“I CAN’T BE SURE who is in danger – you, me, or someone else entirely,” Sydney was saying over lunch at The Sugar Bowl, a restaurant at the north end of town.
“Dreaming about death isn’t so unusual under the circumstances.” Benno glanced out the window across the beach to The Sugar Loaf, the largest of a dozen sea stacks dotting the shallows – the one that reminded him of death every time he saw it. “Nor is the fact that you dreamed about a man.”
“I can see your point, but I hope you can see mine.”
He’d been listening with mixed feelings, a combination of alarm and disbelief. “What? That I should take this warning seriously?”
“Yes,” she said, the single word filled with frustration. “A few weeks ago, I dreamed I was drowning–”
”Among being caught up in myriad other dangers,” Benno quickly reminded her. Picking up the second half of his grilled chicken sandwich, he noticed she hadn’t eaten a thing. “You really ought to try something. The food here is great.”
She ignored the suggestion. “But I wasn’t the one who drowned.”
“Ergo, you won’t be the one shot.”
She nodded. “That’s entirely possible. You think I’m crazy.”
“Only in the nicest of ways. Remember the premonition you had about your brother – you were sure he was the one in trouble. Why the doubts now?”
“Maybe I used to be more certain because I was more open then. Psychic abilities aren’t as straightforward as real life, Benno. Maybe if I’d been encouraged to work with professionals and develop my potential, I could give you all the answers... but I wasn’t, and God knows I can only give you more questions.”
Sydney’s face was pale beneath her California tan. In the strong light of day, the freckles on her snub nose stood out, giving her a childlike innocence that belied the grown-up hell she was going through. Tension oozed from her and Benno knew she believed every word of what she was saying.
“This ability has made me nothing but unhappy and that’s why I’ve suppressed it for so long,” she went on. “But the dream invaded my peace whether or not I wanted it, and I just can’t let it go at that. Not after what happened to Kenneth. Do you understand?”
“I truly don’t know what to say.”
“Say you believe me at least on some level. Promise you’ll be extra careful. When I tried to figure out who the dark-haired man could be–”
“You thought of me,” Benno concluded. “Can’t say I’m flattered.”
Although perhaps he should be, considering she’d thought of him at all. Despite his own common sense, his attraction to Sydney was growing. And the fact that she cared enough to be worried about him made it even more difficult to remember that Sydney was the widow of his friend. She was going through a tough time – he couldn’t take advantage of her trust.
“At least try one of these curly fries,” he insisted to take his mind off temptation. “They’re rolled in spices and fried in peanut oil.”
“Try to take this seriously.”
Caught by the urgency in her eyes, Benno was chilled. A connection sparked between them like a live current and he could feel the depth of her anxiety. He couldn’t look away. She truly believed he was in danger of some sort – being shot? – and how was he to know she wasn’t wrong. He had enemies. Or rather one very powerful enemy who intimated fate had worked its justice on Kenneth.
Fate or Parnell Anderson?
Not that again. Kenneth’s death had been an accident, one Sydney had witnessed.
Uncomfortable, Benno tore his gaze away from Sydney and signaled their waitress. “More coffee?”
The woman nodded and went for the pot.
“Well?” Sydney asked, obviously still waiting for an answer.
“I’ll be careful.”
Her lids lowered and she took a shaky breath. “Thank goodness.”
“Now are you going to eat or what?”
Sydney chowed down as if she were starving. Indeed, she could use a couple of extra pounds to fill out the hollows, Benno thought. She looked delicate, vulnerable at times, but he’d felt flickers of her iron will more than once in the past two days. She was merely in a bad situation, one that could only get better as soon as they picked up those pictures. He checked his watch as the waitress refilled his cup. Quarter after three. Less than an hour to go.
Benno kept Sydney busy talking about her advertising career until it was time to leave. She seemed grateful for the switch to a safer topic.
But a few minutes before four, as they walked the several blocks to Stone Beach Photos, he sensed her renewed nerves.
“I’ll be glad when this is over,” Sydney said. “Then Martha will get off my back.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Has she always been so unlikable?”
“Around me, she has, especially so in her brother’s absence.”
“I guess she was different with Kenneth.”
“She usually knew how to wrap him around her little finger,” Benno admitted. “Sometimes, her true colors slipped through the cracks, but Kenneth was always too easy on her. He felt guilty that he’d had his parents until he was grown but she was deprived at an early age.”
“And so he took over.”
“And made excuses for her. And kept control of her trust fund.” Benno spotted the white Porsche before Sydney did. “Speaking of the devil, you have an audience for the unveiling.”
Outside the photo shop, Martha was leaning back against her car door and Brickman was pressed near close enough to dance, Benno thought. Now what was going on between those two? Brickman was as far away from Martha’s type as a man could get. Could she be playing him to her own advantage?
“Isn’t this a coincidence, running into you here?” Benno said as they approached the Porsche.
“Yes, isn’t it?” Martha replied, not even trying to hide her contempt for the both of them. She flicked her eyes away as if looking at them would contaminate her. “I was just telling Brick how I needed to buy some film, wasn’t I?”
Brickman laughed softly. “Right.”
“I didn’t realize you were smart enough to use a camera.”
With that, Benno swept Sydney right by the couple, but he could feel them fast on his heels. Luckily, the store itself was empty and they wouldn’t have to listen to Martha’s poisoned tongue for long.
As they crossed to the counter, Donald looked up from where he was setting out new stock. “I’ll get your order right away.” He immediately went to the small bin holding several packets and pulled Sydney’s free.
Her hands weren’t as steady as they might have been when she opened the envelope and pulled out the photos. Benno inserted himself as a barrier between her and Martha who anxiously waited a few yards away, Brickman at her side. Sydney’s brow creased as she looked at one photo, then the next. She held them out to show Donald.
“These aren’t mine.”
The clerk picked up the envelope and checked the written information. “It’s your roll. Take a gander. Here’s your name – right?”
“But the photographs aren’t of anything I shot.” She gave Benno a pleading look.
He took the stack from her and quickly shuffled through them. Tourist pictures of the Stone Beach area, every one, and no people posing to identify the taker. No shots of Kenneth or of Sydney.
“I told you she was an imposter,” Martha said, her voice rising to an hysterical note.
Sydney pleaded, “Maybe the rolls were mixed up at the lab.”
“This is your name,” Donald argued.
“That doesn’t mean the wrong pictures couldn’t have been put in my envelope.”
“Brick, arrest this imposter.” Martha’s frenzy was now augmented by a choked sound that made it appear she was close to tears. “You have all the proof you need.”
“Do you have other orders that came in the same shipment?” Benno asked Donald.
The clerk quickly checked a list at
tached to the bin. “Nine came in this afternoon. Only three others left for pick up.”
“Let’s open them and see what we find,” Benno suggested.
But checking proved fruitless. Nowhere did they find a single photo that Sydney professed to recognize.
“And if my other customers got the wrong order, I would have heard by now.”
“Unless they didn’t take the time to look yet,” Sydney said hopefully.
Benno placed a hand on her shoulder. “If there was a mix-up at the lab, the photos might even have been switched with those from another store.”
The theory was unlikely, but he didn’t know what else to believe.
“I’ll call the lab,” Donald said. “I’m sure we’ll hear by tomorrow if there’s anything to your theory.”
“No!” Martha shouted. “Tomorrow’s too late. Brick, arrest her now.”
“I can wait until tomorrow.” Brickman rushed Martha off, softly saying, “Besides which, I need more than missing photos to build a case. I can’t go on your word alone. I have to find proof of malfeasance.”
As they left the store, Martha gave him a look half-pleading, half-searing and wheedled, “I have the utmost faith in you, Brick.”
Benno wished he could say the same for Sydney. He would have been on her side if for no other reason than to oppose Martha. But now he couldn’t help having some doubts of his own. Sydney had come up with no proof of being Kenneth’s wife – no witness, no marriage license, no pictures.
All coincidences?
How could he be sure any part of her story was true? No one else saw Kenneth Lord fall; no one found his body.
Benno added together all the strange things that had happened or that Sydney had told him about since he’d met her. She’d heard Kenneth’s voice on the foggy beach. She’d claimed to have found and then lost a wedding ring she’d thrown out to sea at the memorial service. And she’d almost been the victim of yet another mysterious accident when he’d found her out on the deck. Kenneth supposedly had come to her then. He’d sworn she was confused, her thoughts clouded by some kind of tranquilizer, but she had denied taking anything.
Now she was adamant about that damn dream. Would disaster befall him next? And if so, would Sydney herself be the one to bring about a second tragedy?
Benno studied her forlorn, slightly panicky expression. Her slight body was rigid as if she were barely holding herself together. He didn’t think she was playacting. He was certain she believed everything she had told him -- about Kenneth, about herself, about the premonitions. But the pieces weren’t falling together.
So what in the hell was going on?
Only one explanation came to mind, Benno thought sadly.
If Sydney had been telling what she saw as the truth all along, perhaps she was losing her grip on reality.
Pushed to the Limit (Quid Pro Quo 1) Page 17
