29. Butterfly

“Oh my God,” I gasped when I received a message from Brand saying DeDe was a missing MI5 agent believed to be on the run from a human trafficking ring taken down in the last few days by the coalition.

Coincidentally, I was a few minutes away from Patchogue. My plan had been to check on DeDe’s car to make sure it was still where I’d left it in the parking structure, then to see if she wanted a visitor.

What can I do?I responded.

Make contact. Tell her Sven wants to know if she’s wearing her boater,he responded. If that makes sense to her, send her this photo. The man, Sven, who I think is Linnea’s father, is in Patchogue, waiting to hear from you. He forwarded the picture and the man’s cell number.

I called the cottage’s landline, letting it ring twice, then again thirty seconds later. It was the code DeDe and I had come up with so we could communicate outside of the secure app, particularly if I needed to reach her quickly.

“Hello?” she answered.

“I have a message for you.”

“Go on.”

“Someone named Sven wants to know if you’re wearing your boater. Does that mean anything to you?”

“It does,”she cried.

I immediately sent a text to Sven, who responded and confirmed he was in Patchogue, waiting to hear from me.

“He’s here in town, DeDe. As it turns out, he works with the same group Brand is working for now. He’s asked to see you and has sent me a photo to prove it’s him,” I told her.

When she said it was okay, I sent it to her cell.

“It’s him!”

“I’ll bring him over now if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. Just…hurry.”

I quickly discoveredit wasn’t just Sven who was in Patchogue. Several of the people I’d met in Shere were with him.

“We’ll wait here in Patchogue with Gustav, Puck’s father, until we hear from him,” Nemesis informed me. “I’m sure Puck and Seshat would like some time on their own.”

I assumed she was talking about Sven and DeDe, but was having a hard time processing that the woman I’d befriended and her mother had been on the run from the leader of a human trafficking ring who wanted them killed. I was just happy it wasn’t the baby’s father DeDe was hiding from.

“I’ll take the ferry over with Sven and point him in the direction of the cottage, then come right back,” I told her.

“How’s she been?”Sven asked when the island came into view.

“It hasn’t been easy. But, look!” I pointed to where DeDe waited near the landing with the baby.

“It’s them!” he exclaimed.

My eyes filled with tears when his did, so grateful I got to witness their reunion. “Once the ferry docks, you go on ahead.”

He hugged me. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary.” I put my arm through his when he ended our embrace. “Seeing the three of you together, knowing that DeDe and Linnea are safe, is all that matters.”

“Linnea,” he whispered. “It was my mum’s name.”

“I’m not surprised she chose it.”

“Wait. Where’s her mother?”

“She was ill and passed away.”

Sven’s face fell. “When?”

“A few weeks ago.” I looked out the window at the guys attaching the ferry lines to the dock. “We’re tied off. Go!”

I stood back and waited, wanting to give them privacy but unable to tear my eyes away when Sven ran to where DeDe waited and put his arms around her and the baby.

When it started to rain, I got off the boat and joined them on the docks.

“Okay, you two, or three, let’s get you to the house, where it’s warm. The others are waiting for your go-ahead to board the next ferry,” I said, motioning to the golf cart DeDe and I had used when I brought her here a month ago.

“I hope you don’t mind if my dad, along with some of the people who have been searching for you, want to come to the island. I can tell them to hold off,” Sven told her.

DeDe shook her head. “I want to see them. Especially your dad.”

The ferry whistle blew. “I’ll head back across now. When you’re ready, just send a message, and I’ll get them loaded on the next scheduled trip,” I offered.

Before I could walk away, DeDe put her hand on my arm. “Can you stay? I’m sure they can find the way.”

I was about to say I didn’t want to intrude, but I stopped myself. Selfish as it was, I wanted to witness this reunion.

I excused myself when we returned to Butterfly Cottage and sent a message to Brand, including a photo I’d taken of the family from where I stood on the ferry as I watched their first few moments together.

I pray that, soon, we’ll be in each other’s arms. I love you. I brushed away my tears and watched the screen for his response.

I love you, Butterfly, and when we meet again, I want to spend as much time as we can at the cottage.

I lookedout the window of the kitchen, where I’d gone both to make myself scarce and to prepare some food for when the others arrived, when I saw the ferry approaching.

“They’re here!” I shouted. “Be right back.” I raced out the door and drove the golf cart to the dock, where everyone got loaded onto the others waiting in the parking lot.

Once I returned at the cottage, I knocked, and Sven opened the door to find his father was the first person waiting. He went in alone.

“Thank you for taking care of Seshat,” said Nemesis, putting her arm around my shoulders.

“She and Linnea mean a lot to me.” I wiped my tears. “It’s crazy how we met. I’m not the type of person who usually starts a conversation with a stranger, but when she and I were seated on benches close to one another, I was compelled to.”

“I don’t know about you, but I believe people are put in our paths for a reason. You were meant to meet Seshat and keep her safe until Sven could find her.”

I shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Brand and I were so worried about her. It was obvious she was in hiding and feared for her safety, but we were powerless to help her.”

The door opened again, and Puck invited everyone to come in from the cold. I went into the kitchen and brought the food I’d prepared out to the table, then turned around to bring out drinks.

“This is lovely,” said a woman who introduced herself as Oleander. “Can I help?”

“I was about to bring some drinks out.”

“Got any champagne?” she asked.

“Loads of it.”

“Let’s pop a few corks, shall we?”

I was sittingin the main room of the house, taking everything in, and feeling very grateful that the men and women here were Brand’s colleagues. It was clear this was far more than a job to them. They cared so much about each other.

“What now?” I heard DeDe asked.

“Anything you want,” Sven responded.

“I want to go home. Back to England, I mean.”

“I think that can be arranged. When?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Hey, Decker?” Sven hollered.

“Yeah?” the man answered, stepping into the room.

“My future wife wants to go home, as I’m sure the rest of these folks do. How soon?—”

“The plane is fueled up and waiting at JFK.”

“Hey, guys? Would it be okay if I tagged along?” I blurted, then wished I’d kept my mouth shut. I had no reason to go to London other than to feel closer to Brand.

“I think we can make room for one more,” Decker, who was standing beside me, responded.

Nemesis approached us. “I’ve an idea. How about we arrange for Michelangelo to have a break and surprise him with a visit from you?”

My eyes opened wide. “Would that be possible?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

While we were in flight,Nemesis made arrangements for me to immediately board another flight to Florence. “Brand has been alerted and will be waiting there for you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

She motioned to DeDe. “This is us giving you our thanks.”

When we landed at the airfield in Gatwick, DeDe and I said a tearful goodbye.

“Please thank Brand for me,” she said as we embraced. I assured her I would and raced off when I heard them announce the final boarding call.

I was on the plane,seated in the window seat of the third row of first class, when I looked up and my eyes met those of a very handsome Italian man. When he smiled, I looked away. It made me think of Tara and how she’d gushed about the guy who came to the gallery to meet with me about representing an artist he knew.

Like her, I could appreciate the man’s looks, but he couldn’t hold a candle to the one who held my heart.

See you soon! I messaged him. I love you.

Brand answered immediately. Counting the minutes. I love you, Butterfly.

Two hours later,when the flight landed, I was about to exit my row to deboard when a man pushed his way through from the front of the plane and blocked me.

“Penelope Ramsey?” he asked in a thick accent.

“That’s me.”

He pulled out a badge. “You will wait here while the other passengers exit the aircraft.”

“Why?” I asked.

He stepped into the row but didn’t respond. Once the last person had left, he motioned for me to stand. When I did, he spun me around and attached handcuffs to my wrists.

“Hey!” I shouted. “What’s going on?”

“You are under arrest.”

“What? That’s crazy! What for?”

“You will soon find out.”

He pulled me from the row and pushed me toward the back of the plane rather than the front.

“Wait! My bag!”

He shook his head. “You won’t be needing it.”

I glanced out the plane’s windows as he prodded me to hurry to the rear exit, wishing Brand could somehow see me or know what was happening.

When we reached the back and the man who stood behind me put a hood over my head, I knew I wasn’t being arrested; I was being kidnapped.