lingering guilt that we'd somehow had this superstar character living amongst us but, as with real superstars about whom one reads endless details in tabloids and newspapers, we really knew nothing of substance about her. But I was done with guilt.
"You know what I think, Jared?" I asked, feeling the heady effects of the cloudy gin. "Our relationship with Sereena and hers with us was just as she wanted it, just as she manipulated it to be. She had this way about her that made it feel as if she'd pulled us close, but really she kept us at a distance that felt safe to her. She was a genius at it.
"Sereena really gets to know the people around her, who they are, what they do, what they love and hate, what makes them interesting. She knows that given the slightest opening, people love to talk about themselves; I've done it, you've done it, we all have. But her ability to have people reveal themselves to her without reciprocating is also her way of hiding from them, like some kind of protective barrier."
Jared nodded thoughtfully. "So while we're self-importantly gushing on about ourselves and our lives, all we've managed to learn about her are the snippets of gossip and anecdotes she's judiciously meted out."
"All of them insignificantly small pieces of a big life," I said, "none of which come even close to revealing the bigger picture. And, unfortunately, that fact has made it virtually impossible for me to find her. I've been such a lousy detective when it comes to this, Jared. Over the years there've been clues about her cloudy past that I noticed but did nothing about: the elevator operator in New York City who called her Mrs. Ashbourne; the mysterious man aboard the yacht whom she refused to identify or even acknowledge existed. Her initials are SOS, for Pete's sake!"
"Mysterious man on a yacht?"
I slugged back the last drops of my martini. "You know, the last time I saw Sereena was on a yacht-the Kismet -in the Mediterranean. I noticed a man, really just an indistinct character in the shadows, but he seemed intent on watching me. Yet, when I confronted Sereena about him, she acted as if I were seeing things. Later, when I researched the ownership of the boat, I found it was registered to the A&W
Corporation. When I dug further, I discovered that A&W stands for Ashbourne and Wistonchuk."
19 of 163
3/15/2011 10:56 PM
D: BOOKS/Anthony Bidulka - Russell Quant Mystery/Anthony B...
Jared's brow furrowed. "Ashbourne...the name the man in New York called her."
"Yes, and Wistonchuk is my mother's maiden name!"
"What? How...what does it mean?"
I shook my head like a dog with stick-on fleas. "Who knows!" My months-old exasperation was beginning to show. "Sereena, or Mrs. Ashbourne, or whatever her real name is, is gone and my mother claims ignorance...which I tend to buy; she's about as mysterious as a bowl of mashed potatoes. Since then, all my investigations have run into solid dead ends. Every time I think I've found a lead, it dries up like a dandelion and blows away. It's as if the whole world is in cahoots in hiding her from me. And I'm not good enough to find her, too stupid to figure this whole thing out!"
Jared reached across the table and laid his hand over mine and through sheer force of will urged my eyes to meet his. "Russell, you know that isn't true, don't you? None of this is your fault. Not finding her is not your fault. We've all seen what you've gone through these past months trying to find her. You think we haven't noticed, but we have. You have tried to move mountains to find her, all at the expense of your own time and money and career. Sereena hasn't been found because she doesn't want to be found. She wasn't stolen away; she's not some helpless damsel locked away in some tower awaiting your rescue.
"She's our friend-she's one of your best friends-so it hurts that she's not here, that you can't do anything to bring her back, but it's not through lack of trying. It's not because you're not good
"You know what I think, Jared?" I asked, feeling the heady effects of the cloudy gin. "Our relationship with Sereena and hers with us was just as she wanted it, just as she manipulated it to be. She had this way about her that made it feel as if she'd pulled us close, but really she kept us at a distance that felt safe to her. She was a genius at it.
"Sereena really gets to know the people around her, who they are, what they do, what they love and hate, what makes them interesting. She knows that given the slightest opening, people love to talk about themselves; I've done it, you've done it, we all have. But her ability to have people reveal themselves to her without reciprocating is also her way of hiding from them, like some kind of protective barrier."
Jared nodded thoughtfully. "So while we're self-importantly gushing on about ourselves and our lives, all we've managed to learn about her are the snippets of gossip and anecdotes she's judiciously meted out."
"All of them insignificantly small pieces of a big life," I said, "none of which come even close to revealing the bigger picture. And, unfortunately, that fact has made it virtually impossible for me to find her. I've been such a lousy detective when it comes to this, Jared. Over the years there've been clues about her cloudy past that I noticed but did nothing about: the elevator operator in New York City who called her Mrs. Ashbourne; the mysterious man aboard the yacht whom she refused to identify or even acknowledge existed. Her initials are SOS, for Pete's sake!"
"Mysterious man on a yacht?"
I slugged back the last drops of my martini. "You know, the last time I saw Sereena was on a yacht-the Kismet -in the Mediterranean. I noticed a man, really just an indistinct character in the shadows, but he seemed intent on watching me. Yet, when I confronted Sereena about him, she acted as if I were seeing things. Later, when I researched the ownership of the boat, I found it was registered to the A&W
Corporation. When I dug further, I discovered that A&W stands for Ashbourne and Wistonchuk."
19 of 163
3/15/2011 10:56 PM
D: BOOKS/Anthony Bidulka - Russell Quant Mystery/Anthony B...
Jared's brow furrowed. "Ashbourne...the name the man in New York called her."
"Yes, and Wistonchuk is my mother's maiden name!"
"What? How...what does it mean?"
I shook my head like a dog with stick-on fleas. "Who knows!" My months-old exasperation was beginning to show. "Sereena, or Mrs. Ashbourne, or whatever her real name is, is gone and my mother claims ignorance...which I tend to buy; she's about as mysterious as a bowl of mashed potatoes. Since then, all my investigations have run into solid dead ends. Every time I think I've found a lead, it dries up like a dandelion and blows away. It's as if the whole world is in cahoots in hiding her from me. And I'm not good enough to find her, too stupid to figure this whole thing out!"
Jared reached across the table and laid his hand over mine and through sheer force of will urged my eyes to meet his. "Russell, you know that isn't true, don't you? None of this is your fault. Not finding her is not your fault. We've all seen what you've gone through these past months trying to find her. You think we haven't noticed, but we have. You have tried to move mountains to find her, all at the expense of your own time and money and career. Sereena hasn't been found because she doesn't want to be found. She wasn't stolen away; she's not some helpless damsel locked away in some tower awaiting your rescue.
"She's our friend-she's one of your best friends-so it hurts that she's not here, that you can't do anything to bring her back, but it's not through lack of trying. It's not because you're not good
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