by Sharon Potts
The three of them left the loading area. Robbie smiled at the security guard without stopping.
He waved.
They kept walking, heads up, arms hanging loose. In the background, sirens screamed. Almost to the gate. Just a little farther and they’d be clear. They picked up their pace.
The sound of a staticky voice came over a walkie-talkie.
“Hey,” the security guard called after them.
The three of them froze. Robbie and Jeremy exchanged a look. Kate was biting her lip. Run or stay?
Jeremy turned back to the guard. “What’s up?”
“Have you seen anyone that doesn’t belong here? A guy with a beard, long hair, jeans, T-shirt?”
Jeremy shook his head. “Why? What happened?”
Robbie wanted to kick him. Let’s go, she said telepathically. Stop making goddamn conversation.
“Not sure,” said the guard.
More static on the walkie-talkie. The guard held it up to his ear.
Kate slipped her arm through Jeremy’s. “Come on,” she said softly.
The three of them started walking away.
“What’s that?” the guard said into the walkie-talkie. “Huh? No. Ain’t seen no one here.”
Robbie, Jeremy, and Kate went through the narrow swinging door in the gate, then continued walking south at a brisk pace, away from the noise of sirens.
“Don’t look back,” Kate said, taking Robbie’s hand. “It’s Sodom.”
And Robbie remembered the story of Lot and his wife led away from the city of Sodom by angels. And how Lot’s wife didn’t listen to the angels. She had glanced back to look at the home she was leaving and became a pillar of salt.
“Don’t worry. We won’t look back.” Robbie squeezed Kate’s hand tighter as they walked. This girl who had called herself Angel. What kind of hell had her sister been living in these last twelve days?
Jeremy stepped into the street and signaled a taxi. It stopped and the three of them climbed into the back.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Jeremy took off his sunglasses and glanced at Robbie. “Coconut Grove?”
Robbie nodded.
Kate leaned back against the seat looking scared. “What’s in Coconut Grove?”
“Sanctuary,” Jeremy said.
Chapter 38
No one spoke during the taxi ride to Jeremy’s grandfather’s house in Coconut Grove. Kate stared out the window, chewing on her finger.
Her sister. But Robbie sensed that now wasn’t the right time to tell Kate. The girl seemed too close to a breaking point. And although Robbie knew she should call her father, it was clear that Kate wasn’t ready to make her presence known to anyone. Robbie would wait until she understood what had happened to Kate and why she was so afraid.
The taxi got off the highway and took a route through dense shrubs and trees that overgrew the sidewalks and shadowed the narrow streets.
“Turn left here,” Jeremy said to the driver. “Second house on the left.”
The taxi stopped in front of a small one-story house that was barely visible behind blooming bougainvillea bushes and drooping palm trees. Robbie remembered the first time she’d come here with Jeremy. How comfortable his grandfather had made her feel, despite his sorrow over his daughter’s recent death.
Jeremy paid the driver and they got out. There were no cars in the driveway. “Looks like no one’s home, but we can go inside. My grandfather won’t mind.” He went to the front steps, reached into a planter and pulled something out. He used the key to unlock the front door.
Kate was standing so close to Robbie that their shoulders touched. She tugged on a strand of blonde hair that had escaped from her baseball cap.
“Let’s go inside,” Robbie said.
Kate hesitated, then followed Robbie up the front steps, through the screened-in porch, and into the house.
Sunlight poured through the windows, falling across hanging baskets of philodendron, the worn sofa, club chairs, ottoman, bookcases, and coffee table covered with family photos. There was a vague smell of dog and Robbie wondered if old Geezer was still alive. In the corner of the room was an upright piano with an old-fashioned clock on the wall above it. The house was happier and better cared for than the first time Robbie had been here. Probably Jeremy’s sister’s touch.
Kate stood in the middle of the living room, feet slightly pigeon-toed, a finger in her mouth.
Jeremy came back from the kitchen with three small bottles of water. He handed one to Robbie, another to Kate. “Would you rather have a Coke or something?” he asked.
Kate seemed surprised by the bottle of water in her hand. “Oh. No, this is fine. Thanks.”
He patted the sofa. “You can sit down.”
She did, on the edge.
Robbie sat next to her. Jeremy continued standing, resting his elbows on the back of one of the club chairs. He had thrown the suit jacket on the piano bench and rolled up his shirtsleeves.
Kate stared at the unopened bottle of water in her hands.
“We need to talk about what happened to you, Kate,” Robbie said.
Kate took off the baseball cap. Her blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders. She didn’t speak.
“Okay,” Robbie said finally. “How about this? We’ll tell you what we know and you can fill in the missing pieces.”
When Kate didn’t respond, Robbie continued. “You and Joanne disappeared a week ago Friday. Your dad came down to Miami to find you.”
Kate widened her eyes. How fake the dark gray looked.
“He’s still in Miami,” Robbie said. “Do you want me to call him?”
Kate shook her head—an emphatic no.
“He’s very worried,” Robbie said.
Kate sucked in her lower lip and looked back down at the water bottle.
“All right then,” Robbie said. “You tell us when you’re ready for him to know.”
Kate mumbled something. It sounded like thank you.
Robbie wanted to tell her to take the gray contact lenses out, but it was clear to her that she’d better not rush things with Kate. She continued in a soft voice. “I imagine you know Joanne’s dead.”
A tear dripped onto Kate’s worn jeans, creating a dark blue spot.
Again, Robbie wondered if Kate was somehow complicit in her friend’s death.
“Her body was found in a canal on Miami Beach last Wednesday.”
“In, in a canal?”
“Yes,” Robbie said. “But the medical examiner said that she’d probably drowned in a swimming pool. Do you know anything about that?”
Another tear stained Kate’s jeans, then another.
Robbie continued talking while Kate stared at her lap. Robbie explained how the receipt in Joanne’s car led her and Jeremy down to Key Largo, and how someone at the tiki bar recalled Kate and Joanne and saw them leaving with two guys. She left out the part about Joanne very likely being raped.
“Can you tell us where those guys took you and what happened?” Robbie asked.
Kate wiped her eyes and put the water bottle down on the coffee table. She picked up one of the photos. It was of Jeremy and his mom, dad, and sister. Kate glanced up at Jeremy, then back at the photo. “So you are cops.”
“No, Kate,” Robbie said. “I told you before. We’re not cops.”
“Then why do you care about this so much?”
Jeremy was massaging his bruised knuckles. He gave Robbie a slight nod.
“When your father came to see me right after you disappeared, there was something else he told me.” It was clear to Robbie that Kate hadn’t seen the Facebook message Robbie had sent her explaining their relationship. “Something I never knew.”
Kate’s body stiffened.
“You and I are half sisters.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Our dad was married to my mother before he married yours.”
Kate shook her head. She hadn’t known.
&n
bsp; “I lived in Deland until I was seven. Then my mom and I moved to Boston after the divorce. I never saw Dad again until he came looking for you. That was the first time I learned about you.”
“You’re my sister?”
“Yes, Kate.”
“But he never told me. Never said a thing about you.”
“I know.”
“How could he not—” Kate’s voice drifted off.
Her expression went from anger to hurt to doubt. She seemed to be taking Robbie in all over again. “Our eyes,” Kate said. “Your eyes are just like mine. And we’re the same size, and—she looked Robbie up and down. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. You are. You really are my sister.”
Robbie reached over then and hugged her. Kate smelled like suntan oil, but there was also a vague, familiar scent coming from her hair. How many times as a child had Robbie looked in the mirror and played with her imaginary sister, braiding her hair, painting her nails?
Oh, Kate, she thought. I’ve finally found you.
When they pulled apart, Robbie noticed that Jeremy hadn’t moved from the club chair. He was staring in the direction of the window and his cheeks were wet, as though he’d been crying.
He caught Robbie’s eyes on him, wiped his face, then walked toward the kitchen. “Anyone want more water or something?”
Robbie shook her head.
Kate was studying Robbie’s hand. “He should have told me.”
“Yes. He should have. But right now, Jeremy’s in a lot of trouble. The police think he killed someone. Anything you could tell us about what happened to you would be a big help.”
Kate looked over at the club chair where Jeremy had been standing. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Not exactly. Maybe. He was. It’s a long story.”
“That’s okay,” Kate said. “He’s a really nice guy.”
Jeremy came back in the room, put a platter of cookies on the coffee table, then sat down on the ottoman. “My grandfather. He always keeps cookies in the house.”
Kate leaned back on the sofa and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Okay.” She folded her fingers together and squeezed them. “Those guys at the tiki bar? Well, I think they drugged us, or something.”
A wave of heat passed over Robbie. So here it came.
“They drove us somewhere. I don’t remember much. Just that everything felt wrong and strange. And then, I remember walking around the house looking for Joanne.”
She stopped talking. The room filled with the sound of white noise, the hum of the air conditioner, the clock ticking over the piano.
“She . . . she was in the pool. And I called her, but she didn’t answer. She . . . she just floated. And I knew. I knew she was—”
Robbie slipped her arm around her. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”
Kate pulled away. “But it was. They told me I killed her. And they, they said they would tell the police if I didn’t do what they said.”
So that was it.
“But you didn’t kill her, Kate,” Robbie said. “Those men drugged her. And then, she probably drowned accidently. But it wasn’t your fault. It was absolutely not your fault.”
Kate got up and went to the window that overlooked the backyard.
“What did they tell you to do?” Jeremy asked.
“They gave me a lot of drugs.” She continued facing the window. Robbie had to strain to hear her. “Then I went to live withTyra. And they said to do what she said or they’d change me back to the way I was and the police would find me.”
“Change you back?” Jeremy asked.
“My face and hair. They said they changed me to protect me. So no one would recognize me.”
“And you believed them?” Jeremy asked.
Kate turned to them. “I don’t know. I was so scared. And Joanne. Poor Joanne. If I hadn’t made her come with me, none of this would have happened. She’d still be alive.”
“They drugged you, Kate,” Robbie said. “They took advantage of you.”
Kate returned to the sofa and folded her hands over her lap.
“So when you moved in with Tyra, what happened?” Jeremy leaned forward on the ottoman, elbows on his knees. “What did she tell you to do?”
“Mostly she gave me pills and I slept a lot. Then at night, we’d go to the club. And we’d bring men home with us.” She looked at her hands. Her knuckles were white. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
“What about during the day?” Jeremy said. “Did any people come by to see Tyra? Was anyone angry?”
“Everyone was always angry.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Well, mainly Tyra and Luis. And then, this morning, this old guy came by.”
“Luis and an old guy?” Jeremy asked. “Who are they?”
“Luis was one of the guys who brought me and Joanne to the house.”
“What does Luis look like?”
“He’s like really built. He shaves his head and has a lot of tattoos.”
“And the old guy?” Jeremy asked.
“He was really creepy looking. You know, like Michael Jackson?”
“How like Michael Jackson?”
“Skinny and his face was fake, like he’d had a lot of work done on it.”
Creepy, like Michael Jackson. Something was gnawing at Robbie.
“And you said they were angry?” Jeremy asked.
“Well, mainly the man was angry. He was yelling at Luis and Tyra. Something about the DVDs. And Tyra got all pissed at him. She said, ‘You don’t tell me what to do, mister. You don’t own me.’ And then the man said, ‘I made you, I own you. And I can just as easily unmake you.’ And Tyra said, ‘You got that backward, mister. I can unmake you.’ ”
Jeremy’s face was alive. “What do you remember about the house in Key Largo?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m jumping around here. The house they took you to after the tiki bar. What do you remember about it?”
“Not much. I slept a lot.”
“Anything,” Jeremy said. “Any little detail.”
Kate scrunched up her forehead. “Lots of windows, like mirrors. A swimming pool inside. Pictures on the wall. Red, blue, green.”
“What was in the pictures?”
“Don’t remember.” She shook her head. “Oh. But there were pebbles. Like millions of pebbles.”
Pebbles, Robbie thought. An indoor swimming pool.
“Anything else?” Jeremy asked.
“It’s really blurry.”
“Do you remember what shoes you wore to the tiki bar that night?” Robbie asked.
“My Cinderella slippers.”
Robbie’s heart lurched. “Can you describe them?”
“White,” Kate said. “White sandals with see-through heels. I remember I lost one of them. Just like Cinderella.”
“Lost it where?”
“In the pebbles. In the pebbles by the jumping red dragon.”
Chapter 39
“What is it?” Jeremy asked her.
Robbie realized she was taking short, quick breaths. “Mike,” she said.
“I know. There’s obviously a connection.”
Robbie shook her head. “I think he believes I’m involved.”
“Involved? What are you talking about?”
“The flyer. The one with Kate’s picture.”
Her sister was looking at her, frightened.
“The flyer had my phone number. And I wrote ‘Call Robbie’ on it.”
“So?” Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck.
“Mike saw the flyer on the bar at the Fieldstone event. He said something about it being my name and number. He knows I’m connected to Kate.”
“Okay. Let’s say he does.”
“I think he broke into my apartment.”
“What? When?”
“Yesterday afternoon. My cat got out and my neighbor saw someone outside my door.”
Kate had brought her knees up to her chest
and hugged them tightly.
“So if Mike was involved with killing Brett and believes you’re somehow able to connect him to Kate—” Jeremy turned toward the sound of the front door opening.
His grandfather stepped into the living room, wisps of white hair floating around his shiny scalp like cotton candy. Beside him, tail wagging, was Geezer, a low, brown shadow.
“Jeremy,” he said, “you gave me a scare. I didn’t see your car in the driveway.”
“Sorry, Grandpa.” Jeremy went to hug his grandfather. He towered over the frail old man.
Robbie could tell by the strain in Jeremy’s face that he was trying hard not to alarm his grandfather. She tried to calm herself, to not think about Mike lurking in her apartment yesterday. What had he planned to do if she’d arrived home while he was still there?
“We took a taxi, and let ourselves in,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Taxi?” Mr. Weiss pulled back, surveying Jeremy. “Your eye. Have you been in a fight?”
“Nothing serious.” Jeremy bent over to scratch the dog behind his floppy ears. “Hey, buddy. How ya doin’?”
His grandfather pushed his thick glasses up on his nose. His scowl lifted. “Robbie, dear.” He extended his arms. “It’s been too long.”
“Yes it has.” Robbie stepped around the coffee table and club chairs to hug him. “Way too long.”
“And this young lady is?” The old man smiled at Kate, who hadn’t gotten up from the sofa.
“This is Kate. My sister.” Robbie got a shiver saying it. My sister.
Mr. Weiss raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. He hadn’t known Robbie had a sister, but Mr. Weiss, an old-time accountant himself, was always scrupulously discreet. “So nice to meet you, Kate.”
“You, too.” Kate’s voice was barely audible as she tugged on her straight blonde hair. Geezer went over to sniff her, but Kate seemed uncertain what to do.
Robbie wondered if they’d done the right thing bringing her here.
“I have a granddaughter about your age,” Mr. Weiss said. “Elise should be home from school any time now.”
