by Lisa Jackson
“Hello, Elizabeth. How’re you doing?”
She clenched her teeth, then forced herself to relax. “Fine. Better. Is that why you called?”
“I suppose it should be.” He sounded kind of sad for him, but she knew better than to believe it. Her father had practically ignored her until he’d thought she was special, then he’d nearly driven her mad with the questions and ideas on how they could make a fortune. She’d done her best to keep from having another episode, however, purposely thwarting him and saving herself in the process. Whenever she’d had one of those crystalline moments that meant impending disaster, she’d shut herself down completely, even to the point of being sent home from school because her teacher thought she’d fallen into a coma.
Her gaze suddenly flew to her daughter and her stomach tightened. Chloe. Was that what was happening to her?
“I didn’t quite believe her at first, but she looks a lot like you and that’s what she says,” her father was saying. “The guy was a private investigator, but it was the girl who wanted your address.”
“What are you saying?” Elizabeth suddenly demanded.
“The girl . . . Raven something. I don’t want to fight with you, Elizabeth, but if they’re coming your way, I think you should know.”
“Who is she?”
“I told you,” he said, annoyed. “She says she’s your half sister.”
Elizabeth froze. She knew nothing about her birth parents. “What are you saying? When did you see this girl?”
“Open your ears. She and the guy came to the house.”
“A private investigator?”
“He had a card that said he was. Joel Rex Kingston.”
“And her name’s what? Raven?”
“I’ll start again,” her father said with forced patience. “This man and girl came to the house. He said he was a private investigator, name of Kingston, gave me his card, but the girl would hardly let him get a word in. She said she was your half sister and that she’s been looking for you, and then she asked for your address.”
Elizabeth’s hand hurt, she was gripping the phone so hard. “Did you? Give her my address?”
“Well, in the end she convinced me.”
“Dad!”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right! You don’t know these people. You don’t know what they’re capable of! You can’t just hand out my address. They could be anybody . . . they could be—”
“What the hell are you afraid of, girl? You don’t like ’em, don’t talk to ’em. All I’m saying is, I believed her. You meet her, I bet you believe her, too. And it’s Ravinia. That’s what it is.”
“How is she my half sister? Who are her parents? Who were mine?” Elizabeth demanded, asking the questions she’d never had the courage to ask when she was younger.
“We adopted you from a lawyer in LA. You know that.”
“But I was from Oregon. Mom said so.”
“Yes . . .” Gaines sounded a little perturbed that she knew as much as she did, but then he bowled her over by adding, “This girl’s from Oregon, too.”
“You shouldn’t have given them my address,” she repeated. A private investigator. Oh, God, what did that mean? “Did you give them my phone number, too?” she challenged. His silence was answer enough. “Did you get their phone number?”
“I told you I got his card.”
“What’s the number?”
Her father rather reluctantly read off an office number and a mobile number.
“Joel Kingston, you said?” she asked tersely.
“That’s what it says on the card.”
“You shouldn’t have given out my address,” she told him again.
“Well, I’m sorry all over the place,” he said tightly. “Guess I’ll be talking to you later.”
Much later. Elizabeth was upset enough not to trust herself to speak. If she did, she might start screaming at him. It was amazing how quickly she’d fallen back into old, bad patterns with him.
A few moments later, he heaved a put-upon sigh and clattered down the phone.
A private investigator? And a girl who looked like her? Good God . . . what if she was the one who’d played the game of deadly tag that had gone so wrong on the freeway with Court? What if she was the one who’d been seen at the hotel in Rosarito Beach, Tres Brisas? What if she was the one who’d sideswiped Gil Dyne’s car and what if... what if... she was the reason all those people were dead?
What if all this was because of her?
Chapter 26
“Chloe,” Elizabeth said aloud, but her daughter was still tuned into the television program, which had back-to-back episodes. “Chloe!”
Chloe jerked to attention and turned to frown at her mother. “What?”
“You said some things the other day. About the old man who drove through the restaurant.”
“He died?” she asked, her eyes round.
“Not the last I heard, but I haven’t turned on the news . . .” Because I didn’t want to see some media person speculating on the woman who’d predicted the crash. “But you also said that you thought . . . we’d killed Daddy . . . and though that’s not true, I want to know why you said it. And why you said, ‘He said he loved you, but I think he did some bad things.’ I thought you meant Daddy, but now I don’t know.” Elizabeth was rambling. Doing exactly what she’d warned herself not to do, asking question after question. Fear seemed to have a grip on her tongue, making it wag and wag and wag.
Chloe stared at her with that frown on her face that Elizabeth knew meant she was concentrating very hard. “It’s not Daddy. He’s somebody else that I sometimes hear.”
Elizabeth expelled a pent-up breath. “Where do you hear him?” She felt chilled as she shot a fearful look down the hall toward the front door. She wanted to shut all the blinds, sweep Chloe up, run to the bedroom, and hide under the covers.
Solemnly, Chloe pointed to her head and Elizabeth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’d meant where as in what locality, like at school or at the house. “You hear him in your head?”
“I think he wants to talk to you.” One of the bees found a clue to their missing friend and was buzzing in figure eights on the screen. Chloe’s attention was divided and she went immediately back to watching the program.
It was all Elizabeth could do to keep from switching off the television and dragging Chloe’s attention back, but she knew it wouldn’t work. She didn’t know what to make of what Chloe said, but she had other issues to worry about. A half sister . . . or charlatan? Coming her way? She’d always known she was adopted, but she’d also gotten the impression from her mother that both of her birth parents were dead and there were no siblings. Whoever this Ravinia was, she was a fraud . . . or worse.
Ravinia could scarcely contain herself on the drive back from Dana Point, but the closer they got to Costa Mesa and Irvine, the slower Rex seemed to be driving. “What’s the problem?” she demanded.
“What’s your plan upon meeting your cousin? You’re not going to call her your sister.”
“I don’t know. I want to be more important than a cousin so she’ll listen to me.”
“It’s still a lie, and people don’t like to be lied to. It doesn’t exactly inspire trust, and you need her to trust you or she’ll slam the door in your face.”
“I’ll just keep going back,” Ravinia said stubbornly.
“Until she calls the police and you’re arrested for stalking.”
“Okay, I’ll tell her I’m her cousin,” Ravinia snapped.
“Let’s think on this a bit.”
“To hell with that. I want you to take me right to her house.”
“When are you going to tell your aunt Catherine that you’ve found her?”
“When I actually find her.” Ravinia glared at him. “What’s going on with you?”
He shook his head. Meeting Lendel Gaines and listening to the words beneath the words, he’d recognized there was a deep
divide between him and his daughter, a chasm. He had a feeling if they just barged in on Elizabeth Gaines Ellis, their reception would be unwelcome to the extreme.
Chloe moved from the television to playing in her room. Hearing different voices from within, Elizabeth pressed an ear to the panels of the bedroom door but realized that Chloe was just play-acting several parts.
Elizabeth returned to the kitchen and finished her salad, still thinking about how she wanted to approach her daughter when a call came through. Sweeping up her cell phone, she saw it was Tara. She tucked it against her shoulder, a precarious position as she rinsed off the end of the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. “Hello, there,” Elizabeth answered.
“Elizabeth, don’t freak out, but everyone wants to talk to you about what happened last night,” Tara said.
“Oh, God. Please, don’t make this a bigger deal than it is.” She slammed the dishwasher door closed and switched it on.
“You knew. How did you know?”
“I can’t really talk tonight.”
“We want to see you. Please. We’re all going out for drinks tonight and want you to join us.”
“Tara . . . I’m in for the night. We just finished dinner and Chloe’s beat.”
“No, I’m not!” Chloe suddenly appeared in the kitchen, having burst out of her room when she heard Elizabeth’s cell ringing. “Is Bibi there? Are we going somewhere?”
“No,” Elizabeth told her. Into the phone, she said, “I’ve been out too many nights and it’s time to stay home.”
“Nooooo!” Chloe wailed.
“Chloe, go to your room,” she told her daughter.
“How about we come to your house?” Tara said after a beat.
“No, no. Really.” Elizabeth forced out a half-laugh. Keep it light. Keep it light.
“Have you seen the news?” Tara suddenly asked soberly.
Elizabeth tensed, sensing where this was going as Chloe trudged away on leaden feet. “Um . . . do I even want to?”
“They’re talking about a woman who raced in and saved a little boy and his family from the car that smashed into Uncle Vito’s. Everybody wants to know who you are.”
Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She wanted to deny everything, but Tara had been there. Instead, she offered her same, lame excuse. “I just saw it happening.”
“From Lots Of Beef?” Tara’s tone said, I don’t think so. “I talked to Jade. She’s always said you knew Little Nate was going to fall, but you couldn’t have seen it. I’m thinking you did see it, somehow, even though you couldn’t have.”
“Sounds like you all think I’m some kind of freak,” Elizabeth said, her voice catching.
“Good God, no. We all love you, but what the hell’s going on? GoodGuy . . . and . . . Court . . .”
“You think I had something to do with . . . that?” she finished as Chloe was still within earshot, moving away by degrees.
“No. None of us think that. God, no! You couldn’t hurt a fly. But . . . something really weird is going on. You gotta admit that. Vivian was saying she really wants you to go to another meeting of that group, Sisterhood, and—”
“I’m not going back.” Elizabeth cut her off. “It wasn’t right for me.”
“Okay. All right. Fine. Don’t go. If it’s not right, it’s not right. But come out with us tonight. Talk to us. We’re your friends. Vivian’s got Deirdre’s nanny all set up at her house. We won’t be late, and it’s just us girls. No husbands.”
“Where’s Bill? If Vivian’s taking the kids . . .”
Hearing capitulation in her mother’s voice, Chloe returned in a flash, gazing at her with pleading eyes and clapping her hands together as if praying.
“He’s out of town on business or something.”
“Why does it feel like you guys are setting me up for an intervention?” Elizabeth asked, only half-joking.
“No intervention. Just drinks and friendship. And if you want to talk . . . we’re listening. Jade said you confided in her about a few things, but she didn’t say what.”
“Well, Jade told me to keep my thoughts to myself or people might think I’m crazy, in so many words.”
“You’re my best friend,” Tara said. “Come out with us.”
Chloe was practically hanging on Elizabeth’s leg, trying to listen in. “Am I going to Bibi’s?” she asked eagerly.
“Bibi’s going to be at Lissa’s,” Elizabeth said reluctantly.
“Then I want to go there. Please, please, please!!!”
“One hour,” Elizabeth said into the phone, caving.
“Meet at Vivian’s and we’ll go in my car,” Tara said quickly as if she expected Elizabeth to change her mind.
“The last I heard, you don’t even like Lissa,” Elizabeth reminded her daughter once she was off the phone.
“Oh, she’s okay,” Chloe said brightly.
“I’ll go,” Elizabeth told her. “But then I want to talk to you about the voice you’re hearing.
“I already told you everything,” Chloe whined.
“Then tell it to me again. After Lissa’s house.” Seeing that Chloe wanted to get herself worked up again, Elizabeth said, “Deal?” She held out her hand.
After a moment, Chloe grudgingly shook it. “Deal.”
Ravinia wasn’t sure what to make of Rex’s sudden reluctance to find Elizabeth. She was so close, and all of a sudden he was making excuses. Well, okay, maybe she could use a better plan, but they’d stopped at an In-N-Out and ordered burgers and Rex had spent the better part of the time on the phone to someone who wanted him to do some kind of background check on the woman who was marrying his son. Sounded like the guy had a lot of money and didn’t trust the woman’s motives.
Her cell phone rang in the midst of this and Ravinia was so surprised, she dragged the sleeve of her shirt through her teeny tub of catsup trying to pull it from her pocket. It had to be Aunt Catherine. “Hello?”
“Ravinia, it’s Ophelia.”
“Oh, hi. Is something wrong? Where’s Aunt Catherine?”
“She’s here. She wanted me to call you and find out how you’re doing.”
“Why isn’t she talking to me?”
“She’s making dinner with Isadora.”
And she’s a little uncomfortable with the cell phone. Ravinia glanced through the glass doors of the restaurant to the outside where Rex was pacing around, talking on his mobile phone. “I know where Elizabeth is.” She then told her sister how she and Rex had found Ralph Lendel Gaines and had just come from interviewing him. She finished with, “I want to go there now, but Rex is on the phone and I don’t know . . .”
“Rex is the private investigator?” Ophelia asked dubiously.
“Yes. Rex doesn’t want to just barge in on her. Her husband died just a week or so ago.” Hearing her own words ringing in her ears made Ravinia realize Rex was may be right to think things through as Elizabeth might not be in any frame of mind to meet her cousin on the heels of his death.
“Her husband died?”
“In a car accident.” With another woman, apparently.
“Aunt Catherine will be glad to know she’s all right.”
“So far. I haven’t met her yet.”
“Call when you have.”
“Ophelia,” Ravinia said, sensing her sister was about to hang up.
“Yes?” She sounded somewhat impatient.
“When Elizabeth was a little girl, she predicted a footbridge collapse. We’ve heard it a couple times, from several different people. Do you think . . . does it sound like she sees things maybe like Cassandra does?”
After a pause, Ophelia said maddeningly, “Anything’s possible, I suppose.”
“Do you think he knows about her? Declan Jr.? And I know this is going to sound weird, but I’m picking up something, too.”
“What do you mean?” Ophelia asked sharply.
Ravinia thought back to the voice that seemed to be trying to reach her and a shiver slid down her bac
k. “I don’t know. It’s just weird.”
“You’ve got this cell number now, right? After you meet her, call me. I’ll put Aunt Catherine on now.”
“What if it’s late?”
“We don’t care.”
“Okay.” Ravinia talked with her aunt a few minutes, hanging up just as Rex appeared to be finishing his calls and coming back into the restaurant.
At the Barefoot Bar once again, Elizabeth’s friends questioned her and questioned her, trying to make it all seem light and airy when their faces were full of worry and concern. Elizabeth understood. If she were in their shoes, and hadn’t been the one experiencing these strange events, she would have probably felt the same. But no matter how many questions they asked her, she had no answers for them. She didn’t understand her ability, either. It just was, and though she’d fought it down for years with her own iron will, it never went away, evidenced by what had occurred at Uncle Vito’s.
They were all there—Tara, Vivian, Deirdre, Jade and Nadia. Tara was the one who initiated most of the queries. Jade, knowing how reluctant Elizabeth was in even admitting anything unusual had happened with Little Nate, ran a little bit of interference for her. Deirdre boldly asked her if she really wanted them to believe she was clairvoyant, making it clear she, of all of them, thought the whole thing was a crock. Vivian tried to change the subject, patently uncomfortable with the idea. Nadia seemed to be reserving judgment, though she did show Elizabeth a news item that ran on one of the more salacious local television stations where the reporter pleaded with the mystery savior to show herself and let the world thank her for her heroic efforts.
Elizabeth realized two things from the evening. One, her friends were not going to be able to keep her secret for long, if they hadn’t given it away already, and two, their friendship with her had taken an unexpected turn, maybe not for the better.
With exhaustion coming on like a drowning wave, Elizabeth finally had enough and asked Tara to drive her back to Vivian’s to pick up her car and Chloe. Deirdre tried to talk everyone into staying, but no one really wanted to.
