“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 attached 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 t
ogether. 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.
THE STRAIN was getting to her.
Standing on the deck outside the living area, Sydney stared out over the property as the sun set beyond the ocean’s horizon. Kenneth Lord’s property. Kenneth, her late husband, she told herself vehemently. Not that she could prove it.
She didn’t need a premonition to know the lab wouldn’t find her photos. What could have happened to them?
Even Benno doubted her. He hadn’t said as much – he’d been very kind when he’d driven her home – but she had recognized his shift in attitude. Wary. And how could she blame him? She was beginning to doubt herself. Perhaps the stress had finally made her crack.
Thankfully, Martha wasn’t around to worsen the situation. All was quiet, at least temporarily.
As if having to convince herself that she hadn’t imagined it all, she went over the past weeks since she’d left L.A.. Since Kenneth had come into her life.
She replayed their every meeting, recounted their every conversation. She couldn’t recall such detail if it hadn’t happened to her, she assured herself. She remembered Kenneth’s exact words when he proposed, his vows to love and cherish her when they married, his expression of disbelief when he knew he was about to die.
Sydney...
Startled by her whispered name, Sydney froze. An eerie sensation glided through her and for an instant, she felt lifted from her surroundings. It was as if she and Kenneth were together again... suspended, floating, bathed by the mist of the ocean.
Sydney blinked and digested her surroundings. Without realizing what she’d been doing, she had left the safety of the house. As if the siren wind had lured her to the scene of tragedy, she was standing on the cliff, at the very same spot where Kenneth had disappeared.
Wind whipped through her hair and clothes, urging her ever closer to the precipice.
Sydney my love...
The rhythmic swell of the ocean called to her, its sharp salt scent assailing her nose. It was the ocean she heard, wasn’t it? Not Kenneth? Her breath caught in her throat, she cocked her head and listened to its mesmerizing surge.
The sea was forever, she thought.
Water rushed stone, the undercutting process continuing to carve out chunks of nature’s history as it had for centuries. The tide was coming in, its inexorable pull strong, enticing. Knowing she could solve all her problems in one grand gesture, she closed her eyes. And as he had the day of the memorial service when she had the vision, Kenneth waited for her, his arms outstretched.
She could almost see him now... almost touch him.
Sydney, my love, come to me...
His voice or her own mind playing tricks on her?
Her eyes flew open and panic welled in her breast. She flipped around, lunged away from the edge, and in doing so, twisted her ankle. Pebbles skidded underfoot. She felt herself slipping, falling off balance... and for the briefest of moments thought of how easy it would be to let nature take her, too.
“No!”
She caught herself and recoiled from the edge of the cliff. She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t.
What other explanation was there? an insidious voice asked her.
“I don’t know. I don’t know!” she screamed into the ungiving wind.
But she wasn’t ready to take the coward’s way out.
Sydney moved up and away from the scene of the accident toward the stand of trees where she’d shot the film. Light was fading fast and she didn’t really expect to find anything, yet compulsion drove her. The site was free of human reminder, not surprising since the winds assaulted the area so fiercely.
Her gaze swept every direction. Suddenly a chill shot through her and her head went light. Surely not now, she thought. She couldn’t be losing it now. Forcing her mind to stay totally hers, she sought the quickest way home. A short cut crested the rise and would cut through the copse of trees sheltering the house.
Without hesitation, Sydney took off in that direction. Light had faded and the landscape was one of shadows of varying sizes. Round boulders, tall trees. She forced her mind to concentrate on the myriad dark shapes. She wound down through the small forested area. The light of the house shone through the copse. She speeded up, almost running along the rough trail.
A sense of unreality filled her. Shapes became grotesque. Sounds magnified. Every movement became an effort. Her foot met something unyielding. Rigid. Her upper body floated ahead, out of control. She put her hands out as the ground rushed up to meet her.
“Damn,” she cursed as she jolted to a teeth-jarring stop.
Sydney shook her head to clear it and pushed herself onto her hands and knees, but kept fighting the bulk that held her fast. She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to know.
When she cold deny it no longer, she acknowledged the impediment for what it was: a very stiff, very cold, very dead body.
CHAPTER SIX
THREE SETS OF LIGHTS bobbed and wavered as they ascended the hill like banners of a tag team making its way to the house. Three sets of lights; three cars. Sydney had called only the authorities... and Benno.
The hooded fleece sweatshirt she’d pulled on hadn’t chased away the chill that had invaded her vary spirit. Perhaps Benno could. She didn’t understand why he affected her so deeply. She wasn’t a feckless woman to hop from one man to the next so quickly. She only knew he made her feel safe.
In the woods, a dead man awaited them.
She was still shaking, her teeth were still chattering; she wrapped her arms around herself as the cars pulled up the drive.
Benno was the first to exit his vehicle. She rushed to him as Officer Mick Brickman followed right behind. He would be the one to show, she thought dispiritedly, even though he hadn’t taken the call. His attitude was all she needed right now. And last – as she should have expected – was Martha. How could things be worse?
Then Benno’s broad shoulders blocked her view as they surrounded her. Letting out a sigh of relief, Sydney touched her forehead to his beard-stubbled chin. She needed this, his support. She needed him.
“Are you okay?”
“Now I am.” With Benno there, everything would be all right and she would be fine. “Thanks for coming.” She hadn’t been certain he would take anything she said seriously after the photo fiasco.
“So where’s this corpse?” Brickman demanded.
For once, Martha said nothing, merely hung behind the officer and waited.
For what? And why did she seem so nervous?
Sydney pointed to the copse of trees southwest of the house. “Over there.”
“What are we waiting for?” Brickman asked, flicking on his flashlight as he strode off.
Martha moved more quickly than Sydney thought possible for a woman in a too-tight skirt and high, backless heels. “Wait for me, Brick,” she demanded, giving Sydney a sly look as she minced passed. She caught the officer by his upper arm and played the helpless female. “A horrible killer might be lurking in the woods.”
“Not unless he returned to the scene of the crime,” Sydney stated calmly. “The body was already stiff.”
Martha made a choking sound and moved closer to the policeman’s side. Brickman stopped, and with his flashlight, signaled Sydney to take the lead. Benno stayed right beside her, lending her his strength.
“You’re sure you don’t have any idea of who the victim could be?” he asked.
“Not a clue. I told you I didn’t know anyone in this town.” Sydney hesitated, then softly added, “He had to have been the man from my dream.”
Benno didn’t say anything, but the muscles of
the arm that brushed hers tightened. The forested area loomed closer. She grew desperate to make him believe her.
“I assumed the dark-haired man was you because I knew you, not because I saw a face,” she went on. “I told you it was all confused, that one minute I was the hunted, the next a dark-haired man.” Remembering the dried blood on the victim’s shirt front, she swallowed hard. “He was shot twice, once in the stomach, once in the chest, exactly as I dreamed it.”
“What’s that?” Martha asked. “You dreamed this man was murdered and then it actually happened?”
“Something like that,” Sydney mumbled, hurrying on.
“Bri-i-ick.” Martha whispered loudly enough for Sydney to hear. “I don’t think she’s all there, you know what I mean?”
Officer Brickman merely grunted.
Sydney wished she hadn’t said anything, not until later when she could have discussed the situation with Benno alone, but how was she to know Martha had the ears of a cat? She supposed she should have guessed.
As the gap closed between them and the corpse’s resting place, Sydney slowed, felt her feet grow heavy. Her stomach rumbled. Heaven knew there was nothing left to throw up, but she was being threatened once more. She took a deep breath and kept going, wielding the flashlight she’d brought from the house in an arc until the beam caught a glimmer of pale material. The man’s shirt.
Still several yards away, she stopped cold and pointed the beam. “There.”
Brickman and Martha swung by. Benno gave her an intense look before going after them. She couldn’t stand over the victim just yet. Actually, she wished she never had to see the dead man again. And yet his ordinary face frozen in a grimace of fear or pain would be forever burned into her memory.
“Eeehh!”
Sydney jumped at Martha’s scream.
“What the hell?” came Benno’s voice.
“Chrissakes!” Brickman hissed at the same time.
Sydney’s stomach was tied in knots as she slowly approached the others. They were all three staring at her as if she had sprouted horns and a tail. Even Benno. Sydney’s heart beat wildly as she realized how deeply disturbed he was, and not just at seeing a dead man.
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