Chapter 4: Never Seen This Woman
He talked for four minutes before the nurse took the phone away.
A lobster boat out of Grand Manan had pulled him from the water thirty-three days ago, wrapped around a cooler, with a broken arm and a body temperature of eighty-six degrees. No wallet. No phone. The hospital in Saint John, New Brunswick, had listed him as John Doe and kept him in a medically induced coma for three weeks while his lungs healed. He’d woken up five days ago. It took him three more to remember his own name, and one more to remember mine.
“The fuel line,” he said, slurring, exhausted. “Nat, the engine cut out and I went down to check it. Somebody had cut the fuel line. Then the boom swung and I was in the water.” He coughed for a long time. “Colin was on my boat that morning. Before I left. He said he was dropping off papers.”
“Adrian, I’ll call the police. I’ll come get you—”
“No. Don’t tell anyone. If Colin knows I’m alive…” He took a ragged breath. “When’s the hearing?”
“Thursday.”
“Then I’ll be there Thursday.”
I didn’t tell Dana. I didn’t tell anyone. I just sat on that motel bed until the sun came up, holding the phone against my chest like it was him.
Thursday morning, the hearing room was full. Word had gotten out. A billionaire’s two widows was too good a story for the local news to ignore, and two reporters sat in the back row with notebooks.
Dana stood up first. She presented the affidavit from Arlene Watts. She presented the courthouse photographer’s picture, timestamped, of Adrian and me laughing on the steps in the rain, my white sundress, his ridiculous anchor tie borrowed from the judge. Then she laid a thick envelope with a federal seal on the bench.
“Your Honor, this is my client’s passport application file, released by the U.S. Department of State yesterday afternoon. Inside is the certified marriage certificate she submitted three years ago. It shows Adrian Sterling married Natalie Brooks on June fourteenth. Signed by Judge Harold Price. Witnessed by Colin Reyes.” She paused. “Clerk, Arlene T. Watts.”
The judge took off her glasses and read it for a long time.
Vanessa’s lawyer was already on his feet. “Your Honor, this is clearly fabricated. Anyone can forge a—”
“Forge a federal document?” Dana said mildly. “Filed three years before Mr. Sterling went missing? That’s quite a long con.”
Eleanor stood up behind Vanessa. Her face was white with anger. “This woman has been harassing my family for a month. I want her arrested. I want—”
The doors at the back of the room opened.
Everybody turned. Then the whole room went silent, the kind of silence that has weight.
Adrian was standing in the doorway.
He’d lost twenty pounds. He had a dark beard I’d never seen, and his left arm was in a cast and a sling, and he was leaning on a Maine State Police detective who looked like she was prepared to carry him if necessary. But it was him. It was my husband, alive, in a navy overcoat that was too big for him now.
Eleanor made a sound I’ll never forget. Half a sob, half a scream. “Adrian?“
“Hi, Mom.” His voice was still rough. His eyes went across the room and found me, and held, and something in my chest that had been clenched for five weeks let go all at once.
Then he looked at the woman at the other table.
Vanessa had gone the color of paper. Her lawyer was staring at her. Her diamond hand was gripping the edge of the table.
“Mr. Sterling,” the judge said carefully. “This court has been told that this woman is your wife.”
Adrian walked forward. Slowly. The detective stayed at his elbow. He stopped in front of Vanessa’s table and looked at her for a long moment, the way you’d look at a stranger on a train.
“I’ve never seen this woman in my life,” he said.
Vanessa’s mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Behind her, chair legs scraped. Colin Reyes was on his feet, gathering his briefcase, edging toward the side door.
Adrian didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
“Sit down,” he said. “You were on my boat that morning, Colin.”
