Douglas Roff
• Release date: Jan 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223361497

Douglas Roff

Douglas Roff is a retired corporate executive. He has lived around the world working in various capacities for government and industry.  Doug has written twenty-nine novels to date, mostly in the mystery, paranormal and fantasy genres, but not exclusively.  He currently resides in Latin America, speaks Spanish, and is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada.  

Book preview

Prologue

Seven men and four women assembled in London, all genealogists by training and experience, all erudite, well-known and famous in their unique niche specialties. No matter title or job description, their real job was to uncover the mysteries of who was related to whom, and how. Their research techniques included access to some of the most secret and richest sources of data not readily available to other genealogical organizations. They used not only data from religious and secular sources, official government records and historical documents, but also the private diaries and papers of the lesser-known personages. Some seeking to know their lineage were highborn, or low born, but who nonetheless each carried a splash of blood from the uber-wealthy royalty, or historical figures, in their veins.

These eleven men and women sat around the huge mahogany table with ornately decorated chairs, white-gloved servants delivering tea or stouter libations to settle the nerves before making the decisions which bound them in secrecy and brotherhood. They were the crème de la crème, not only in their chosen profession, but of British society; they were social scions with ‘old money’, often titled and whose arrogance was unmatched. They had position and standing; the men through knighthood, the women through damehood; each could trace their lineage back hundreds of years.

This organization, the Societas Regis de Genealogia, the Society, was not a membership organization per se; membership was by invitation only, and its members were carefully screened and vetted to admit only the best to their cabal, those who were thought superior by blood and birth, and who were proved to be English, and only English, for numerous generations. The Welsh, Scots and Northern Irish were part of Great Britain, but they did not have the proper blood flowing in their veins. Saxon and Celtic heritage was a plus, but only those whose DNA dated back to the arrival of the Romans in the British Isles were deemed most fit.

The number of the Soliti in residence, the inner circle of the Society, never varied. There were seventeen in total, but the inner sanctum sanctorum numbered only eleven. A unanimous vote of all eleven, the eleven chosen for the role of leadership, was required for taking certain actions and making essential decisions. If an elder of the eleven died or became incapacitated, the next up from the remaining six would assume his or her rightful place. Then the search would begin for the replacement to once again count their numbers at seventeen. A list of candidates was maintained, fully vetted and histories thoroughly researched.

The seventeen were also members of the principal prestigious genealogical and historical societies both in Great Britain and other countries they deemed of merit worldwide. In truth, this was but a euphemism for former British colonies where ne’er-do-wells of great families and royalty were often dumped, often indolent and usually just ahead of their creditors.

Creditors was a vague term; in most cases, debt mostly involved gambling losses, one of the most common afflictions of the English upper classes in centuries past.

As royalty receded in wealth and power, and industrialists ascended, marriages were arranged to stem the rising tide of poverty among the titled nobility. Marrying a title still had great social and political value, though the subsequent untimely deaths of some wealthy older spouses was not uncommon. In the days before forensic science, death could be a random and unexpected event. Was it just bad luck that the eighty-year-old widower died months after marriage to a much younger blushing bride? Death in childbirth was also pervasive in centuries past, and marriage contracts often stipulated where the money from the dowry went. In most cases, the husband took control of family assets; in some cases, the wife held the purse strings even after death.

In the distant past, royalty fought royalty, Catholics battled Protestants, and Protestants killed Catholics. Families of wealth and status on the losing side would often find themselves branded traitors, their lands and property confiscated by the Crown. Henry the VIII had a penchant for doing this to his political enemies along with the rape of the Catholic Church’s real estate holdings. Churches, convents, monasteries, friaries and all properties Catholic became Henry’s property. Suffice it to say that confiscation-born grudges blossomed and bloomed. Ancient blood oaths to one day avenge one travesty or another were sworn centuries ago, and revenge taken opportunistically, right up to the present day.

Quietly.

The Society often had a hand in such revenge killings; for revenge to be taken, the identities of the victims had to be established with certainty. Much rode on that correctness, from acquisition of ancient titles and privileges to more modern wealth.

The practical side of the equation was that many whose ancestors were the cause of the dishonor were themselves now poor and had no means of compensating a humiliation caused hundreds of years ago, and which were mostly lost to history.

But not to everyone.

Though only the English were worthy members in this Society, the Soliti decided years ago that they would export their activities to other countries with similarly disaffected royals. France, Italy, Greece, Austria, in fact, all the European and Scandinavian countries with a royal past could affiliate with the Societas Regis de Genealogia. While such organizations could not be a part of the Society proper, it could still affiliate with the Society. They would function as resources when required; the Society chose targets and helped individuals and families when it suited their needs and goals. After all, intermarriage of penniless royals might find the odd English scoundrel in Austria, Germany, France or Sweden. Their progeny might still be around, and if possible, the Society would locate them and use them.

The Society’s new business model, perfected over the past one hundred years, appeared to the outside world to be purely oriented to academic genealogy; such was not the case. It was something else entirely, and far more lucrative than merely determining who had a second family secreted away somewhere a hundred years ago.

Their brand of academic pursuit earned millions, billions as the decades rolled on. They had proprietary information; secret historical data no one else knew, the details of which they never released or shared until ...

The Society advanced certain potential heirs while suppressing others, all for a fee. And in some cases, they manufactured history that did not exist.

Who else could do that without suspicion?

You said the matter was closed with the death of the woman and the child. Now you say that isn't the case. Explain this immense failure that has cost us hundreds of thousands of Pounds Sterling. What have you to say?

"I have no excuse, but the marriage contract was mistranslated; there were additional clauses left out and only recently retrieved from the Biblioteca Nacional de Espana. Our local brethren missed the addendums. I apologize, but translating old documents is not in my portfolio. Neither is it in yours. I believe you decided to leave this to the Sociedad de Genealogia Espanola. If blame is what you have in mind, look in the mirror. I have none in this matter."

The old man was furious at this catastrophic failure, but his colleague was correct. Rather than use their own resources, they used their affiliate. The result was disastrous, but could still be rectified.

The younger man said, "We also found other matters to assuage your ill temper. The target’s father and the target are also in line independently to inherit vast sums of money. If we can move quickly, we can kill twice, substitute our own people, and collect three fortunes for the deaths of three relatively unknown Americans and one more old man. None are aware of their heritage; all will be easy marks.

Who are they?

Edward St. James, Adam St. James, Misti Alarcon and her father, Carlos Alarcon.

What do we know about them?

The St. James men live, or lived, in Barrows Bay, BC in Canada. Misti Alarcon is in the wind; we think she’s connected to the business interests of elder St. James in some fashion. Carlos Alarcon is a naturalized American citizen and resides in Blaine, Washington, near the US/Canada border. The elder St. James is a well-known forensic archeologist and is closely connected to law enforcement globally. The son is a software engineer specializing in artificial intelligence. The Alarcon gentleman is a retired Seattle cop.

Could be dangerous. The connections to law enforcement could spell trouble.

Not if we take them out at the same time, in one giant accident.

Where are they now?

Alarcon is in Blaine, the elder St. James is in Barrows Bay, and the younger St. James is traveling somewhere. He suffers from acute depression after the death of his wife and unborn child. He’s spiraling downward and out of control; no one will miss him.

I didn’t ask about his state of mind. I asked where he was. Quit stalling.

We don’t know, not yet anyway. But he always goes back to his company, the St. James Mindwerks in New York City. He will again, or we’ll find him wherever he’s hiding out. Give me a couple of weeks, and I’ll wrap this up nice and tidy.

You said that a year ago. Didn’t turn out as you predicted.

That was then; this is now. We need to move forward, not look back.

She’ll have all our hides if we cock this up again. She’s watching all of us but has taken a special interest in this little project. You’re at point for the team; don’t screw up.

Then we’ll do this right and eliminate them once and for all. You should have acted years ago. This fiasco is on you if anyone asks.

Chapter 1

Adam St. James was the only child of the marriage between Edward St. James and his wife, Anna. Edward thought his family history of untimely tragic deaths portended some sort of multi-generational revenge on the clan St. James; Adam didn’t believe such ridiculous notions of predestined tragedy. However, Edward had objective data on his side; the first wives of the St. James' men in direct lineal descent going back many generations did not fare well. Going back over a hundred years, a significant number of young women died young in childbirth, or due to an illness, or through misadventure.

Edward’s parents came from a long line of hardy immigrant farmers from England and France who settled in the midwest establishing roots in Iowa. They led quiet lives, worked the soil to eke out a living and raised a family through good times, plentiful rain and bumper crops, but also through times tempered with sadness, disappointment, and drought.

Phineas St. James had lost his first wife and daughter in an automobile accident. He remarried, this time to an academic he knew well, Edna Mason, a political scientist from his native state of Iowa. She was a lovely woman who was born and raised not more than one hundred miles from where Phineas and his first wife grew up together. Edward’s parents were academics, religious and quiet; what beef could anyone have with them? Or, for that matter, with their unruly and precocious child with an exceptional IQ.

After high school, Edward left for the west coast for university; shortly after, both his parents died in an automobile accident.

Edward met and married Anna Theal, a woman he met by accident while attending UCLA as a grad student. Both were archeologists, Anna in field work and Edward in the emerging field of forensic archeology. They held off having children, but when Anna missed her period after five years of marriage, they celebrated and welcomed the news that they were expecting a child, a son.

Their only son was fit and healthy, so no one paid too much attention to the quiet and studious boy who seemed unable to burn off his excess energy in socially acceptable ways. Eventually his parents had him psychologically and academically evaluated at the age of four. Adam had anger and rage issues in him, making the boy, at times, almost impossible to manage. He was sent from one therapist to another, sometimes lasting only weeks. His acting out was at times too much for even the most experienced therapists to handle.

Something inside Adam rebelled against the obvious fact that his parents adored him; a fact that was somehow lost on him. His parents were inexplicably confused; their son was gifted, but his intelligence only seemed to exacerbate his emotional challenges. His therapies did not go well; later he would admit that the only thing he learned in therapy was that, in the world of adults, there was often a significant disparity between what adults said and what adults did. Adam loved his parents, but he had trust issues with everyone else whose last name wasn’t ‘St. James’ and whose first name wasn’t ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad.’

Do as I say, not as I do, was a phrase he later learned was more truth than fiction. Edward and Anna stopped his therapy and quit listening to the constant and facile advice given that to curb him, he just needed to be medicated. Instead, they kept their own counsel and decided on a different form of therapy more suited to their brilliant child; keep him busy and challenged. They put young Adam to work on their family hobby, computers and software development, giving him responsibilities, structure, and a massive dose of unconditional love. If Adam didn't want to socialize, but preferred to work on a problem, his father let him. His son was unique; so too would be his life. 

Against Anna’s wishes, Edward enrolled Adam in a jiu-jitsu class at the Victoria Institute, where Edward and Anna were Fellows, under the tutelage of Olympic medal-winning instructor, Bill the Bellman Archer. Edward thought it best to teach the boy self-discipline through martial arts as a way to control his anger and prevent potential outbursts with other kids. Adam drew even more introspective after that; jiu-jitsu did, however, give him an outlet for his pent-up negative energy. Adam could work the bag with punches and kicks to his heart’s content until all the rage for that day had dissipated. Archer also introduced the boy to Muay Thai and other martial disciplines, so the little kid grew up confident and secure. Archer and his father taught Adam that his skills were unique and he should only use them to protect himself, his family, and those who could not defend themselves. His anger curbed and better controlled, his confidence in the love of his parents restored, he settled into a quiet life of a formidable physical and intellectual kid, small for his age but toughened and guided by an internal moral compass of right and wrong that would remain with him for the rest of his life.

His mother and father always admonished Edward to use his words and, if to no avail, do whatever he thought was right. Fighting was to be the last option; walking away from bullies and idiots who posed no threat to him was a sign of strength, not weakness. If he could take any of them any time then doing so unnecessarily proved nothing, they said. What he knew inside was what mattered, not the taunts of bullies. Adam heard the messages loud and clear and never started any fights and, though a quiet and shy boy, was one who was never tested after a certain point in his childhood. A few tried; they all failed.

Then, when he was eleven, he met a girl. She was a friend of the family living in Seattle, the daughter of his father’s oldest and best friend, Carlos Alarcon. Misti Alarcon was everything to him; she understood and got him. From the moment they laid eyes on each other, it was love. Love that endured until one day it didn’t. Life was painful after that; relationships with women did not form, and his trust issues returned with a vengeance.

He was twenty when his world fell apart.

In high school, the girls were mostly uninterested in the studious teen who many of the boys liked to stay away from. His fashion was ‘uncool, he was uninterested in pop music, social events and lacked school spirit. He was called a lot of names from hothead and weirdo to psycho and fag," usually by boys who tried to bully him or just didn’t like the quiet, but intellectual teen. Name calling was almost always behind his back, but even when said directly to his face, he was impassive. Most boys had little to say to the kid who was so unconnected to the typical school experience. Introvert and outsider were what his parents and teachers thought, a pure academic, that’s all.

Most kids knew the truth. Adam was nerdy and geeky, quiet and not socially adept, but was a good kid and a loyal friend. He was always approachable; the younger, weaker kids looked to him for protection from bullies. He wouldn’t hurt anyone unless provoked by his unique moral code. The guys all knew that Adam had never started a fight in his life but had ended more than one by his early teens. On occasion in middle school, he had warned bullies to leave the nerds and geeks alone, especially the quiet kids, the smaller kids, and the loners.

One teen in his high school told his newly arrived girlfriend, He looks harmless unless provoked by some kid, then it's best to steer clear of him. He can be dangerous, and I mean ‘emergency room’ dangerous. If I’m not around and anyone ever bothers you, if Adam is around, ask for his help. He’ll protect you even if I can’t.

Word got around after that, and although he never had a local girlfriend or much female companionship in high school, never went to a dance or a prom, it wasn’t uncommon for Adam to get a call at night to come back to school and walk a girl home. His parents hoped this would spark something else in him, but Adam never saw the connection. Walks home with girls were often slow and chatty, not something Adam did much at school and usually ended with a thank you kiss. Parents in their small town of Barrows Bay never worried if Adam was around. He was a good kid, and a daughter was always safe with him. His odd behavior, however, was not an inducement to romantic feelings; girls were curious, but no chemistry ever seemed to develop.

Adam thought only of Misti Alarcon, his girlfriend in Seattle; he believed she returned his love in kind.

When he graduated from high school, one of the girls invited Adam to a party, a party she knew he would never attend. Adam didn’t go to parties, preferring the solitude of study or working out on the bag in the gym. Instead, the party came to him. Over twenty girls attended who were still attending or had attended high school with Adam over the years; no guys were invited. It was Adam’s club, and this was his farewell thank you before he left for college at CalTech.

The party was in the chapel at the Victoria Institute that had not held a religious service in years. That was not to say it was never used; it’s where the local teens went to be alone and away from prying parental eyes. Adam’s parents knew that this was mostly harmless hormones. His friends Sheila Cooper and Mitzi Anders had organized the event, so there might be a little misbehavior just this once. Edward spoke to his wife about being overly concerned about the emotional wellbeing of her son. Edward said this was a well-deserved thank you, and, after all, they had once been young and were probably much less well behaved. Anna smiled. She admitted she might have had some experiences rolling in the hay with a few boys as a teen.

One of the girls, Sheila, had experienced more than one run-in during high school with unwanted attention from older boys. She was cute, but whether a blessing or a curse, she had developed early and by high school, all sorts of nicknames were floating around school about her ample chest. She avoided dating, which always seemed to end in a grab-fest. On one occasion, as Sheila left the library, she was approached by several boys who wanted to talk to her. On this occasion, Sheila didn’t want to talk and told them so. She was in distress as Adam walked out of the library, witnessing that Sheila was hemmed in by four boys and unable to walk away.

Adam shouted, Sheila, C'mon, we’re going to be late. Your folks will have my hide if you’re not back by five. I’m invited to dinner. It’s your mom’s pot roast, so what are we waiting for?

I ... I didn’t know, I mean I forgot. We better get going.

One of the guys said, Sheila and I aren’t finished talking, St. James. So back off. I’ll tell you when we’re done here.

No, you’re done now. I suggest you back away from my girl and be a lot more respectful. I don’t like bullies, and I’d rather not hurt you. But keep this up, and I will.

The boy, a transfer from another school, was big and brawny but not the super athletic type. He looked at the wiry and shorter Adam and assessed it would take no more than a punch or two to be rid of this pest. He wanted some alone time with Sheila, and he was going to have it. His three friends warned the new kid that he was making a big mistake. It was better to leave now and for the new kid to forget about Sheila then, and forever.

Adam stepped over to Sheila and grabbed her hand.

Time to go. We’re late.

The kid grabbed Adam by the shoulder to spin him around and punch him. That was the last thing the kid remembered until he woke up on the ground, seeing stars.

Adam walked Sheila home, spoke to her parents and said not to worry, this wasn’t his first intervention and that the local RCMP Constable, Mark Eaton, would likely visit them, but that Sheila could explain what happened.

Better that she rests up. I’ll watch out for her at school. She’ll be fine.

Sheila’s parents weren’t sure whether to thank Adam or call the Constable themselves. They spoke to Sheila who confirmed everything Adam said; then they called the school. The principal called back to assure Sheila’s parents that Adam was a good kid, this had happened before and that Constable, Mark Eagan, never had a problem with what Adam had done in the past. Time was always of the essence when Adam acted, and there was no way for the Constable to get on scene fast enough.

He’s Junior Olympic jiu-jitsu level for his age group. But he doesn’t fight or compete, just spars. His mother is an old-school hippie pacifist and won't allow him to enter fighting events. But he’s a handful when provoked. Your daughter said he tried to walk away with her without provoking the other kid, but the kid grabbed him and tried to punch him; she was afraid the kid was going to assault her too. You should thank him. By the way, he’s a top student, doesn’t party, use drugs or drink, smoke or ever cause any trouble. He is, however, a little odd. I think Sheila may be able to confirm that too, but I’m told he’s mostly quiet and shy and keeps to himself at school. He only goes to the prep for his friends. He graduated from high school at fourteen and had been doing undergraduate work at CalTech since then. Slow and steady progress. His mom wants him to socialize and have a normal life. He could probably have had a PhD by now if he wanted.

Sheila took the next day off and stayed home. The day after, Sheila saw Adam sitting alone as usual in the library and came over to his table.

I wanted to thank you for, you know, that stuff that happened the other day. My folks were a little rough on you and asked if you might drop by sometime for dinner – pot roast – and so they could thank you and get to know you a little better.

Yeah, of course. I need to tell my folks, but I think it’ll be alright. What time and when?

Six tomorrow night, but you can still walk me home after school if you want to. I mean if you didn’t have anything else you needed to do.

Are you kidding? Whatever I had planned is officially canceled.

The other day you told those kids that I was your girl, which we both know isn’t true. The big kid wouldn’t know or care, but the other three hadn’t heard we were going steady. Nobody had. It’s all around school now that we’re dating and we’re together.

I know. But it seemed like the fastest way out of the problem at the time. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I can tell other kids we just broke up or I just made it up. Rich fantasy life. I mean who’d believe I could ever have a great girl like you as my girlfriend.

"No, no. That’s not it at all. Not even close. Any girl would be lucky to have you as a boyfriend. Of course, you might need to socialize a little; let girls know who you really are. Talking to a girl might help too.

She paused, something else was on her mind.

"But what I wanted to ask if it’s OK with you, I mean I was just wondering if you would let everyone know that we are a couple. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t even know what that would be like."

It’s all right. I know who you like, and I’m fine with it. Saying we're together adds to my rep, even if it’s just for show.

It wouldn’t be like that at all. I would never ...

"Sheila, I’m a shy, geeky, nerdy type but I’m not blind. I know you don’t have or want a boyfriend. You have someone else special in your life. It’s a secret, and it'll stay that way."

You knew? Does everyone ...?

"Not from me. And I doubt it. I know Mitzi too, and she’s a nice girl. We go to the same Church in Victoria; my parents have known her parents forever. I’ve known Mitzi and about Mitzi for a very long time. Ask her; we talk. Her secret has always been safe with me, and so is yours. Besides she goes to that private Catholic High School in Victoria. I doubt anyone here even knows her."

Sheila cried and hugged Adam, which didn’t go unnoticed by the other students. Then she gave him a big kiss and closed up her book.

"I wish I liked boys. I’d love to really be your girlfriend."

Or maybe if I was a girl, I could win you away from Mitzi though I do love Mitzi too. You two could be sisters.

Adam paused, Just between us girls, I do have a girlfriend, Misti Alarcon, just not here in Barrows. She lives in Seattle. Maybe we could double-date some time. Just be careful; Misti likes girls too.

You don’t mind?

Why should I? She’s there; I’m here. We have hormonal urges; we have to be practical.

Then can I kiss you every day? In public. I’d love to go on a double date sometime.

Consider it a done deal. I’ll ask Misti if she can come up for a visit. Her dad and mine are best friends. They always enjoyed visiting, and I think they want Misti and I to tie the knot someday.

You’re a lot different than most guys. I don’t think most guys would be as open-minded as you.

Well, she’s there. I get some compensatory mercy kisses now and then. I’m not completely without female company.

You go with other girls ...?

No. That’s only for Misti. But you know there are other things a girl can do for a guy. I get lucky from time to time.

Anyone, I know?

I don’t talk about you, so I don’t talk about them either. I keep secrets, and I keep my word.

"Maybe Mitzi and I can date you some time. Together. Would Misti mind?"

No. But she’d want equal time once she visits.

I’m always ready for that. Tell her to hurry up for a visit.

Done.

I’ll ask Mitzi, but maybe we’ll invite you over for a make out session. Get the other perspective. Her parents are out of town for the weekend. We can Skype with Misti if she’d like.

I’m not busy Friday night.

Pervert.

"Geeky, nerdy pervert. Let’s be clear on that point up front."

Chapter 2

When Misti graduated from high school and chose UCLA as her first choice in colleges, Adam was ecstatic. He was two years her senior and would now be just across town at CalTech in Pasadena. He rented an upscale condo midway between schools that they had long planned would be their private domain, close enough to commute, far enough away for privacy. They were young, happy and in love. They had been best buddies and experimental lovers all their teenage years; there were no other serious romantic interests for either. They had each other, and that had always been more than enough for both.

When Misti was ready to move down to LA, he was prepared. They had planned everything in every detail and were set to leave right after Misti’s graduation. Misti called a few days before graduation and asked to meet Adam in Seattle as soon as he could.

He was there the next day.

Misti looked intently at Adam looking as though she didn’t know where to begin.

I can’t come with you. You have to go on ahead alone.

OK. I’ll go tomorrow. Get everything ready for when you arrive. No big deal.

That’s not what I mean.

OK. What do you mean?

Adam was getting uncomfortable as if something was wrong and he was now the last to know.

"I’m not coming with you now or ever. I’m breaking up with you. Our relationship is over. I’m moving on."

What are you talking about? I want to marry you. Be together always. It’s what we planned from the time we were little kids. Nothing’s changed, has it?

It has. I changed my mind. I don’t love you anymore like that, and I need my freedom. I want to experience life on my own, a life away from Barrows Bay and you. I want to experience all that life has to offer, and you aren’t in my plans. Not anymore.

Take time off, travel. Find yourself but don’t do this. Why are you acting this way?

I need more than you. I need to have others in my life; to experience more than just one guy.

Other men?

Yes. You can’t be all there is to life. I’m sorry, I should have told you this long ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to choose between the personal freedom I crave and a life just with you. I choose freedom. I love you for all we have meant to each other, but I’m not ready for just one man. Maybe one day; just not today.

Adam was dumbfounded and in shock. If that’s what you want, then OK. This was a cold and cruel way to undo all that we were; I'll never forgive you. I trusted you with my heart, and you’ve tossed me aside as if you were just canceling a hair appointment.

She turned to walk away.

Who did you talk to about this? Or was this all your doing?

Cindy. She helped me decide what was right for me, not you.

Adam walked away and returned to Barrows Bay alone.

Brother, Rod Suarez, Adam’s brother exclaimed. What brings you here tonight? I thought you lovebirds would be packing and having one last goodbye fuck on your way south.

Step aside, Rod. Quit lying and get your wife out here. We need to talk.

Adam’s tone unsettled Rod.

Dude, settle down. You’re agitated. Come in and have a seat.

I’ll stand, and I won’t be staying long.

Rod shouted for Cindy, who arrived momentarily.

Adam said, I understand you’ve been advising Misti behind my back.

Misti and I talk. What we discuss doesn’t concern you.

I disagree.

Then let me rephrase my answer. It’s none of your business, Adam. Case closed.

Rod asked, What’s this all about?

Cindy said, None of your business either, Rod. Stay out of this.

Adam looked at his brother and best friend growing up in Barrows Bay, a bond forged by two families seamlessly united as one.

Divorce her, take the children and be rid of this malevolent witch.

Careful brother, that’s my wife you’re talking about.

Ask her, if she’s capable of speaking the truth, then decide about what she's done behind my back. Then it’s her or me. Take your time, but I leave in the morning for CalTech. Please swear that you knew nothing about this.

I’m in the dark here. I’ll speak to Cindy, then you. That’s all I know.

Adam spoke to Maria, Pops, Rod, and Cindy again. He made it clear that the world was now divided into two parts. If any of them had had any communication with Misti without letting him in on the secret, they too were out of his life.

The family was likewise clear; Adam did not dictate terms in the family. He agreed that was only fair and it was their personal decision to make. Inside he was raging; this was almost too much to bear from a family who had taken Misti's side.

Adam said calmly and quietly, This is just my explanation of attendant consequences. There is no penalty, no terms, just consequences.

One by one they said they would not, could not do as he had requested, so they would just have to suffer the consequences. Everyone, Cindy and Rod included, assumed this episode would blow over in time. Being rough on Adam was nothing new; he would come around. Without family, he was lost.

Adam packed that night, left a note addressed to all and departed for LA. He finished up his PhD at CalTech, then he moved to New York City.

He had no contact with his family in the years following the confrontation. Letters were returned unopened; requests for assistance ignored. Emails were deleted, and phone calls went unanswered. His official corporate biography made no mention of his family; those who asked were told they died years ago.