by Lisa Jackson
Ravinia shrugged.
“You don’t know?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “Some I know of, some I don’t.”
“But one brother’s threatening the rest of you?” His skeptical tone had obviously reached her.
“My family’s not normal.”
“I’ll buy that.”
She threw him a look. “But you don’t believe that my brother is evil?”
“I don’t know enough to make that call.”
Ravinia said flatly, “I’m telling you the truth. I can’t make you believe it.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Go on. Explain about your family.”
She drew a breath. “My mother must have been pregnant most of her adult life, but I just have vague memories of her. I’ve heard stories, though. She had a lot of lovers and a lot of children from those lovers. I have a couple sisters who were adopted out as soon as they were born. Two, I think. No, three . . .” She shook her head and then started ticking off her fingers. “I just learned I had a couple brothers who were also adopted out as babies. We just got information on their adoptive parents and Ophelia’s helping Aunt Catherine find out more about them. Ophelia’s one of my sisters still at the lodge—Siren Song. That’s where most of us live. Anyway, after Natasha ran away Aunt Catherine really put us in lockdown.”
“Natasha is your sister.”
“Yeah.” Ravinia looked out the passenger window. “I thought Aunt Catherine was crazy and, you know, kind of a warden. It seemed unfair and I just couldn’t handle being locked up like that.”
“This Siren Song was a prison?”
“No, no. More like a fortress if you have to label it. But it didn’t matter to me. I had to escape, so I kept sneaking out, climbing over the wall and leaving.”
“But you said she sent you to find your cousin.”
“She did . . . after she realized the danger and knew that I had the best chance of finding Elizabeth as I’d been out enough to understand what I had to do. Some of my sisters . . . well, they’re kind of naive, I guess you’d say. They wouldn’t know what to do and Aunt Catherine had to stay and take care of them.”
“So you were elected.”
Ravinia shook her head. “I wanted to find Elizabeth. So that’s why I’m here. I don’t agree with Aunt Catherine on everything, but I get where she’s coming from now. She’s not half as crazy as some of the rest of my family. It’s just that she was always so secretive. She thought she was protecting us, but she would never tell us anything, so I gave her a hard time and just wanted out. Now . . . it’s just all kind of murky. The past. She tells it in bits and pieces, kind of on a need to know basis.”
Ravinia turned her attention away from the window and leaned against it so she could look straight at him. “Anyway, I also know one of my brothers, Nathaniel, died as a baby. He was kind of mentally slow, I think. His grave’s at Siren Song, like my mother’s. I don’t know exactly what happened to him. There’s some mystery about his death, and Aunt Catherine isn’t talking.”
Fun group, Rex thought, but held his tongue. Her countenance had become pensive, so he asked, “Something else?”
Her gaze lifted, finding his. “One of my cousins was a homicidal maniac.” She said it in that Oh, I almost forgot kind of voice.
“Another cousin?” Rex questioned and thought she was really off the rails. Her story got more fantastical by the second.
“Like a second cousin.” Ravinia seemed to think it over as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to go into it, then said, “His name was Justice. He breached the wall, climbing over to get at us, once.”
“And?”
“I stabbed him.” She held his gaze, nearly daring him to ask.
“You stabbed him?” He found it hard to believe she was violent.
“Yeah.”
Rex couldn’t help but ask, “What happened?”
“He survived. But not for long. He’s dead now, too.”
“Because of the wounds you inflicted?”
Shaking her head, she said, “No.”
Rex had to drag his gaze away from her and turn his attention back to the Cochran mansion. He couldn’t tell if she was a tall tale teller, a mental case, or if some truth was buried in what she was saying. He felt it might be the latter, but he couldn’t say why. All the talk of stabbing and death and murderous intent was stretching his ability to believe her. “So, your aunt’s worried that your brother is coming after you and your family.”
“My half brother,” she clarified.
“And she sent you out to find her daughter, your cousin, because she’s worried about her.”
“Aunt Catherine thinks we’re safe at Siren Song but nowhere else. She’s a little bit of a control freak. Well, a lot of one.”
“But she let you leave the . . . fortress where your sisters and brothers are and head south.”
“She didn’t think she had much of a choice. She wanted me to find Elizabeth. And it’s just my sisters at Siren Song with Aunt Catherine—Isadora, Ophelia, Cassandra, and Lillibeth.” Ravinia shot him a look as if she didn’t think he’d been paying attention. “I told you my brothers were adopted out.”
“Except Nathaniel,” he reminded her.
“He wasn’t right somehow. He was a lot older than the other boys, and that was before they all really knew about the gifts.” She pushed some wayward strands of hair into her braid.
“Gifts?” Rex asked dubiously.
“You’re not going to believe me so I’m not going to tell you.” She let her braid fall and stared at him with those intense eyes again. “My turn for a question.”
“No, wait. You can’t stop there. You’re dying to tell me. What gifts?”
“Psychic gifts,” she said after a long moment.
Rex looked at her hard and laughed out loud. “You sure you’re not from LA?”
She let out a disgusted breath. “I know how it sounds, believe me. Next thing, you’ll want me to prove it to you.”
“Well, that would be the natural next step.”
“The thing is, my gift isn’t one you can really assess.”
Rex had to force himself not to goad her further. He’d heard a lot of stories in his business. Some pretty outlandish. But this one was right up there. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s your gift?”
“I can look into someone’s heart and know what kind of person they are, good or evil.”
The smile died on Rex’s lips as he remembered the heat he’d felt in his chest when her gaze had first landed on him. “And have you looked into mine?”
“Of course.” She nodded, holding his gaze.
“Did I pass?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she countered. “Ever read mythology, Mr. Kingston?”
“Rex. Call me Rex, and no, I can’t say that I have.”
“Well, you should. Anyway, in myth, Cassandra could predict the future, but she angered the gods and therefore was cursed. From then on, it didn’t matter that she could tell the future, the curse made it so no one would ever believe her. I have a sister named Cassandra. She used to be Margaret, but when my mother realized she had the gift of prophecy, she changed her name.”
“Your sister has the gift of prophecy?”
“Yep. Except we believe her.”
He shook his head, trying not to smile though it was a losing battle.
She, however, was dead serious. “How come you grew apart?”
“What?”
“You and your wife. How come you grew apart?”
She’d woven such an unbelievable tale that he’d forgotten for a moment where his story had left off. His marriage. “She wanted more than a cop’s life.”
“You’re not a cop anymore.”
“Close enough.” He picked up his binoculars and once again focused them on the Cochrans’ house.
“You weren’t that sorry when the marriage failed.”
She’d got that right. But maybe it wasn’t that much of
a stretch. “I thought you said your sister was the seer.”
“You don’t have to be psychic to read people.”
That was probably true enough. He slowly scanned the perimeter of the Cochrans’ estate, but so far no action. He dropped the glasses again. “What about your other sisters and brothers?”
“I don’t really know what they all can do. We don’t talk about it much because it’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How is it—?”
“Is that the woman you’re waiting for?”
Rex swung the binoculars to his eyes again to see that the gates of the Cochran estate were sliding open and Kimberley Cochran’s silver-blue Mercedes was idling. She was behind the wheel waiting to enter the road.
Finally. Showtime.
Tossing the field glasses into the backseat, he clicked on his seat belt and twisted the ignition. “Buckle up,” he ordered as he started the engine.
“Why? Are you going to drive fast?”
“It’s the law and I don’t want a ticket.”
“Do you believe what I told you?” she asked, reaching for the shoulder harness, “Or do you think I’m a complete wacko, like everybody else?”
He slid her a quick glance, then eased into traffic. “I’m leaning toward complete wacko.” He turned his attention to the Mercedes slowing for a stop sign at the cross street and felt that little tingle of anticipation he always did when he was on the move and following his quarry.
Chapter 10
It took longer than she’d expected for Elizabeth to pull herself back together and get Chloe cleaned up, then dressed in clothes that didn’t look as if she’d been wearing them for a week. Combing her daughter’s hair was a nightmare as Chloe thrashed and moaned and screamed, “You’re hurting me!” as soon as Elizabeth put the brush to her scalp.
“Sorry,” Elizabeth apologized, though she knew she wasn’t hurting her child. Chloe was just being Chloe and she lived her life out loud all the time. Elizabeth figured her daughter’s outspokenness would be an asset when she was older, though hopefully she would temper it a bit. However, it seemed as if no one was going to run over Chloe or tromp all over her feelings or give her a complex; she just wouldn’t let them.
“There ya go. Take a look in the mirror,” Elizabeth said once Chloe’s wayward curls had been tamed. “All set.”
Chloe had to grin at her reflection of rosy cheeks and bright eyes and finally, tangle-free golden locks. “But I don’t want to go to Lissa’s,” she complained after one last glimpse in the bathroom mirror before hopping off the counter.
Elizabeth silently agreed. She, too, would have loved to bag out. The fact was, she was just plain tired after a very long, very stressful week, and was mentally kicking herself for agreeing to have dinner at Vivian’s. She would have much rather stayed home with Chloe and let her daughter be a bundle of loud energy away from a crowd. But that wasn’t what was going to happen.
Less than half an hour later, Elizabeth wound her way up the curving street to where Vivian’s house stood on the crest of the hill. She pulled up to the curb about two blocks away from the imposing residence. Located in a pocket of houses with a Newport Beach address, the Eachus home was a sprawling California ranch that had a second floor added sometime in the nineties. Vivian and Bill had remodeled once more on a grand scale, courtesy of Bill’s company and the place was huge, surrounded by manicured grounds. Bill was in real estate development and had been savvy enough to skip over the recession and land on his feet. Currently his company was building rows of houses in developments in Irvine just east of I-5.
As she and Chloe walked up the palm-lined street, Elizabeth eyed the exterior of the massive structure. Though it wasn’t quite dusk, palm and eucalyptus trees were already bright with strands of outdoor lights, the gardens manicured. Elizabeth guessed from the sheer size of the home, six, possibly seven bedrooms were tucked inside.
She had been to Vivian’s grand home once before, but it had been for a quick drop-in and she hadn’t been given the tour. She hadn’t seen the upper floor, but thought she’d probably get her chance. No doubt Chloe would barrel upstairs and down, so Elizabeth was probably going to get her chance to see a lot of the house just trying to corral her daughter.
Lissa met them at the door almost before Chloe pressed her finger to the bell. The two girls looked at each other for a second, then Lissa said, “Come to my room,” and they were off, laughing and thundering up a wide staircase. If only they would stay happy with each other, Elizabeth reflected as she stepped across the threshold into a grand foyer, but she didn’t hold out a lot of hope as the two girls’ personalities were bound to clash. They always did.
“We’re in the kitchen!” Vivian yelled.
Elizabeth followed the sound to a wide kitchen with a broad bank of windows and what seemed like acres of granite glimmering under recessed lighting. Through the windows, she viewed flagstones that led to a shimmering pool and the tended grounds surrounding it. Deirdre and Les Czursky were seated at one of the tables scattered around the patio, their son, Chad, a classmate of Chloe’s, occupying one of the chairs and the younger son, Bryan, on his mother’s lap.
“So glad you could come,” Bill said from the bar where he was pouring ice from a plastic bag into a bucket. Tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes, he stopped filling an ice bucket to round the end of the counter and gave Elizabeth a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Sorry about Court. I . . . I just don’t know what to say.”
Neither do I. “It’s okay,” she said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel as he stepped away. “Here.” She handed him a bottle of red wine. “Thanks for inviting me . . . er . . . us.”
“Anytime!” Vivian pulled a bake-your-own pizza from one of the double ovens and slid it onto the counter. “Glad you made it,” she added as her husband Bill added the merlot to a grouping of about six other bottles already situated on the bar. The hot pizza smelled like heaven. Curling rounds of pepperoni floated on a sea of melting cheese.
“Have an hors d’oeuvre.” Vivian gestured to the tray of cheese, grapes, crackers, and what looked like fig jam positioned on one counter while an array of salads had already been positioned on the island.
“Deirdre and Les are outside,” Vivian said as she searched in one of the drawers and scowled as she came up with a plastic pizza wheel. “With their boys. I guess Chad and Bryan don’t want to mingle with the girls.” She started working with the pizza wheel. “Geez, is this the best we can do? Bill, don’t we have another cutter somewhere? I’ve got to start in on the steak.”
He shrugged and Vivian shot Elizabeth a look. One that suggested all husbands were useless in the kitchen. “You’d think we could afford a real pizza wheel, something stainless steel, you know, one that didn’t come as a freebie the last time we ordered from Domino’s or something.” Frowning, she added, “Oh well, this will just have to do.” She worked the plastic wheel, dragging it through the oozing cheese, long strings of mozzarella trailing after it. “God, what a mess.” She looked up at her husband once more and sent him another look. “Maybe Elizabeth would like a glass of wine.”
“I would,” Elizabeth said and walked to the bar.
“Sorry. I was just about to offer you one,” Bill said. “Red?”
“Sure.” As soon as the stemmed glass was full, she plucked it from his fingers and stepped outside.
Elizabeth had never met Deirdre’s husband before, and when she was introduced to the short man with the receding blond hair, she was surprised by the warm hug he gave her.
“Sorry about your loss,” he said, sounding like he meant it.
“Thank you.”
“Can we go in the pool?” Chad asked.
Standing, Deirdre placed her younger son onto the patio and said to Chad, “No, honey. It’s not that kind of party.”
Lower lip protruding, Chad hung his head, but Deirdre ignored him as Bryan stayed close to her. “So, glad you decided to come,” she said, and like her husband
before her, gave Elizabeth a hug.
“It’s good to get out,” Elizabeth lied, once disentangled. The truth was she was counting the minutes until she could politely collect Chloe, return home, and collapse.
The doorbell rang again, dulcet chimes pealing just as they were heading inside.
Lissa called from upstairs, “I’ll get it!” With a clamber of footsteps and flashing legs, Lissa and Chloe raced madly down the steps to the front door. “It’s my house!” Lissa shrieked.
“I’m here first!” Chloe yelled back.
“You can both open the door,” Vivian called, rolling her eyes.
Bill said drily, “Like Lissa’s going to let that happen.”
“They’re so competitive,” Elizabeth said and glanced at a clock mounted high over the bar. If she could just go home. Everyone was nice, but she was just overwhelmed, and she didn’t want to spend her energy trying to keep Lissa and Chloe in their separate corners.
Nadia Vandell. Elizabeth suddenly remembered Vivian’s friend’s last name as she entered the foyer. She was the last member to join their Moms Group as she hadn’t been around when they first formed and she didn’t have any children. Vivian had asked if she could join and everyone agreed as there was no exclusivity. Their common interests had been their children in the beginning, but as the years past they were simply friends. Nadia’s husband, Kurt, another spouse Elizabeth had yet to meet, was out of town, Nadia explained, so, for the night, she was a single, too. “We can stick together,” Nadia said, flashing a smile as she plucked a glass of wine from Bill.
Within seconds, before the door could close again and there was another fight about who would answer it, Tara arrived with her daughter Bibi, and her husband, Dave. Elizabeth remembered Dave as she’d met him a couple of times before, once when he popped in on one of their Moms Group Happy Hours, and another time when Tara and Bibi had stopped by after a dance class that Chloe and Bibi had taken. When Tara’s car had refused to start, Dave came to pick them up.
An impromptu barbecue had ensued, where Dave went to the store for all the fixings for hot dogs and hamburgers, and Elizabeth served gin and tonics to the adults and lemonade to the girls while they waited for Triple A to come and recharge the battery in Tara’s car.