“What do you want them to say about Tim?”
“My son loved his stepfather. He was in shock over his stepfather’s illness. He had an accident.”
Lies. All lies. Jake had destroyed her family. Jake and Samantha. Only Jake had a reason, but he had turned Samantha against her. Somehow he had pried open the doors to the past and taken revenge—ruining Alexandra’s future through her loved ones just as she had ruined his.
It was not a fair trade.
She would make him pay his debt.
“I’m going home now,” Alexandra announced. “I’m going back to Pandora. I need to take care of the arrangements. Have someone bring my car. I want to go to the airport. I’ll fly the Cessna home.”
“Mrs. Lomax, you can’t do that. You’re in shock. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Alexandra looked at her with measured, unblinking strength. “I have never been more aware of what I have to do.”
The breeze across the airport runways smelled of oil and heat. Slate-gray summer clouds pressed the muggy air down on her, and the noise of the big jets in a distant sector of the airport was a low, unending drone in Sam’s ears. She walked slowly through the wide arena of concrete and sky, an actress moving with intense concentration toward the stage.
Official-looking men and women were crowded around Alexandra’s small airplane, and Sam could see them sweating in their business suits. The plane was a puddle jumper, one of those propeller-driven crafts that resembled an oversize toy. Sam glimpsed her aunt at the group’s center, stately in her grief, an elegant murderer.
The woman who had manipulated everyone in her path. Who had sent a con man to plunder her own sister’s savings and fragile independence. Who had spared no mercy for Sarah, Hugh, and Ellie. Who had let Jake go to prison for tracking down the truth.
Sam recognized Barbara in the group. At the same moment, her aunt’s longtime secretary glanced Sam’s way, gaped at her, then hurried over, hands outstretched. Barbara seemed relieved to see her. Sam halted rigidly as Barbara grasped her shoulders. “You couldn’t have shown up at a better time,” she told Sam. “I should have known you wouldn’t let old misunderstandings keep you away. She’s your family.”
That word had the power to twist Sam’s stomach. Yes, Alexandra was her family. A hopelessly entrenched poison, impossible to wash out. The reason Jake had kept secrets from her. The reason he couldn’t bring himself to say he still loved her. “Blood’s thicker than water,” she answered.
“How did you find us?”
“Went to the hospital first. They told me she was here.”
“She’s determined to fly herself to Pandora. We’ve been trying to talk her out of it, but she won’t listen. She keeps saying it will only take about an hour, and that she needs the time to think. She’s in shock, Samantha. She won’t talk about Orrin or Tim. She won’t let go and cry.”
Sam stared past Barbara. “I’ll go with her. She’ll talk to me. I’m a very good listener.” She walked on, the hair rising on the nape of her neck while a dark feeling of serenity grew inside her.
Her aunt’s attention rested on her. Alexandra stiffened. Her head came up, and the look on her face gave away nothing—not surprise, or wariness, or pleasure. The crowd parted. Sam was dimly conscious of the stares. She steeled herself, put an arm around Alexandra’s shoulders, and hugged her tightly. “I’m glad I caught up with you,” she told her aunt. I caught you, Sam amended silently. I caught you in your lies. “I’ll keep you company on the trip home.”
Alexandra draped her arms around Sam. “See?” she said to the others. “My niece knows me better than all of you do. She doesn’t expect me to fall apart.” She looked at Sam—hollow-eyed but sharp. “We’re very much alike. Strong. We’ll get through this together.”
Sam nodded.
Jake climbed a steep bank, pushed his way through a thicket of brambles, and halted, breathing heavily, along an empty road on the outskirts of town. The ribbon of pavement snaked along a man-made terrace carved out of the mountain’s flanks decades earlier, shadowed by overhanging trees until it disappeared around a switch-back curve ahead.
He would follow the quiet back road, hoping to catch a ride on one of the lumber trucks or tankers that sometimes used the road as a bypass around town. It might take hours to get a ride; even the toughest rig drivers would think twice about stopping for a dangerous-looking stranger in the middle of nowhere.
Jake began walking. He refused to think too much about his haphazard journey. Panic churned under his frustration, and he couldn’t let it distract him.
The day was slipping inside gray clouds and mist; it was the kind of weather that would blanket the high places in dense white fog by night.
He had to get out of the mountains before then.
He sensed a car coming long before he heard it. Cars meant trouble—a deputy, the state patrol, a forest ranger—people who might be hunting for him. Locals who might tell someone they’d seen him. He cursed the lost chance and eased back into the concealing thickets.
A late-model pickup truck crept around the curve. Jake was instantly wary. It moved too slowly, even for the tricky road. Could be someone hoping to take potshots at the deer that grazed the road’s grassy shoulder. Could be someone looking for him.
The truck rolled closer, inching along. The driver’s window was open. A burly black arm in a short-sleeved shirt was crooked on the sill.
Hoke Doop, his dark, jowly face compressed in serious lines, scanned the thicket.
Jake bolted forward. Hoke jerked the truck to a stop. “I’ll be damned,” the detective called. “I heard the local boys were lookin’ for you, and I figured you might need some help. I went prowling for you. My hunches are workin’ like a Swiss clock today.”
Jake swung the passenger door open and leapt inside.
They had not spoken a word to each other since climbing into the plane. For almost an hour now Sam had sat in the close confines without speaking. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for; she wasn’t afraid. The plane bucked in the rough air. Clouds closed in around them, and streams of water whipped along the small window beside her face. She studied her fading reflection in that crying mirror, and relived her memories of Jake.
Summing up the happiness, the sorrow, the love. Tying up the loose threads; clearing her loom of the tapestry they had woven together. Wrapping herself securely in that intricate, marvelous cloth. That was why she had waited—to feel, to know, its reassuring warmth around her.
“We’re coming into the mountains,” Alexandra said in a soft, caustic tone. “Almost home. How long do you intend to keep up the sympathetic pretense?”
Her question jolted Sam. Time was up. She turned toward her aunt, and for a moment she only studied her—the clean, delicate profile, the hard mouth and eyes, the unfailingly confident hands gripping the plane’s controls. “Why wouldn’t I feel sorry for you?” Sam asked.
“Stop it. I’m not a fool. You wanted to hurt me. You and Jake. What did you think—that you could hide behind a newspaper reporter and I’d never suspect? That you could tear down everything I’ve built and then live happily ever after, gloating over your victory?” Her voice rose. “The two of you killed Orrin. You killed Tim.”
Sam leaned back and shut her eyes. “It’s easier for you to believe that than admit the truth. But I’m sure you understand how one small push can start a chain of events.”
“He’s finished. Do you hear me? Jake is finished. I’m going to prove he was on that bald with Tim last night. I’m going to prove my son’s death was no accident, no suicide.”
Sam opened her eyes. “You think you’re invincible.”
“Look at me. I’m still here. And I will survive and prosper long after Jake is gone.”
Sam laid a cool hand on her arm. “There’s no way out this time. No more lies. No … Malcolm Drury … doing your dirty work for you.”
Alexandra jerked. She turned a livid, searing gaze to Sam’s
condemning one. Her mouth worked. Sam straightened in the seat. They were so close together. Blood kin, opposite sides of the same hard coin. “Don’t bother to say it isn’t true. You sent him into my mother’s life. You let him hurt her. Jake tracked him down that time and made him suffer for what he’d done. But you waited. You used Malcolm again—to destroy the Raincrows. And you let Jake go to prison for punishing Malcolm. Jake knew you were behind all of it, but he was trapped—not just by prison, but because he never wanted me to know what my own aunt had done to his family, and to him.”
Sam paused, watching the words sink into Alexandra’s expression. A kind of terrified fury glimmered in her eyes. Sam breathed evenly, measuring every second. “Please don’t deny it. Because I’ll never believe you.” Her hand tightened on Alexandra’s stiff, trembling arm. “And I’ll never let you go.”
Slowly, the horror that suffused Alexandra drained away. She appeared almost relaxed. Burned down to glowing, deadly coals. “How did he know?”
“There are some things I can’t explain. Things you don’t deserve to hear. But he does know, and so do I. And I won’t let you hurt him anymore.” She stared quietly into the mirror of unflinching blue eyes. “Understand? I’m here to finish what you started.”
“Don’t you see? Jake forced me to take steps to protect what was mine.”
“None of it ever belonged to you. You stole it.”
“I wanted to own everything that was precious in the world,” Alexandra whispered. “That included you. More than anything else. My own perfect replica.”
“No. I’m like you in only one way. I don’t give up.”
“If I said I won’t land this plane until we reach a compromise?” There was an unspoken question underneath, a test.
Sam didn’t hesitate. “I can’t go home to Jake. You murdered his family. When he looks at me, he’ll always see you.” She placed both perfect, graceful hands on Alexandra’s, riding the motion of the plane’s control with them. “End it now.”
Alexandra smiled at her. There was savage pride in it. Slowly, bonded by the only bleak victory they had ever shared, they drew their hands away.
“What’s wrong? You sick, boy?” Hoke kept one eye on the interstate traffic and glanced anxiously at Jake, who had suddenly doubled over on the truck’s seat. Sick wasn’t a strong enough word for the way Jake looked. He had his forearms folded across his stomach as if something had been ripped out of him. He shook violently and gasped for air. “Stop,” he ordered in a raw tone.
Hoke was too stunned to ask questions. He maneuvered his truck into the grassy median and rolled to a stop. Jake gripped the dash, white-knuckled, and pushed himself upright. Hoke had never seen so much pain and panic in a man’s face. “Something’s happened,” he said. “Go … back. Toward the mountains.”
The know-how had slammed into Jake like a sledgehammer. Hoke didn’t doubt that something terrible had happened. He slapped the truck into gear, made a U turn that sprayed chunks of rain-soaked sod into the air, and headed back down the highway at full tilt. “Talk to me, boy,” he commanded grimly. “Don’t let your imagination get the best of you. Tune it out and give me something solid. ’Cause we’re headin’ in the wrong direction if Sammie’s still in Durham, like you thought she was before.”
Jake fell back on the seat and pressed his hands to his head. He made a guttural sound that chilled Hoke’s skin. “She’s not there anymore. She’s not … all right anymore.”
Hoke steered with one hand and grabbed his car phone with the other. “My brother’s baby girl is a secretary at the hospital over in Durham.” He punched a number. “Louise, honey? It’s Uncle Hoke. Aw, got nothin’ better to do on my day off than meddle in some gossip. You still got government honchos and reporters runnin’ around there? You do? Heard anything interestin’?”
Hoke listened intensely, didn’t like what his niece told him, said his thanks and good-bye abruptly, then dropped the phone back in its berth. “Miz Lomax left for the airport a couple of hours ago. Everybody’s talkin’ about it. Callin’ her steel magnolia, and such. Because she was set on flying herself back to Pandora in her own plane.”
He glanced at Jake, who was looking more torn out of the frame every second. Hoke took the phone again. “Got a fishin’ buddy at the airport. Chief of security.” Hoke punched another number, listened, then barked, “Teddy, you old sonuvabitch. This is Hoke. Got no time to hear you tell more lies about your prize bass. Checkin’ up on something. Did the governor’s widow come through there a while ago? Oh? Oh? Yeah, that must’ve been sweet. Bye.”
Hoke put the phone down slowly, as if a ton of bricks had been dumped on him. He could feel Jake staring at him. “Real sweet thing, Teddy said.” Hoke cleared his throat. “Miz Lomax was bound and determined to head home in her own plane, nasty weather be damned. Her niece showed up to keep her company. Went with her.”
The last heartbeat before the end of the world couldn’t have been any quieter. Then Jake said in a voice that made Hoke shiver, “Take me to somebody who has a helicopter.”
“Where’s Sammie?”
Charlotte stood in the yard, rain drizzling down her face, one hand on the open door of the second car she’d rented after Sammie had taken the other car in search of Jake the night before. She looked from Joe and Clara to the scowling deputy sheriff. All three were ensconced on the porch with Bo, who lay with his graying muzzle morosely planted on his front paws.
“We haven’t seen her or Jake all day,” Joe said.
“I’ve called a dozen times. Why didn’t one of you answer the phone?”
Joe gave the deputy a sour glance. “Barney Fife wouldn’t let us.”
The deputy shifted awkwardly as Charlotte turned a furious stare on him. He said loudly, “I have my orders,” against a background of dripping rain and the sporadic crackle of the dispatcher’s voice conversing with other deputies on the tiny radio unit perched on his shoulder. “You find Jake for me, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
Charlotte exploded. “I don’t know where my brother-in-law is, but I’m sure as hell not going to help you find him so your neo-Nazi interrogators can harass him. He and my sister are probably trying to learn what made our mutual cousin walk off the side of a mountain last night! Our cousin’s dead, his stepfather’s dead”—she waved toward Ben, who sat in the car’s passenger side looking like a dazed, half-wrapped mummy—“my guy here is recuperating from a … an accident, so don’t you think we have enough to deal with? I’m bringing my guy into this house and putting him to bed, and the next time the phone rings, I’ll answer it. Now get your Dudley-Dooright ass out of my way.”
“Charlotte,” Ben interjected groggily. “I’m really not up for any Bonnie and Clyde theatrics at the moment.”
The deputy rose hurriedly, looking wistful. “Ma’am, I have feelings too, you know. I went to high school with Tim, and Jake, and Jake’s sister. Jake and Ellie kept Tim from bullying me and every other scrawny little ‘Dudley Dooright’ in town. My whole family loved Jake’s daddy and counted on him to take care of ’em when they was sick. One of my folks’ proudest possessions is a hand-painted portrait Jake’s mama gave them on their first wedding anniversary.” The deputy flailed his arms for emphasis. “Like most of the people around here, I’d just as soon leave Jake alone and wish him well.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Then tell the sheriff that, and go away. Ben, say something. He can’t commandeer this house and ambush Jake for no good reason, can he?”
Ben straightened gallantly but with obvious pain, his bad arm in a sling and his taped rib cage showing under the shirt draped around his shoulders. “I’ll argue your case with every breath in my battered body. In the best tradition of my literary hero, Atticus Finch, I shall humble this unsuspecting officer of the law with my uncanny impression of Gregory Peck—”
“Hush,” Charlotte said, suddenly ashamed of pressuring him for help when he was barely able to sit upright. She dropped down beside him a
nd stroked his hair. “You’ve done more than your share of noble wrangling for me, Sammie, and Jake. Shhh. Relax and enjoy your medication.”
“—and if all else fails, my love,” Ben continued doggedly, “I will crawl out of this vehicle and bite your oppressor on the ankle.”
Charlotte sighed. “I’ll behave, for your sake. Sammie and Jake will show up eventually.”
The deputy’s shoulder radio emitted an electronic squawk, followed by the dispatcher yelling Duane, as if something had rattled the official procedure out of her vocabulary. The deputy jumped. He grasped the unit. “I’m right here.”
“You still at the Raincrows?”
“Yeah. All I’ve got so far is Jake’s sister-in-law, and she’s making my life miserable.”
“Get out to the airstrip as fast as you can. Sheriff needs everybody over there. Mrs. Lomax was flying in from Durham, and she should’ve landed an hour ago. We think the plane went down in the fog.”
Clara muttered something in Cherokee. Charlotte reeled with shock. In the space of twenty-four hours Orrin had died of a stroke, Tim had fallen or jumped from a secluded cliff, and now Aunt Alex was missing. It was as if some bizarre black hole were swallowing the family up one by one. Where were Sammie and Jake?
“I’m on my way,” the deputy said.
“Duane!” the dispatcher called. “Wait!”
“Yeah?”
“Jake’s sister-in-law is also Mrs. Lomax’s niece.”
The deputy looked startled, as if he’d just remembered that fact. He squinted at Charlotte, who nodded grimly. “I don’t think she’s going to collapse if I leave,” he said with drawling exasperation.
“Duane! You better bring her with you. Her sister was on the plane with Mrs. Lomax.”
Charlotte’s knees buckled. She sagged against the car door. Dimly she heard Clara speaking to Joe. One strange word stuck in Charlotte’s terrified thoughts.
Ravenmocker.
Chapter
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