What next? Cas.

Derek called Casper Guttenberg. “Have you heard from my dad?”

“I was about to call you. I just read his email that he’s headed to Ghana to meet this woman, Helena.”

“Did you know anything about it?” Derek asked.

“He mentioned the lady to me sometime last month, that he was thinking about meeting up with her in Ghana, but I didn’t think he was seriously planning anything this soon. How about you? Did he talk to you?”

“Yes, but not voluntarily,” Derek said. “I found out by accident and told him I thought it was a scam. I still do. What if someone’s luring him out there to rob him or something?”

“Why jump to the worst scenario possible? Your dad’s a savvy guy. Let’s give him a few days to sort things out. Who knows, this might be a new and happy chapter in his life.”

Derek was not as sanguine as the old man, but for now he was willing to adopt the more positive outlook and pray it came true.

TWENTY

February 15, Accra, Ghana

When the Boeing 767 broke through the morning’s light cloud cover over Accra, Gordon remembered how the savanna scrub dotted the laterite soils of the region, but he realized with surprise, almost shock, that the once uninhabited expanses of land that had surrounded the metropolitan area were now crowded with buildings, roads, and highways. He recognized the University of Ghana campus with its iconic tower on the hill, but not much else. What had happened to the boundary between city and suburb?

Eagerness to see this development from ground level and the anticipation of finally meeting his new woman in person set up a level of excitement Gordon had not even expected himself. Touchdown at 8:15 a.m. was a respectable ten minutes late. With its three terminals, Kotoka Airport was now several-fold larger than when Gordon had last seen it. Terminal 3, the international one, had a glittering, glass façade and modern jetways. It used to be that deplaning was by staircase. Now, in this sealed environment, Gordon missed that first blast of hot, humid air one used to get on emerging from the aircraft—the announcement that yes, you really are in tropical Africa.

Immigration was uneventful, the officer warming to Gordon when he told her he had been in Ghana with the Peace Corps decades ago. As Gordon picked up his luggage, his eagerness grew as he pictured Helena waiting for him outside when he exited.

In the wide arrivals hall, family, friends and chauffeurs waited behind the barrier. Gordon scanned the crowd, his heart beating hard as he searched for Helena’s beautiful face. He knew she was quite tall, and he visualized her in a light, flowery blouse and a pair of slimly fitted slacks—or perhaps a knee-length skirt. He didn’t spot her yet, but there was still quite a distance before he got to the back of the crowd several rows deep. Around him, people hugged and cried out with joy as they reunited with loved ones. Reaching the end of the phalanx, Gordon circled the periphery, checking to see if he and Helena might have missed each other somehow. He still couldn’t find her.