From her pocket, with hands shaking, she took out two pieces of paper and unfolded them, smoothed out the creases, the lines on the paper. “This is your birth certificate, your real one. Alana took you away from me when you were born. She had me admitted to a psychiatric ward. She and Jessica saw to it that I was locked up in a mental hospital for almost eighteen months after you were born.”
She waved the other piece of paper toward Kit. “And this is my discharge paper from the psychiatric hospital I was in, dated with the date of my release so that you’ll know I’m telling you the truth. The day you were born, Jessica filed papers in court for Alana to adopt you, told the court I was an unfit mother, that I was crazy. Jessica made certain it was all legal. They took you away from me in the hospital, Kit. I never got to hold you…my baby daughter. They locked me up, you see.”
The sobs poured from Gloria again and made her a little incoherent. “I never got to be your mother. Alana and Jessica stole you away from me. I wanted so much to be your mother, but they took you away from me, Kit, and sent me three thousand miles away from you.”
Kit felt a little sick at her stomach. Even sitting up in bed, she swayed back and forth looking at everyone in the room. “This is a joke, right? You guys are just messing with me, right?”
When Gloria started crying again, more uncontrollable sobs formed in her throat and she started shaking her head. But it was Jake who stepped up to the bed, took Kit’s hand in his and said, “No honey, this isn’t a joke. Do you understand what Gloria’s telling you?”
“Yeah, I think so. She’s telling me that fucking bitch wasn’t my real mother. Isn’t that what you’re telling me, Glo? That I’m not Alana’s real daughter.” Kit started laughing. “How about that guys? How about that? Gloria’s not my aunt, she’s my mother. What do you think about that, Baylee?”
Gloria’s hands were still shaking, her face was still wet, but the sobs had ceased when she looked at Kit and asked, “Aren’t you angry, Kit?”
With a heavy slur to her speech, Kit said, “Hell no. As long as I know that bitch wasn’t my real mother, everythin’s fine, jus’ fine.”
It was hours later before dawn that Kit came awake in her hospital room to streaky bits of light peeking from underneath the hospital drapes covering the window. Trying to focus in the dim light, she thought she could make out someone sitting in the darkened corner by the bed and asked, “Jake, is that you?”
But it was Gloria who popped up from her chair and reached out to touch Kit’s face. “No sweetie it’s me. How’d you sleep?”
“Like the dead. The last thing I remember was…” She blinked further awake. “Everyone was in my room and you were telling me…”
“That I’m your mother. Yes, sweetie it’s true. It wasn’t a dream. You can still call me Gloria if you want. I don’t expect anything…expect you to feel…I don’t expect you to be…to call me…”
Tears pooled in Kit’s eyes. “I love you Gloria. Gloria is a name I trust. The word mom on the other hand is as foreign to me as another language. Maybe someday I’ll be able to wrap that word around my tongue, and it’ll just roll right off when I see you without thinking, but for now, you’re still just Gloria. The woman I’ve loved and trusted like no other for so long.”
Sobbing, Gloria put her arms around Kit in spite of the bandages and drip. “Oh Kit. I’m so sorry, so very sorry. I wanted to make it right, travel across the country to come back to L.A. get my baby back, but I was locked up. Locked up all that time, knowing what they’d done, what I’d lost almost made me crazy for real. For eighteen months, they gave me shock treatments once a week. When they released me, I was flat broke, didn’t even have a car, couldn’t afford a bus ticket to five miles down the road much less to get back to L.A. to come back for you. I thought about ending it then.”
“Oh, Gloria.”
“But I wasn’t on any medication so I didn’t have any pills I could take. I didn’t own a gun so I couldn’t shoot myself. One afternoon, I walked out to the harbor and sat down on the pier there, watching the boats for a while. It’s different from L.A. there, quieter, a little more serene than here. But right there in the harbor, I thought maybe I could just walk off into the ocean and drown, just sink down into the depths of the water, and leave my problems, my messed up life behind.
“But I didn’t do that, Kit, because I thought of you. The one person in the world that was mine, the one person I loved above all else. I walked back to town then, got a job as a maid at the bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town and started saving every penny, every dime I could scrape together to get a lawyer to get you back.
“That’s how I met Morty. I went into his office about six months later and told him the whole story. And the day he told me that the adoption was legal because Jessica had some piece of paper that said I gave you up, I cried for a week. I didn’t sign anything, or at least I don’t remember signing anything. But Alana had you just the same and I didn’t. And by that time you were almost two, I had never even laid eyes on you so in my mind I told myself that Alana would be good to you. That since she did something so despicable she must have really wanted a child. I told myself that Kit every day, I told myself that to keep from going insane for real. I had to keep telling myself everything would be okay if you were with Alana. Lord knows the woman had the money to take care of you better than I could. That’s what I told myself.
“But then when Morty and I got married, he asked me where I’d like to go on a honeymoon. I chose L.A. He brought me back here and I got to see you for the first time. You were three years old by then. You were such a beautiful little girl, all blond with big green eyes just like mine. But your right arm was in a cast. I’ll never forget it. I asked you how you’d hurt yourself and you said…” She stopped long enough to blow her nose into a Kleenex. “You said that ‘the mean lady hurt you’ and I knew then, I knew Kit, I knew from that point on. I wanted to kidnap you, just grab you up and run, but Morty, of course, ever the lawyer, talked me out of it, convinced me to let the courts handle it. To get your father involved.
“I tracked down John in Ireland, told him what was happening. He promised me he’d do something. But he didn’t. Oh, he’d petition the court every now and then, go through the motions for a while, but then when it came right down to it, Alana would promise the incidents were isolated or that he was exaggerating the extent of your injuries, and she’d keep financing his next picture. She bought him off, Kit.”
By this time the tears were trailing down Kit’s face. She sniffed. “Oh Gloria I always suspected it was something like that, because he’d make promises to me, too and then back down, give in to her every single time, and he’d always take me back to her.”
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, sorrier than you will ever know.”
“We can’t change the past Gloria, you said so yourself. Jake said something to me the other day about going forward from this moment on. That’s what we’ll do Gloria, from this day forward, we’ll start over as mother and daughter.
“You know, when I was little I used to wish that you were my mother. Of course, for a time there, I also did that with Maya, the Boyd housekeeper.”
She smiled with a twinkle in her eye before going on, “But I wished more often and harder that you would fill that role. And now, you’re my mother. It’s like I’ve been granted a wish after years of wishing on a star. You were always like my fairy godmother, you know, showing up at the worst possible times to help me out, make things better.”
“I missed everything though, those years I’ll never be able to get back, your first steps…” Her voice trailed off in a broken whisper.
“Hush now. Don’t think about it. We’ll make up for it Glo, somehow, someway, we’ll make up for it. Maybe with grandchildren, how would that be?”
“Oh Kit, I could only dream and hope for this kind of reaction from you. You’re the sweetest angel. I thought you’d hate me.”
“I couldn’t. Will you do me a favor?”
“Go check on Pepper today. Stop by the vet’s. Let me know how he is. I mean Jake hasn’t left my side long enough to do it. I’m worried about Pepper.”
“I stopped at the vet’s this morning, but I’ll stop by and check on him on my way home. You do realize, honey, that Pepper may need to stay at the vet’s for some time, don’t you?”
She sighed. “I know. I just hope he’ll make a full recovery. What are you doing here so early, anyway?”
“I woke up at three o’clock—couldn’t get back to sleep. So I drove here to sit with you for a while.”
Kit caught the time and sat up straighter. Was it possible? Casually, she asked, “Bad dream?”
“Oh, it’s just this recurring dream I’ve been having off and on over the years. It hasn’t surfaced for quite some time. But since Alana died I’ve been having it every night, waking up at exactly…”
“Three minutes past three.” The hairs on the back of Kit’s neck stood up and chills shuddered down her arms to her fingertips.
Gloria looked shocked. “How do you know that?”
“Because since the night we got back from sailing, the day the boat blew up I’ve been having a nightmare that wakes me up at three minutes past three about an old couple who lived in the Hollywood Hills on a place called the Sundown Ranch. How much detail do you see, Glo?”
“When I first started having the dream I’d just turned fifteen, there wasn’t much detail to it, just like two people stumbling around in the fog, a misty scene hard to make out sometimes. But for the past week, the details have gotten clearer, more vivid.”
“Vivid as in color or black and white?”
“Like an old black and white movie. I see their car drive up to the house. I see how they get inside. The killers use their own key, so it was someone that knew the old couple, someone they trusted. I see them stumble around in the dark, turn on the lamp, go to the kitchen, take out the knife from a drawer. Then one of them creeps along the hallway to the bedroom where the couple’s sleeping, while the other one stays in the kitchen loading some kind of a gun. Then the one with the gun comes into the room and just starts shooting.”
Kit picked up the rest. “After the couple’s dead, the one with the knife stabs them, uses their blood to write the words PIG, DEATH, and DIE on the walls of the bedroom. Afterwards, they go back into the kitchen to celebrate with a bottle of champagne.”
“What? They do what? I don’t see that. That’s just horrible.”
“I told Jake about it. Because of the graffiti on the walls, he thought the whole thing sounded similar to the Manson murders.”
“Oh my God, I remember that. I’ve been having this dream for so long I didn’t see the similarity. Of course, it’s like that. How could I not have seen that? But why would I be dreaming about the Manson murders, why this particular old couple?”
Kit told her about her theory that the murders were a copycat of the more famous murders and that she believed the killers were Alana and Jessica.
Gloria was so stunned she had to sit back down. “Some psychic I am. What does it all mean?”
“I don’t know. Without proof, who on earth is going to believe us?”
CHAPTER 25
Two days later, Kit left the confinement of the hospital after claustrophobia descended. She wouldn’t stay cooped up in that hospital room a minute longer. She had to break outside, lap up some sun and breathe fresh air again no matter how much Quinn wanted her to stay until she was ready to face St. John. And Kit was equally resistant to Jake’s plan to whisk her out of town for security reasons. She simply turned a deaf ear to his fears and suggested she recoup on the boat.
If Collin hadn’t tried to kill her, taking her to the boat to recover might have been a great idea. But taking her to such an exposed place, out in the open where Collin might reach the boat from the water, was risky. Jake tried reason, logic, and common sense. But Kit refused to budge. She wanted to recover on the boat.
Granted, he’d wanted to cave the minute he’d taken one look at her sorry state. She still had stitches in her head. And the purple and yellowish bruises still covered most of her body. But what really had him giving in was when he’d looked into her pleading green eyes and fell into their depths. Against his better judgment, he’d thrown in the towel right then and let her have her way.
He promised himself he wouldn’t keep her locked up like Alana had done. If Kit couldn’t have the freedom to come and go, to enjoy life outside, she’d feel as if she might already be in a jail cell. And since that was exactly where St. John intended to put her, Jake refused to treat her like a prisoner.
But just because he’d given in, didn’t mean he was happy about it.
Looking over at Kit wearing a bright red bikini, stretched out in a deck chair enjoying the sights and sounds of the marina, his mouth watered. But he had no intentions of acting so carelessly. Taking the chair across from her, he rigidly watched her like a hawk for any signs she might be in pain.
After so many days pent up, and with so many people around them at the hospital, Kit was aware that for the first time in days they were truly alone. On the trip to San Madrid, she’d felt that pull in the belly at the idea of getting him naked. Despite the bruises and soreness, her body revved with a sexual energy as she recalled what terrific things he could do with his mouth, things she yearned for. Her juices went slick in anticipation.
As hungry gulls bomb-dived for their supper, as the water gently slapped the sides of the boat, one glance at Jake told her he had no intentions of making a move toward her that way. Still dressed in his Dockers and Polo shirt, he sat stiffly watching her as if she might explode any second.
So it was up to her.
She patted the chair next to her and suggested, “Why don’t you come over here and sit beside me?”
He stared at her through the sunglasses he wore, but said nothing as he stood up, moved to oblige and sit down next to her.
“Aren’t you hot in all those clothes?” She all but purred the question, as she watched a single brow arch over his dark glasses in response. When she awkwardly leaned toward him, he continued to stare without uttering a word. Determined, Kit fanned her face. “Why don’t you take off some of those clothes so you’ll be…cooler and I’ll get to see …all of you.” Reaching up with her good left hand, she took hold of the back of his neck, brought his mouth down to hers. She tugged on his bottom lip before opening her mouth, drawing in his tongue. Feverishly, she gave him a wet kiss then tried to lift her injured right arm to put her other hand around his neck―and shrieked in pain.
Patiently, he gently lifted her right arm and put it back down on the chair, placed both hands down on either side of her. “You’re in no shape to be fooling around. And I tried to tell you not to remove that sling from your shoulder, but you wouldn’t listen. It’s there for a reason. You need rest and sleep to get your body to recoup. Now behave yourself.”
“You just think you’re so smart don’t you, Mr. I Know Everything. I’ve been sleeping for five days until I’m loopy. I’ve been cooped up inside. It’s such a beautiful day. I don’t want to behave. I want to feel alive, make love. Make love with me, Jake. I want to feel you inside me.”
“You’re getting bitchy, honey.”
“I’m not bitchy. I’m just…can I help it if my juices are revved. Don’t you want me?”
He sighed. “Kit, if I touch just one of those bruises, I’m liable to hurt you. The last thing I want to do is to put you in any more pain.”
“It hurts no matter what activity I do, so why not do something I really enjoy, one we both enjoy. How about if I show you where it doesn’t hurt, how would that be?” She cocked her head, took one of his hands in hers, and placed it on her breast. With her fingers on top of his she started kneading her breasts using his fingers. Soon he was rubbing her breasts for real through the fabric. “Kiss me, touch me, Jake. When you touch me, I feel so alive.”
“Woman, you are killing me here. I’d like nothing better than to get you out of that bikini, but I might hurt you.” Then he saw the wounded look in her eyes and gave in, again. As his mouth covered hers, his arms moved under her to carry her below deck. “We’re doing this in a bed. I’m not giving the damned nosy neighbors an eyeful they’ll be talking about at the Book & Bean.”
“Let them talk. It’ll increase business.”
“You say that now, but when I rip off this bikini, they’ll whisper about it with awe in their voice.”
“You like my bikini.” It wasn’t a question.
“What’s not to like,” he said, as he gently laid her on the bed. “In about two seconds, you aren’t going to be wearing it.”
“Show me.”
Twenty minutes later she was still lying on top of him, with his arms rubbing up and down her back, when he said, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.” Her shoulder was killing her. But she played along with the teasing tone when she asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“I think I might have a couple of bruises myself.”
“Poor baby.”
“I’m not complaining.”
She kissed his mouth, whispered softly, “You have a gentle touch, Mr. Boston. I feel safe when I’m in your arms, safer than I’ve ever felt before.” In one motion she swung off of him, rolled over to reach her bag on the floor, dug around until she found a prescription bottle, and poured out a blue pill into her palm. She downed it with a couple of sips of bottled water from the nightstand.
He sat up. “I did hurt you.”
“It’s nothing. Just so I don’t embarrass myself though I’m taking a nap. I’m not sure Baylee and Quinn will ever let me live down the day Gloria ‘fessed up and I was blitzed. And poor Dylan, after our drama, Quinn said he practically ran from the room like a man possessed trying to get as far away from the hysterical females as he could.”
“We were all worried that you’d be so upset you’d have a setback. But then we got there and you were…giddy as hell. I bet you’re a fun drunk.”
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