“Who’s out there?” Chloe demanded.
“I told you, I don’t know them. They’re strangers.”
“They’re loud!”
“They sure are.”
“Why don’t you let them in?”
“Because they’re strangers.”
“She said she was your cousin.”
“Yeah, well, she lied.” Elizabeth leaned over Chloe’s bed and straightened the cover.
“Why would she lie?”
“Beats me.”
“I want to meet her!”
“Don’t be silly, we don’t even know her.”
“Lissa has cousins. Lots of ’em and so does Bibi,” Chloe argued.
“Well, great. Lucky for them.” When Chloe remained obstinate, Elizabeth added, “I don’t know that she’s my cousin. Just because she says she is, doesn’t make it true. This could all be a ruse.”
Chloe scowled up at her. “What’s a rube?”
“A ruse,” Elizabeth corrected. “It’s like a fake.”
“Why would anyone say they were a fake cousin?”
“Chloe . . .”
“You don’t want to have a cousin,” Chloe wailed, scooting away when Elizabeth reached for her. She tossed her blanket aside and sprinted to the front door.
“Wait!” Elizabeth yelled. She charged forward but caught a foot in the blanket and nearly fell over.
Just that moment’s delay was enough and suddenly Chloe was unlocking the door and throwing it open. “Hi,” she yelled. “Come back!”
“Chloe!” Elizabeth caught up with her and saw Kingston and Ravinia had started off the porch. But the girl was lightning fast, and she swept back before Elizabeth could get Chloe out of the way.
“Hey,” Ravinia said to Chloe.
“Are you my cousin, too?”
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said at the same time. “My daughter should never have opened the door.”
“Why?” her daughter demanded.
“If you don’t leave, I’ll . . . call the police,” Elizabeth said.
“Good idea,” Kingston said, coming up behind Ravinia. “Give them my name. I used to work on the force.” His gaze was level and she believed him. Something about him suggested he’d been a cop, maybe his stance or forcefulness. “Call Barney O’Callaghan or Mike Tatum. Detectives.”
The last thing she needed was to get involved with any more detectives. He’d called her bluff.
“You want to come in?” Chloe invited.
“Only if your mom says it’s okay,” Kingston told her.
“It’s not okay,” Elizabeth said, but she heard the weakening in her own voice.
“How about you talk to Ravinia,” Kingston suggested. “I’ll stay outside.”
Ravinia shot him a look, and he held up his hands. “I’ve done the job you hired me for. To find Elizabeth Gaines.”
She looked from Chloe to Elizabeth. “I know about the bridge falling down. And I might be able to help explain why you knew about it. . . .”
Elizabeth held tight to Chloe, then slowly opened the door.
Chapter 28
Ravinia looked into Elizabeth’s heart. Yes, she was the right person, and yes, she was a good person. Also, she was scared as hell.
“You can come in,” Elizabeth said. “Only you. Before I let you into my house, though, you won’t mind proving to me that you don’t have a gun or a knife or any other kind of weapon. Right? And, just so we’re clear, until I’m certain you’re not here to sell me a bill of goods or something worse, I’ll keep my phone in my hand, nine-one-one keyed up and ready to go should I need to call for help.”
“Okay.” Ravinia was there to warn Elizabeth, to help her, not to harm her. It kind of pissed Ravinia off that Elizabeth couldn’t figure that out or sense it some way, but whatever it took to get through the door. Turning her pockets inside out, she cocked her head at an angle and silently asked Elizabeth if that was enough.
For her part, Elizabeth seemed somewhat mollified, if not convinced, and moved out of the way. She glanced back toward Rex for a moment, then closed the door and locked it once Ravinia was inside.
“Come see my room!” Chloe insisted.
“No, honey,” Elizabeth countered. “This lady is here on business.”
Lady . . . Ravinia felt her lips twitch. Never in her life had she considered herself a “lady,” though Aunt Catherine had certainly tried her hardest in that regard.
“Nooo,” Chloe wailed and grabbed Ravinia’s hand, pulling her down a short hall as Elizabeth muttered something like, “Give me strength,” under her breath.
Ravinia restrained herself from looking into the little girl’s heart; she didn’t want to scare Chloe, who was an ally. With Elizabeth half a step behind, Ravinia allowed herself to be dragged along. Chloe took her into a room decorated in bright tropical colors. Toys were overflowing from a basket, blocks and books were stacked in a corner, a few dolls were scattered across the floor, and stuffed animals spilled off the small bed. The white furniture all matched—a dresser, bookcase, and twin bed.
A perfect little girl’s room . . . glaringly different from the home in which Ravinia had been raised. She couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t shared a bedroom with at least one of her sisters on the upper floors of the lodge. There had been few toys, and the books they’d read had come from the Deception Bay library, courtesy of Aunt Catherine. Handmade curtains and a patchwork quilt that Ravinia’s aunt had pieced from calico and gingham scraps left over from the dresses she’d sewn adorned the windows and beds.
“Are you really Mommy’s cousin?” Chloe asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Do you like Busy Bees and Friends?” she asked as she showed off her most prized possessions, a doll that looked like a pirate and a once-white, stuffed, lop-eared bunny that was missing an eye.
“I don’t know them,” Ravinia said, aware that Elizabeth was watching carefully from the doorway.
“Her favorite television show,” Elizabeth explained. Then to her daughter, “Okay, back to bed.”
“No,” Chloe said.
But Elizabeth was firm. “It’s late. Ravinia came here to talk to me.”
“Will she be here when I wake up?” Chloe demanded, scowling over a yawn.
“We’ll see,” Elizabeth said, walking into the room. “Come on. Take Henry and Clover with you.”
Reluctantly Chloe climbed into the bed with her favorite toys. “That means no,” she revealed as she snuggled under the covers. “Just like when you tell me we’ll see about a dog.”
“If I’m not here, I’ll come back,” Ravinia told her and felt the weight of Elizabeth’s stare. If I’m allowed by your mother and if it’s still safe, she silently added.
“Promise?”
“Yes,” Ravinia said.
Though Chloe still seemed doubtful, she was just too tired to argue and allowed Elizabeth to tuck her in and leave a night-light on before ushering Ravinia out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
“Just let me get my robe,” Elizabeth said and was through another door and back again in fifteen seconds as if she were certain Ravinia might rob her or try to kidnap her child if she weren’t watching her like a hawk. “Okay, this way.” Elizabeth shrugged into a thin robe and cinched the belt as she led the way. Once they were in the kitchen area, she leveled her gaze at Ravinia again. “What do you know about the falling bridge?”
Rex sat in the Nissan and gazed at the house where Elizabeth Gaines lived with her daughter. His job was finished, but he didn’t want to leave. His mind was on the elusive, harried woman he’d seen for a few brief moments. She was tough, he thought, or tried to be, protective of her daughter, but mostly she was scared out of her mind. It didn’t take Ravinia’s “gift” to see that.
Something was making Elizabeth very, very afraid though she was trying like hell to hide it.
What?
He was certain she was Ravinia’s long-lost relative. The family re
semblance was strong. High cheekbones, arched eyebrows, blond hair, and pointed chin. Elizabeth’s eyes appeared to be blue, though, he suspected they might change with the light. Similar to Ravinia’s. Something else seemed to connect them, too. Something beyond the physical.
Shit, Kingston, now you’re sounding as crazy as Ravinia.
Not that it mattered why Elizabeth was scared. His part in the bizarre escapade was over. He could probably go home and leave Ravinia to her own devices, but still he sat in his car, parked a block and a half down from the Ellis house. He’d chosen the area because it was in the shadows, away from the vaporous illumination cast by street lamps.
When he and Ravinia had first arrived, they’d found that Elizabeth wasn’t home. Ravinia had insisted on waiting and he’d gone along with it, telling himself that it was just best to get this investigation behind him. While they’d waited, a police cruiser had come by several times and he’d realized he wasn’t the only one watching the Ellis home. A female officer had stepped out and knocked, then when no one answered, she’d gotten back in her cruiser and circled the block. Rex had been forced to move his car, regardless of how much Ravinia squawked; he didn’t want to be questioned unnecessarily. Then Elizabeth had returned and the woman cop had gone to her door and inside. Rex had wanted to ask Elizabeth what that was all about, but she was too skittish. He was surprised, really, that Ravinia had found her way past the door at all.
His natural curiosity was aroused by all of it, and though he should just drop the whole thing from his head, collect his fee, and move on, he couldn’t quite make himself. Seeing Elizabeth Gaines Ellis in the flesh had also woken something inside him. He could feel it, and it kind of pissed him off. What the hell was that about?
God help him, he couldn’t be interested in her.
“Christ,” he muttered, frustrated. Still, while Ravinia was inside the house and probably telling Elizabeth her fantastical story—and how was Elizabeth going to react to the tale of young women dressed as if they belonged to a previous century by a loving but frightened matriarch who suppressed their natural gifts of ESP and kept them safe from the outside world and maniacal half brothers?—he reached for his iPad, glad he’d taken the time to charge it, and did some research on Elizabeth, looking into her life, her job at Suncrest Realty and as much as he could learn about her late husband, Courtland Ellis.
Elizabeth braced herself and listened in silence to the story that unfolded from the girl.
Ravinia began with, “You probably have an ability to see things before they happen. You saw the bridge collapse.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I’ve met some people from your past, Beth Harper and Bernice Kampfe. They wanted me to let them know how you’re doing. I think they were worried about you, too.”
Beth Harper and Bernice Kampfe . . . Elizabeth felt unexpected tears suddenly burn behind her eyes. People who were always nice to her. There had been so few when she was growing up.
“My Aunt Catherine is your mother,” Ravinia went on. “She gave you away when you were a baby because . . . well, it’s a really long story, but she didn’t think you’d be safe if she didn’t give you up.”
Elizabeth folded her hands, her pulse running fast. Her biological mother. The thought pulled at her heartstrings and she reminded herself that she was vulnerable, that she had to tread carefully in these dangerous emotional waters. Don’t believe this. It’s a ploy, and a damn good one.
Ravinia went on, telling her of the lodge where she’d grown up with her sisters, Elizabeth’s cousins, of which there were many, apparently. When she got to the gifts each of them possessed, Elizabeth felt herself pull back. No. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t.
But she did. Breaking her silence, she asked, “What’s your gift?”
Dead serious, Ravinia answered, “I can look into a person’s heart and see if they’re good or bad.”
“Really.”
“You don’t believe me, but I looked into your heart at the door. You’re a good person. Just scared.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to say that what Ravinia was suggesting was impossible, but she remembered the heat that had suffused her, the sense that something had gone through her.
She was starting to believe there was something . . . a connection to the lodge called Siren Song, a link that sent a cold sliver of fear through her.
“You don’t need to be scared of me,” Ravinia said, reading her.
“I’m not.” But it was a lie, and they both knew it. Elizabeth, nerves shot, grabbed a glass from a cabinet, filled it with water from the tap and glanced over her shoulder at Ravinia. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, thanks.”
Fair enough. Elizabeth took a long swallow, thinking she could really use a glass of wine, firmly convinced that would be a really bad idea about now. She needed her wits about her. Silently counting to ten, she said, “Can you start at the beginning? I feel like I’ve just walked into the third act.”
“Sure.” Ravinia started again, launching into a tale that was as outlandish as it was intriguing about her promiscuous mother, Mary, and the woman’s dedicated, and strict but loving, sister Catherine who had taken over the brood of women who inhabited the gated compound called Siren Song. The children were raised away from the world, locked away from modern civilization. Catherine eventually banished Ravinia’s mother to a solitary island because her liaisons with all kinds of men brought danger to her children.
A last, and current, deadly threat had caused Catherine to send Ravinia to find Elizabeth and warn her of the danger.
“That’s why I’m here,” Ravinia finished simply. “To warn you.”
“What danger is it, that I should look out for?” Elizabeth asked cautiously. She didn’t know how much she believed of the tale, but there was no denying strange things were going on in her life.
“Declan Jr., for one.” For the first time Ravinia sounded unsure. “He could be looking for you, if he knows about you yet.”
He said he loved you, but I think he’s done bad things.
“He’s another of my cousins.”
Elizabeth finished her water and set the empty glass in the sink. Her headache was still there, but had receded to a dull ache in the back of her head. A part of her wanted to trust Ravinia, to find an explanation, even a partial explanation, for the horrendously weird happenings that surrounded her, especially the deaths that had occurred. Maybe there was a connection . . . but then again, really? And if she bought into part of the girl’s story, wouldn’t she have to swallow the entire unbelievable tale?
“I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Have you seen other things? Besides the bridge?” Ravinia asked her.
Elizabeth half-laughed. “Do you watch the news?”
“No. Why?”
“Never mind. I . . . thank you. For warning me—”
“You don’t believe me.” Ravinia cut her off, affronted.
“I see that you believe it, and I’m not saying you’re lying, but I can’t—I have a life here. A suburban life.” Elizabeth spread her arms. “I’m a normal person, and Chloe and I have just been going through some bad times.”
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head, though she felt her pulse pounding a bit, adrenaline flowing through her blood, a new fear darkening her heart. “Let’s leave it at I don’t disbelieve you.”
“Something’s happened,” Ravinia suddenly guessed. “That’s why you’re afraid. What is it? I can help.”
“Nope, nope. I’m fine. Why don’t you leave me . . . Catherine’s number . . . and I’ll call her.”
“It’s really Ophelia’s number. She has a cell,” Ravinia said, her lips turning downward. “There isn’t a phone at the lodge.”
Elizabeth remembered that Ophelia was one of the cousins Ravinia had named. “Fine. I’ll try calling her, later.”
“Do you have paper and pen?”
Elizabeth searched through her junk drawer and discovered both, handing them to Ravinia who scribbled down a number. Then, she added a second number and wrote down her name. Ravinia Rutledge. “My cell,” she said. “In case you need me or want to talk. I’m going to buy some more minutes, so if you call and can’t get through, just try again.” She started to hand the slip of paper to Elizabeth, then pulled it back and added another number. “This is the number of the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department. Ask for Detective Savannah Dunbar. She can verify everything I’ve told you.” Ravinia handed the slip of paper over and said again, “You do need to call me.”
Elizabeth just nodded, too tired to come up with some clever remark about Ravinia not really needing a phone since she could probably “sense” when someone wanted to talk to her, but she kept that to herself.
It felt like she had to finesse the girl out the door and onto the porch. Just as she was about to shut it, Chloe came bouncing out of her room.
“What are you doing up?” Elizabeth asked her sharply.
Chloe ignored her as she waved to Ravinia, then asked, “Is that your dog?”
Elizabeth looked outside as a shadow passed across Ravinia and a gust of wind rattled the leaves in the trees at the edge of the lawn.
Standing in the doorway, one arm wrapped around Elizabeth’s leg, Chloe pointed with her free hand, her index finger aimed at a copse of trees on the far side of the house across the street. “The big one. With the shaggy fur and yellow eyes.”
Ravinia whipped around to see where she was pointing and Elizabeth said, “There’s no dog.”
“Yes, there is. He was right there!” Chloe insisted, frowning as she eyed Ravinia. “Right there. And you saw him, too.”
Chapter 29
The door to the house shut firmly behind her and Ravinia immediately turned to watch the wolf slinking through the shadows, hiding between two houses in the middle of suburban Southern California. “What are you doing here?” she whispered. This was no place for him. There were too many people, too many lights, too many cameras, phones, and too much danger. If a neighbor saw him and called the police, he could be shot or trapped or God only knew what.