Anabel Unraveled

by Amanda Romine Lynch

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Information

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  About the Author

  Anabel Unraveled

  By Amanda Romine Lynch

  Copyright © 2012 by Amanda Romine Lynch

  Cover Copyright 2012 by eLectio Publishing

  Cover Design by Jesse S. Greever and Chad Thomas Johnston

  The authors are hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (eLectio Publishing) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold, reproduced or transmitted by any means in any form or given away to other people without specific permission from the author and/or publisher. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to your eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  eLectio Publishing wishes to thank the following people who helped make these publications possible through their generous contributions:

  Chuck & Connie Greever

  Jay Hartman

  Darrel & Kimberly Hathcock

  Tamera Jahnke

  Amanda Lynch

  Pamela Minnick

  James & Andrea Norby

  Gwendolyn Pitts

  Margie Quillen

  Other titles from eLectio Publishing:

  Tales of the Taylor: Songs that Changed the World by Ethan D. Bryan

  Learning to Give in a Getting World by Marcus R. Farnell, Jr. and Jesse S. Greever

  At the Back of His Mind by T. Marcus Christian

  The Wall & Beyond by Joanna Kurowska

  Drunk Dialing the Divine by Amber Koneval

  The Advent of the Messiah: Finding Peace, Love, Joy, and Hope in a Modern World by Tony Turner

  More From Life: 99 Truths to Understand and Live By by Christopher C. Dixon

  Living to Give in a Getting World by Marcus R. Farnell, Jr. and Jesse S. Greever

  Visit us at www.eLectioPublishing.com to find out more about our authors and titles.

  For Carly

  Acknowledgments

  I have been so blessed with the love and support of my family and friends. Without them, this book wouldn’t exist.

  To Jon, who didn’t blink an eye when I informed him I wanted to quit my job and write a book, I appreciate your love and faith in me more than I can say.

  To Carly Leotti, who has been with me for pretty much every step of the writing process—thank you. I love you.

  To my parents, brother, and sister—thank you for always believing in me.

  To Nicholas and Noah—thank you for sleeping so Mommy could work on her book.

  To Chad Thomas Johnston—your enthusiasm for my writing and total willingness to help me means so much to me. You are a great friend¸and Becki and Evie are lucky to have you.

  To Jennifer Harris Dault, my fantastic editor—you are a rock star.

  To Ian Makay—thank you for being a shoulder I could lean on, cry on, and take out my frustrations on.

  And to the rest of the Dessert Islanders—Landra Graf, Jacqueline Wilson, Jennifer Luitweiler, and Liza Hawkins—thank you for your consistent love and support.

  Chapter 1—Anabel

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I am an orphan.

  I can’t say that. I shook my head and sighed, pivoting slowly in front of the mirror, taking in my hair, my legs, my dress. My blue eyes looked sullen in the mirror, and I wondered if nineteen was too old to be considered an orphan. Does it count if you’ve never known your mother, and your father was emotionally unavailable for your whole life?

  “Stand up straight,” I heard a voice say from behind me. I closed my eyes, ready for the lecture.

  I turned and grimaced at my brother, Sam, who is more than twice my age. He studied me, taking in everything about my appearance. Being next to him, all stylish in his suit with his well-groomed hair, made me and my obnoxious curls feel wild and savage. “Standing up straight isn’t going to hide it, Sam.”

  “No, but it’s the best we can do for now.” He came and kissed my forehead, and pulled me into a hug. “It will be okay, sweetie.” Then he turned and said, “Meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?”

  He paused at the door. “You know, there are ways around this, Anabel. It’s not too late.”

  I rounded on him. “If you suggest that ever again, I’ll tell everyone. Those will be the first words out of my mouth, Sam. I promise you.”

  “Take it easy,” he soothed. “I just wanted to remind you . . .”

  I gave him a stiff nod, and he exited the room.

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I ruined my brother’s life.

  The fact that Sam is treating me with such tenderness is wreaking havoc on my sense of right and wrong, and truthfully, if I were in his position, I don’t think I would be behaving as wonderfully to him as he is me.

  But then again, my brother is almost a saint, whereas I have a dark spot on my soul.

  I sat down on my bed that wasn’t really mine and stared at my shoes. They were some designer, Steve Madden, I guess. I had never bought my own clothes and proved to be a horror to my sister-in-law, who had been forced to spend time with me and fix me up with a wardrobe. Taking me shopping was the only thing that we had done together since I moved in with her and Sam, and I hadn’t impressed her when I informed her that I did not know the difference between Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren. When we had finally settled on the Gap, she had thrown her hands up in disgust and waited outside until I called her, needing the credit card.

  She doesn’t like me. I haven’t been allowed outside much because nobody likes me due to the fact that I am the sole reason that my brother resigned from office. So far, my social interactions have included him, my sister-in-law, and the rotating bodyguards who all look the same and barely acknowledge me. Sometimes I see my doctor, but he has to make house calls, so those times are rare.

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I am very much alone.

  Alexis barged in. She’s beautiful—gorgeous, really—and like my brother, also twice my age. She stared at me, judging, and then said, “You look okay, but you need some makeup.”

  “I don’t know how to put it on,” I mumbled.

  She let out a frustrated noise which was a cross between a groan and a wail
, and immediately attacked me with powder and eye shadow. I tolerated this invasion as best I could, but when she tried to assault me with an eyelash curler I pushed her away. “It’s too much.”

  “Everyone does this, Anabel,” she snapped. “You’re ready. Grab your coat and go with Sam.”

  I glared back at her. “I think it’s ridiculous you are making me wear a trench coat in September.”

  “Deal with it,” she sniffed, and turned on her heel and headed toward the door. She paused to look at me and say, “Watch what you say, and whatever you do—”

  “Do not talk to Jared Sorensen,” I chorused with her. “As if I’d forgotten.”

  She nodded. “You don’t want to hurt your brother any more than you already have, do you?”

  “No, Alexis.” I pulled the green coat around me.

  “Have a good day then,” she said crisply.

  “Yes, Alexis.” I wondered if she caught the edge of sarcasm, but she nodded her blonde head and left.

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I hate my life.

  I made my way down the stairs and Sam shot me a warm smile of approval. “You look lovely.”

  “Alexis fixed me,” I announced. Flanked by Nate and Henry and their earpieces, we walked down the steps and got into the Lincoln Town Car.

  The ride to the Capitol Building was a blur. It consisted of me staring at my shoes and my brother clearing his throat. Finally he began, “Look, Annie—”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” I closed my eyes.

  “I’m your brother, I have to.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.” Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, this will go away.

  “Try not to talk to him,” he cautioned. “Nobody has gotten wind of what happened with you two yet, and I want to keep that under wraps as long as we can.”

  I opened my eyes and nodded, trying to keep my face as impassive as possible, even though my brother was lying. There were all sorts of rumors flying about the two of us. I stared out the window and swore to myself that I was not going to cry, because crying would probably result in Sam causing some sort of physical harm to Jared, and with his temper, that could include anything from punching him to disemboweling him. While that would be slightly entertaining to watch, it probably wouldn’t be good for PR.

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I am very bad for PR.

  “So what are you going to say?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I managed a thin smile. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about this morning. I guess it will just come.”

  The car sidled up in front of the Capitol Building. There were a million people there, with their eyes, cameras, and microphones all trained on our car. I looked at Sam, stricken. “You promised we would have a quiet entrance.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry. We’ll do this quick, okay? I just need you to put in an appearance and look normal. Look Annie, the rumors are that you aren’t okay, and I just need you to smile at the cameras and play the game for me a little, please?”

  I stared at him. Sam was the consummate politician: he always had a smile and a wave for the crowds, despite any inner turmoil. I was not similarly gifted. Still, I’d do just about anything for him—so I composed my face and nodded.

  Sam looked at Nate, who muttered something into his mouthpiece and opened the door. I stepped out into the bright sunlight and immediately was mobbed. Desperately clutching Sam’s arm, we walked through the masses of press people and TV cameras, and I smiled like a doll and ignored the barrage of questions bombarding us from every direction. I had no idea what anyone said to me, I merely gave the big plastic grin and stared straight ahead. I had to give Nate and Henry credit; somehow they navigated us through the mob in one piece. The hearing was thankfully closed to the press, and when the doors were shut behind us, I stared at my brother in disbelief. “Do you have to deal with this every day?”

  He smiled at me, and it was genuine. “Well, one of the perks of resigning from office is not as many people are interested in me anymore.”

  “I disagree,” I rejoined, mirroring his smile.

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I am a phony.

  “Excuse me for one second, okay?” I nodded at him, and he moved to talk to some guy in the back of the room. It was pretty much like the hearing rooms I had seen on TV: an empty table above all the others for the members of Congress, benches much like in a courtroom, and two tables in the front for testimony. I meandered down the aisle, looking at the chairs, the random people, until my eyes fell upon a familiar face, one that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

  She was sitting at a table in the front of the room, her long purple skirt falling demurely around her ankles. Her red hair was starting to go gray, I noticed. She looked soft, womanly, motherly, and I wanted nothing more than to throw my head onto her lap and cry my eyes out.

  She was Marilyn Jessamyn, my nanny, governess, babysitter, and the closest thing to a mother that I had ever had. Her hazel eyes smiled up at me. “Anabel?”

  “Miss Marilyn!” I shrieked, causing everyone else in the room to turn their heads and stare. But I didn’t care. As she stood up, I sprang into her arms. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  “Sweetheart, you don’t need to call me ‘Miss Marilyn’ anymore.” There were tears welling in her eyes. “You look gorgeous.”

  I smiled. “You’re just saying that. It’s very kind of you to lie.”

  “No, I’m serious. You’re practically glowing, you look so lovely!” Although I stood a bit taller than she, she reached up and smoothed my hair. “I guess DC life is suiting you, huh?”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact with you,” I lamented. “I haven’t been allowed to talk to anyone. Sam and Alexis and all of their legal team are petrified I am going to say something wrong.”

  She frowned. “What could you possibly say?”

  A lot, actually, but I feigned innocence. “I don’t know, but every word that does come out of my mouth makes Alexis glare at Sam and hurl angry French curse words at me.”

  “Oh, my,” she said, with laughter in her eyes.

  “I wish I was making that up, I really do.” I beamed at her. “It’s incredible to see you! I’m surprised you are here though, they weren’t letting in anyone but those of us testifying and immediate family—” And then it dawned on me. “You’re here with Charlie, aren’t you?”

  “Oh honey, I wanted to tell you.” She extended her hand, and I saw the thin gold band. “We got married!”

  “That’s wonderful,” I managed, hugging her again. “Where is Charlie?”

  “Right here,” he said, coming up next to her. “Hello, Anabel.”

  “Hi Charlie,” I said, feeling shy. “It’s been a long time?” It came out as a question. I hadn’t meant it to.

  He pulled me to him, but I still felt awkward. I stepped back and offered, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m really, really happy for the two of you.”

  The both grinned lovingly at each other, and I was then spared from further discomfort by one of Sam’s many lawyers touching my elbow. “Miss Martin? They want you to sit over here.”

  I smiled at the two of them, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt, and followed Mr. Benson over to one of the tables in the front. He seated me next to Sam, who touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Marilyn and Charlie got married,” I told him.

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Are you my shrink now? I feel great about it. Fantastic. My father just died, why don’t we talk about that next?”

  Sam looked hurt, and I instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I’m just on edge.” I slumped back into my chair. “Please tell me that we’re not sitting anywhere near that vile Jared Sorensen.”

  “I missed you too, Anabel.”

  Open mouth, insert foot.

  “Get away from her, Sorensen,” snapped Sam, rising from his chair.

  “Bac
k off, Sam,” he said silkily. “I have no interest in upsetting your little sister.” He backed away and took a seat at the farthest end of the table. I tried to not look at him, but through many furtive glances I couldn’t help but take in his perfectly styled blonde hair, cool manner, and the suit that made him even better-looking than normal. My heart skipped a beat, and I scowled inwardly at myself. Now was not the time to lose my head. I’d lost enough to this man already. From then on, I kept my eyes focused on the floor, trying to calm the unsettling rage that was burning in my stomach.

  My name is Anabel Martin, and I want Jared Sorensen to die.

  A few more strangers wandered in, and then the members of Congress filed into their seats. Forgetting my resolve, I shot a sidelong glance at Jared, which he seemed to notice as he turned straightaway to focus on me. I averted my eyes and pretended to be concentrating on the table when Congresswoman Fischer brought the hearing to order.

  There was a moment of tenuous silence, and then she began, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. So that we are all clear, these hearings are to discuss the murder of Jonathan Martin on April 27th on the Caereon Storage Facility.”

  Oh no. DO NOT CRY. I took a steadying breath, and Sam put his arm around me.

  “I do not know,” Ms. Fischer went on, “what happened that night, but I am convinced that all of you have valuable information to present to the Committee. As the storage facility in Caereon is a government-run facility, the murder is a federal crime. While no charges have been filed against anyone here, it should be noted that anything you say in these hearings can and will be used against you in a court of law if the need arises. The testimony that all of you will be providing should take us back to your experiences on the island of Caereon. Leave out no relevant information.”

  She took off her glasses. “Anabel Martin, where are you?”

  I raised my hand. Ms. Fischer glanced at me. “Your brother has requested we let you go first due to some health issues?”

  I nodded. Jared cleared his throat at and stared rather pointedly, but I looked up, glassy-eyed, at Ms. Fischer.

  “Miss Martin. Please give your account of the events leading up to when Mr. Sorensen arrived on the island.”