Free If I'd Never Known Your Love by Georgia Bockoven Page B

computer in Jason's room to look up Envigado's exact location.
    The phone rang again.
    Her heart in her throat, she answered. "What is it? What are you trying to tell me?"
    "Julia?" her mother said hesitantly. "Is that you?"
    Julia sat on the corner of the bed. "I thought you were someone else."
    "Obviously. What's wrong?"
    "Nothing." If she told her mother about the strange phone calls, she would either say Julia was cracking up or that it was another sign. Julia wasn't up to dealing with either possibility. "It's been a busy morning and I'm feeling a little on edge about the meeting with this new ambassador."
    "It sounded like something more than that."
    "Really, it's nothing."
    "All right. I was just checking up on you, and wanted to tell you I had a dream about Evan last night. You two were sitting in the backyard in those special chairs you bought to celebrate his birthday last year."
    "Adirondack," Julia said.
    "You were so happy," her mother continued. "I woke up and I was crying. I asked everyone at church to say a prayer that this new ambassador will be able to do something."
    "Thanks, Mom." Even with call waiting she was reluctant to stay on the phone any longer. "I have to let you go so I can finish packing."
    "Don't forget your raincoat."
    "I won't."
    "Did Barbara stop by this morning?"
    "She did."
    "And?" Maggie prompted.
    "She gave me the clover. I have it in my purse. Now, I really do have to go."
    Two hours and six phone calls later, Julia had managed to convince herself that the strange call was simply another Colombian reporter looking for a new angle for a five-year anniversary story about the longest-held American kidnap victim. She had dressed and finished packing and was on her way downstairs, suitcase in hand, when the phone rang yet again. Mentally going over the list of friends and family who had yet to contact her, she setded on her brother.
    After five years it was more than reasonable to expect her friends and family to have shifted focus and moved past the intensity of waiting to hear something about Evan's kidnapping, which had gripped them all in the beginning. But Evan was still almost as much a part of their lives as he was hers. For a long time she'd believed their continued intimate involvement was because they loved and cared about her. And they did. But it was Evan himself who drew their hopes and concerns and prayers. They refused to believe a heart so filled with love and compassion and joy no longer beat.
    Instead of the expected baritone of her brother, Fred, she was greeted by a woman's voice. "Mrs Julia McDonald, please."
    "Speaking."
    "Please hold for Mr. Leland Crosby."
    "I'm sorry—who did you say?"
    "Mr. Leland Crosby," she repeated carefully.
    Before Julia could say anything in response, he came on the line."Leland Crosby here, Mrs. McDonald. I'm sure you don't remember me, but we met when you were in Washington a couple of years ago."
    "I'm sorry, I don't—"
    "Please, don't apologize. There's no reason for you to remember. I was one of a dozen diplomats you met that day. But since Paul Erickson was out of the office today and you and I did have that connection, I wanted to be the one to call you personally to offer my condolences and to let you know that our ambassador's office in Colombia will do everything possible to help you in any way they can."
    "Condolences?" she repeated numbly. "I don't understand."
    Agonizingly long seconds passed. "No one has contacted you? You don't know?"
    "Know what?"
    "Just a moment, please." She couldn't make out what was said next, but the angry tone clearly made it through the muffled receiver. "I'm truly sorry, Mrs. McDonald. I was told the Colombian authorities had already contacted you, that you'd already been informed."
    "Informed about what?" she demanded.
    "Your husband."
    Her hand tightened around the receiver. "Evan?" Panic squeezed her chest. She fought to take a breath. "Is he all right?" How could he be? No one offered condolences