He rolled the tobacco around in his mouth, then leaned over and spit in the spittoon. He rose and shuffled off. For a minute, Alanna thought he was going after Neila’s phone number, but he went into the bathroom instead.
“You can let yerself out,” he called from behind the closed door. “I’ll be a while.”
Why wouldn’t he give it to her? What could it hurt? She was not leaving here without that number. Glancing around the room, she saw an old black phone on a coffee table. She lifted it up, but there was no phone book under it. She began to sort through the piles of magazines and books on the shelf under the stand. It had to be here somewhere.
But there was nothing that looked like a phone or address book. She rose from her knees and went into the tiny kitchen. A few glasses had been washed and placed on the dish drainer in the sink, but otherwise, the kitchen counter was empty. She began yanking open drawers until she found one containing miscellaneous items. She pawed through fuses, bottle openers, and lightbulbs down to some letters and notebooks.
And a published phone book. She lifted it out of the drawer and laid it on the counter. Most people jotted down phone numbers in the back, and she hoped he was one of those. Flipping open the back cover, she smiled when she saw the list of names and numbers.
The toilet flushed. Darby would be out any minute. She ran down the list. There it was. Neila’s number. She ran back to the sofa and grabbed her purse. Feverishly, she dug out a pad and pen.
The bathroom door opened. “Yer still here?” Darby flipped off the bathroom light. His gaze took in the book in her hand. “Give me that!” He shuffled toward her.
Alanna finished jotting down the number and stuffed the pad back in her purse before her great-grandfather could reach her. “I’m sorry, Darby.”
His face was red enough to illuminate the dark room. “Maybe Neila wants left alone.”
She’d always wondered what it would be like to find her family—her mother, her sister, her grandparents. When she was a teenager, she daydreamed she’d open the door one day and her mother and sister would rush in with their arms open. They’d tell her they’d been looking incessantly for her, that her being left was a mistake. They loved her and would never have left her behind on purpose.
This family didn’t miss her. None of them had been searching for her. They’d gone on with their lives and never thought about the little girl they’d left behind. They hadn’t cried in the night for her the way she’d cried for them. Unless Neila still missed her, and Alanna had to know the truth about that too.
Alanna faced her great-grandfather with her purse clutched in her hands. “I have to find her.”
He flapped a hand at her. “Get out of here and don’t come back. Yer not one of us. Yer too big for yer britches.”
She was one of them. She lifted her hand, wanting to mend the breech somehow, wanting him to know she wanted to be part of the family, that she’d never stopped being a Traveller. But the fierce glare he gave her from under his white, bunched brows made her drop her hand and go past him to the door. There was nothing more to be said.
She blinked at the first drops of rain that hit her face as she went to the car. Neila’s phone number was all she could think about. She might be only minutes away from hearing her sister’s laugh. That laugh she still heard in her dreams. Her memories of that laugh had helped her get through the years alone. She’d always known she’d someday find her sister.
Someday was here.
Alanna drove out of the village and back to Blackwater Hall. The rain intensified, and she flipped on the windshield washers.
Her sister’s number was burned into her brain. She didn’t even need to look at the piece of paper. Before she knew it, her cell phone was in her hand. She was almost out of power bars, but there should be enough for a short call. Moments later, she was punching in the number. Calling her sister couldn’t wait any longer.
The phone rang three times on the other end before it was picked up. “Hello,” said a male voice.
“Is . . . is this Paddy Gorman?”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you calling about having your driveway blacktopped?”
Paddy sounded more educated than she’d expected. She wet her lips. “No, th-this is Alanna, Neila’s sister.” There was a long pause on the other end, and for a moment, she wondered if he’d hung up. “Hello? Paddy, are you there?”
“I’m here. Is Neila with you?”
“No, I’m calling to try to find her. Isn’t she there?”
“I haven’t seen the woman in three years. She ran off with the fancy lawyer.”
Her hope crashed and burned before it had time to be born. “Three years?” she asked dismally. “You have no idea where she went?”
“Oh I know. But I’m not chasing after any skirt. She burned her bridges.”
“Where is she then?”
“Back in Charleston, I’d guess. Where her fancy man lives.”
Right here? So close by? Alanna began to smile. “What’s his name?”
“I don’t know his name. I only saw him once when he came to pick her up.”
She exhaled. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. “Can you describe him?”
“I can do better than that. I have a picture of the two of them together that I can e-mail to you, though you might be better off if you don’t find the selfish witch.”
“Please send it, Paddy.” She gave him her e-mail address.
“Just don’t tell me if you found her, okay? I’d rather not know.”
“Okay. Thanks, Paddy. I’m sorry she hurt you. Di-did she ever mention me?”
“Sure. She looked for you some too. Couldn’t find out anything.”
Joy colored the darkness with bright glimmers of light. Neila hadn’t forgotten her. That reunion Alanna longed for might still happen. “Thank you, Paddy.”
“Listen, I gotta go. Got a job I need to be at. Nice talking to you.” The phone clicked off.
Alanna dropped her cell phone back into her purse. Neila was so close. She had to find her. Glancing at the clock on the dash, she realized she’d been gone longer than expected. Accelerating, she took the last curve to the estate. As she came out of the curve and into the final stretch before the drive, she realized she was on the left side of the road again. The rhythmic swish of the blades had hypnotized her. She veered into her own lane, then glanced into the rearview mirror.
And gulped. Barry was behind her. She hated to disappoint him. He would never understand the nature of the errands she had to run today.
She couldn’t tell him either.
Thirty-One
Alanna turned into the driveway and drove to the garage, punching the button to open the door as she neared it. She pulled inside and turned off the engine, then closed the door again. Thunder rumbled overhead. Clouds roiled close and dark in a way she’d never seen, and she let out a sigh when she was safely in the garage.
When she got out, the building rumbled with the strength of the thunder. Barry pulled his Mercedes into the other bay. Through the window, she could see the muscle jumping in his jaw. Surely he couldn’t be that angry about her taking the car. Something else had to be upsetting him. Taking a deep breath, she waited for him to get out.
He slammed the car door and came toward her, blocking the exit. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his brows were drawn together. “Where were you, Alanna? With Jesse?” There was no kindness in his tone.
She’d wondered if he sensed the connection between her and Jesse. Now she knew. What would he say if he knew she suspected Jesse was Liam? He’d think she was quite dotty.
Her back stiffened at his tone. “No, I wasn’t with Jesse. He went to his house.” She started past him, and he grabbed her arm. His fingers bit into it. “Barry, you’re hurting me.”
Instead of releasing her as she’d expected, he pushed her up against the garage door. “Does he think I don’t see the way he looks at you? I want him out of my house. Out of our
lives—for good! You’re not to see him again.”
“I’m not a possession, Barry,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.
“You’re my wife!” He pressed her harder against the wall. His head lowered, and he delivered a punishing kiss, grinding his mouth against hers in an embrace that grew more painful.
She couldn’t breathe. Panic engulfed her, and she struggled to free herself. Her fists beat against his chest. He wedged his knee between her legs, and his fingers went to the waistband of her jeans. He began to pull her blouse free, and she heard the buttons give way.
No! She whipped her head from side to side and managed to free her mouth. “Let me go, Barry,” she panted, trying to force his hand away as it crept under her blouse and up her skin. “You’re too rough. You’ll hurt the baby.”
He wasn’t listening to her protests and continued to pull at her blouse until it was off her shoulders. The glaze over his eyes horrified her. He didn’t care what she wanted. He didn’t see her as a person, just a body. He lowered his head again, and his lips nuzzled her neck. Revulsion shuddered through her.
She cast her gaze to her right. If she stretched, she could just reach a hand shovel. Lunging for it, she wrapped her fingers around the handle and brought it toward his head. Before he saw what she had, she whacked the side of his forehead with it.
He reeled back with a groan. Blood spurted from a cut, but Alanna didn’t spare any sympathy for him. She leaped for the door and escaped outside.
“Alanna!” Barry shouted. He staggered from the garage with blood pouring down his face.
“Leave me alone!” Shrugging her blouse back into place, she buttoned it as she ran for the back door of the house that opened to the sunroom. The door was locked, and she’d dropped her purse when Barry grabbed her in the garage. She ran around the side of the house to the front, checking the side door on the way. It was locked too. Where was Grady? Was anyone else here? Even if she made it inside, he’d come after her if they were alone.
Lightning lashed the sky, crackling into a nearby tree. The horrifying crash made her jump. She needed to get inside. Rain was coming down in buckets now, and every inch of her body was drenched. She reached the porch and went to the door. It was unlocked. She practically fell inside, cradling her stomach protectively.
Shivering, she slammed the door shut and considered locking it, but that would only slow Barry down. And anger him. But maybe he was in control of himself again. Maybe it was his father’s death that had made him react so violently. She stood in the hallway and considered her options. She could talk to him calmly, sensibly. She could watch for him to come in, then go out the back door and leave. Or she could go to her room and lock the door.
None of the options was giving her any comfort. She needed thinking time. This was a big house. She could park herself somewhere until other people came back. It would give Barry time to cool off and herself time to think things through.
But where? Barry would look for her in her room right off. The ballroom was out for the same reason. There were other rooms in the house, but he’d be likely to search them all.
His locked room.
The thought came out of nowhere. What if he wasn’t mad anymore and decided to go there to do some work? But no, he’d been up there last night. He usually only went in every two or three days. It might be safe. Besides, if she had the key, he couldn’t get in anyway.
Rain thundered on the roof, sluiced over the windows, battered at the door. Through the window, Alanna saw Barry stumbling toward the front porch. No time to get to the second floor. She turned and raced for the kitchen door. Unlocking it, she locked it again before she stepped out into the rain. She ran for the garage but realized it was impossible to escape by car. The rain was coming down too hard, and even the driveway was flooding.
Her cell phone.
Rain dripped from her to the garage floor as soon as she stepped inside. She retrieved her purse from the floor. At least Barry would think she was inside. It was hard to think past the pounding rain. The sound of it filled her head, numbed her panic. She locked the garage door, then went to the car and got inside the backseat and locked it, then squeezed on the floor where she couldn’t be seen if Barry looked inside.
She shivered from the cold rain that had soaked every inch of her clothes. If only she had a towel. She squeezed the water from her hair and hunkered down even tighter to warm up. Fishing out her cell phone, she checked it. No power bars. She punched in 9–1–1, but it didn’t have enough juice to go through, so she dropped it back into her purse.
She peered up over the bottom of the window. The storm had intensified, and she heard nothing but thunder and rain. Easing open the door, she crawled out of the car and to the exterior door. She raised her head far enough to peek out into the yard. Through flashes of lightning, she saw mud puddles but no Barry.
The rain was coming down too hard to see to drive. Jesse sat in the car outside Mark’s apartment and tried to decide what to do. The radio blared out the news that this wasn’t just a spring rain but a hurricane moving in for a direct hit in the Charleston area.
The announcer’s excited voice bellowed out. “This is a category two storm, but don’t let that fool you. The rain bands in this storm are particularly bad, and we can expect heavy flooding. The outer edges will reach us in half an hour.”
So it was going to get worse. He could go back inside and take refuge with Mark and Ginny, but the less time he spent with them, the better. His mother would be happy to have him home for the evening, but he wanted to be with Alanna. She was afraid of storms like this. And after the attacks, he didn’t want her alone in that house.
He stopped and shook his head. These weird certainties kept hitting with no warning. In spite of the intensifying storm, he wanted to try to make it back to the house. The small car hydroplaned along the streets, but he managed to keep the car on his side of the line. Headlamps barely pushed back the dark of the storm as he drove rain-swept streets in a line of traffic that intensified. Others were trying to get somewhere before the worst of it too.
He reached the road out of town and turned off where the road dipped before climbing a small hill. And found the basin flooded. An SUV was stalled in the middle of the water, but the occupants had already fled the vehicle. He’d never make it across in this small car.
His cell phone rang, and he saw Ciara’s name flash across the screen. He answered it, “Ciara, is Alanna all right?”
“I’ve been trying to call her but can’t raise her,” Ciara said. “The road is flooded, and we can’t get back. We found a couple of rooms at the Charleston Place Hotel. If you see her, can you be letting her know so she doesn’t worry?”
“I’ll tell her.” He ended the call. His inner urgency to see Alanna kicked up. Why wasn’t she answering her phone? This was the only road in or out, and though he couldn’t drive it, he could walk. It was only two more miles. He’d make it there within an hour, even in the storm. A small cemetery was just to his right. He could park the car there and hoof it. Maybe there would be a better way on foot through the cemetery.
Angling the car through the open gate, he parked it in a pull-off area and got out. The rain immediately soaked through to his skin. It was hard to see in such a heavy downpour. The estate was to his right, north. He struck off in that direction.
Splashing through mud puddles, he ran for the slightly darker area where he knew the hillside was located. To his relief, he saw a small footbridge over the raging water that was quickly climbing to the bottom of the bridge. He lowered his head and ran for the other side. He reached it and leaped onto the grass.
His right sneaker hit mud, and his left one hit slick grass. He lost his balance and flung out his arms to try to regain it. The momentum threw him to the right, and he went down on one knee, still sliding toward the precipice into the water. He grabbed at tufts of grass, but they were too short and wet to allow him any purchase. Gaining momentum, he hurtled toward
the water.
The next thing he knew, his head was underwater and the churning current tried to keep it there. His feet touched bottom and he pushed himself upward. He had to breathe! His lungs burned with the pressure to pull in oxygen. The churning water was too dark to see through, and he lost all sense of time and location. His vision darkened even more. Where was the surface?
His head broke through and he gulped in oxygen. The turbulent water pushed him along, and he saw a tree stump coming toward him like a deadly projectile. He dived for the bottom, and though the stump struck only a glancing blow on his head, it was enough to disorient him for a moment. When he gained his senses, he found himself clinging to a rock. Pushing himself up again, he greedily sucked in air. He had to find a way out of this swollen creek.
When he dived again, he felt along the bottom for tree roots—and found them. He wrapped his fingers around the roots, then managed to land his other hand on them as well. Hand over hand, he dragged his way toward the surface along the roots. When his head broke the water this time he was along the side of the bank, but the water hurtling past threatened to tear his grip from the tree roots.
The blow to his head still made him feel woozy—or maybe it was all the water he swallowed. It would be so much easier to just let go, quit fighting. Let the current tear the roots from his grasp and take him into oblivion. But he had to get to Alanna again, protect her. In that moment, Jesse realized he couldn’t just give in. He had to fight.
Somewhere he found the strength to reach his right hand up and grasp the tangled mass of tree roots. He put the toe of his shoe into the roots along the wall of the creek and struggled against the current. Inch by inch he managed to climb his way out of the churning water until he lay gasping in the mud like a newborn turtle.
He groaned and rolled onto his back. The rain pelted him, filling his nose and mouth until he felt he was drowning again, but he was too weak to resist. The thud of the rain against the ground filled his ears, and he heard music. Coughing, he rolled to his side, and his head began to clear.