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Authors: Lisa Jackson,Nancy Bush

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Crime, #Psychological

Wicked Game (13 page)

BOOK: Wicked Game
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Eventually, Renee wound down with, “The whole area has a kind of small-town mentality, which has been great. It’s hell staying at the house with Tim now, so I do it as little as possible. I wish he’d just move out.” She rubbed her temple with two fingers as if just talking about her husband gave her a headache.

“This isn’t why you wanted to talk to me,” Becca said into the sudden silence. She pushed her cheese and fruit plate toward Renee. “Have some.”

She waved off the offering. “Got a weird stomach thing going on. I know, I know, coffee’s not good, either, but I want to stay awake; I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping at night. All this stuff with Tim. I have to be sharp to drive to the coast. There’s been snow in the pass and I don’t do chains. Period.”

“Uh-huh.”

Renee took a breath, held it a moment, then released it slowly. “You know…it’s…kind of surprising…what you can stumble across. Like fate’s intervened. I’m not trying to sound like Tamara,” she added quickly. “It’s just, working on Jessie’s story and then having that skeleton appear at St. Lizzie’s.” She hesitated. “It would be nice to have a source in the police department to find out, y’know?”

Becca nodded.

Renee made a face. “Sometimes…well, this is going to sound strange because I really do want to write that story, but sometimes I wonder if we should really open Pandora’s box. Maybe we should let bad things lie. Go with the Sitka spruce nostalgia and leave digging into graves alone.”

“You were the one who called the meeting at Blue Note,” Becca reminded her in surprise.

“I know. I’m not giving up.” She ran her hands through her short, dark hair. “I don’t know why I’m going back and forth on this.” She switched gears and, frowning at herself, picked up a small wedge of Edam cheese. “I guess I can try this.” She took an experimental bite. “So tell me more about your trip to the maze.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Becca dutifully described her trip to St. Elizabeth’s, including the moment when she felt there was something there, something…if not evil, certainly not good. Renee listened attentively and Becca finished with, “I don’t want to sound crazy or anything. It was raining and hailing and windy, and I was probably more susceptible than usual. But it was more than that. I really felt like I wasn’t alone.”

“Did you think Jessie was there?”

Becca shot her a look to determine whether she was patronizing her, but Renee appeared totally serious as she blew across her cup, then took a swallow of coffee. “No. Not Jessie.”

“Who, then?”

“No one, I guess. No one I saw, anyway. It was just a feeling, and maybe I was just too susceptible. The atmosphere: the dark, the maze, the Madonna. It spooked me.”

“You don’t have to make excuses,” Renee said. “I believe you. I’ve had some experiences that weren’t…explainable.” She glanced to her side, to make certain the trio of women on their second glasses of wine weren’t eavesdropping. They were too caught up in their own conversation to give a second glance Becca and Renee’s way.

“Like what?” Becca asked, prodding.

Renee hesitated. “I know we’ve never been the closest of friends. Maybe that’s more my fault than yours, but…this should be all in the past now.” She narrowed her gaze, seemed to want to say something again, then thought better of it. Finally, she added, “Sometimes I have a feeling of persecution. Like someone’s after me. But then, I’ve written a few articles that have really pissed some people off, so maybe they are!”

She laughed and Becca saw the resemblance between Renee and Hudson’s humor for the first time. “Do you think, like Tamara, that Jessie might still be alive?” Becca asked.

“Oh, no. Those are Jessie’s bones,” she stated positively, her demeanor instantly sobering as she polished off the cheese. “I’m sure she’s dead. Long dead.” She peered at Becca. “I was told she was.”

“By who?”

“A crazy old woman who believes she can read the future.” She smiled faintly.

“Oh.” Becca watched her slowly spin her cup again. “You think it could have been just an accident?”

As if suddenly remembering what her cup was for, Renee brought it to her lips and took a long swallow. “Maybe Evangeline was right. Maybe Jessie was planning to run away. She said bad things were coming her way. Trouble. She wasn’t kidding around, you know, like she sometimes did. Well, like she did a lot, actually. But this time I don’t think she was joking. She meant it. She said, ‘Trouble’s going to find me.’”

“She said that to you?”

Renee nodded and Becca realized she was revealing one of her last, if not her very last, conversations with Jessie. “You told that cop what she said?”

“McNally? Are you kidding? I wasn’t going to tell him anything.” Renee shook her head at the memory. “I was too freaked. I did say she probably ran away again, because that’s what I really thought. I wasn’t going to tell them what our last conversation was. I kind of thought it was sacred, at the time. I was sixteen,” she reminded Becca with faint irony. “Jessie was my friend and I wanted to protect her, I guess. Her parents were kind of weird. Do you remember?”

Becca shook her head. “Jessie and I were more like acquaintances.”

Renee cocked an eyebrow. “You were connected to Tamara the most, right? You were in the class below us…?” She left it as a question because at St. Elizabeth’s, like high schools everywhere, students tended to stick with their own classmates as if there were invisible fences between the grades.

“Tamara and I had a class together,” Becca said. “We worked on a couple of projects as a team and got to know each other.” This was practically a lie, but Becca didn’t know whether she could admit that she’d worked hard on that friendship. All so she could be part of their group, so she could be nearer to Hudson. It was all so juvenile and downright embarrassing now! She could even feel her face heating and she took a swig of her water, hoping to hide her reaction.

“Did you like my brother even then?”

Becca opened her mouth to respond, thought better of it, then gave Renee a sideways look. All she saw on Hudson’s sister’s face was mild interest, so Becca gave her a jerky nod. “Yeah. High school crush.” She picked up a small orange slice and bit into it.

“I thought so. Jessie certainly thought so, too, and she believed Hudson returned your feelings. Maybe he did.”

“Nothing ever happened between us.”

“Not until after high school,” Renee agreed. “What about now?”

“What?”

“You still interested?”

“In Hudson?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m really not looking to get involved with anyone right now,” she answered carefully. “My experience with men has been…less than stellar.”

“Kind of a nonanswer,” Renee observed, then waved the air as if dismissing the entire subject. “All I’m saying is that I’m not sure Jessie believed that you and Hudson didn’t have a thing going in high school. I think she might have retaliated. She certainly tried to stir up Hudson’s jealousy, but he doesn’t work that way.”

“We definitely
didn’t
have ‘a thing’ going. Hudson never even looked at me.”

Renee lifted a disbelieving eyebrow, but let the subject go. “You know, Jessie’s parents acted…really worried…I mean, before she disappeared. I’d just been to their house the week before and had dinner and Jessie was acting oddly then, too. More oddly than normal, that is. She must have known she was getting ready to run again, and I think it bothered her, how much it hurt her parents. But she just couldn’t help herself. If I have a feeling of persecution now, she
really
had it then. Like something was at her heels and she was trying to keep one step ahead of it.”

Becca thought about the feeling that someone was after her at the maze and about the vision of Jessie on the cliff trying to warn her of…of what? “Have any idea what it was that was chasing her?”

“God knows. Jessie sure didn’t. And her parents didn’t. They were in a state over her disappearance, almost as if they knew this time was different. Like they were scared. I saw them when Mac, the detective, was talking to them, and yeah, they were worried sick, but more than that, they were terrified.” She shook her head. “And the only thing Jessie said to me—I mean before she disappeared, when she was talking all weird—was that it was about justice, like maybe it was payback for something? I wished I’d quizzed her on it more, but what did I know? She kept saying she had to keep on the move and I thought it was a ruse, like it had been before, a play for attention. That’s what Jessie was all about, being the center of the universe. More than most teenagers. Anyway, that’s what I’ve concluded, after thinking about it all these years.”

“You think whatever she was running from caught up to her, before she could leave?”

Renee half laughed. “I don’t really know what I’m talking about. But I do think those are Jessie’s remains. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

“Will we? So maybe they get some DNA. Can they match it to Jessie’s?”

“Well, or dental impressions, I suppose. Those are bound to be on record, aren’t they?” Becca asked.

Renee shrugged. “And when the police learn, are they going to tell us? Or are we all suspects again? I hate to agree with The Third, but if the case opens up we’re all going to be under scrutiny, especially Hudson.”

Becca didn’t like thinking about that.

Renee drained the rest of her coffee, then shot an assessing look at Becca, as if she were debating on something.

“What?” Becca asked.

“I’ve been remembering a lot of little things lately. Forcing myself, I guess, at first because of the story, and now, I don’t know…” She drew a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “I really want that story, but…I’ve gotten these warnings.”

“Warnings?”

“From the old woman I mentioned earlier.”

“A Tarot reader?”

“Sort of.” She seemed about to add something else, then hesitated. “This wasn’t Tamara’s friend.”

“I got that.”

“I went to the beach and I was asking about Jessie around Deception Bay. Do you know it?” When Becca shook her head, she said, “It’s this little town. Quaint. Kind of…tired feeling.”

“Why did you go there?”

“The Brentwoods have a house there. I thought maybe that’s where Jessie was from? Originally? I was staying around the area anyway, so I started asking questions and I got connected to this psychic lady. But when I met with her, all she did was make me feel like I was angering the gods or something. Seeing her was a mistake. She just played on my fears—fears I didn’t know I had.”

Becca nodded, waiting for her to go on.

Renee didn’t seem to quite know how to proceed, then said, “I know you and Jessie weren’t the closest of friends. Maybe because of Hudson, maybe something else, but how well do you remember her? I mean really remember her?”

I saw her in a vision.
“She had blond-brown hair—long—and was pretty.” Becca finished her wine. “I remember that she dated Hudson and that she was kinda hard to pin down.”

“Like you.”

“Not like me,” Becca said quickly.

“Maybe not exactly. But sort of, don’t you think?”

Where is this coming from?
“Jessie was secretive and remote. I hope I’m not like that. Do you think I’m like that?”

“No…I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Shrugging, she said, “Jessie always had a blithe remark. A throwaway comment. You couldn’t get close to her. Yeah, she was full of secrets, but then she could be so blunt, too. And Vangie was right that Jessie just knew things. She was precognitive. She had feelings about things and they came true. A number of times.”

“Like a feeling of persecution?”

“Well, maybe…and you had those visions, didn’t you?” Renee reminded her and Becca felt her face grow hot.

“I’d hoped people had forgotten.”

“Maybe they have. But at the time it was the kind of thing that ran like wildfire through the school. A rumor with a life of its own. I never knew just how much was fact or fiction.”

“I used to have them,” Becca answered slowly. The vision of Jessie practically burned behind her eyeballs, but she couldn’t bring it up. Not now. Not yet. Not until she understood Renee’s interest.

“Not anymore?”

“No.”

She inclined her head. “Well, anyway, sound like a nut job, don’t I? I hear myself talking like there’s some—evil out to get me, and can’t believe I just said that. Forget it. This whole thing with finding Jessie’s bones is making me jump at shadows and find meaning in things that aren’t there. Dumb. Oh, screw this. I need a glass of wine.” Scooting out her chair, she looked disgusted with herself, then walked to the counter and paid for a glass of Chardonnay. Taking a sip as she returned, Renee said, “That’s more like it.”

“Was this the ‘odd’ something you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah.” She drank half her glass and shook her head. “I can’t tell you how all of this…whatever the hell it is has taken its toll. I’m jumping at shadows, second-guessing everything. And looking over my shoulder, like someone’s following me.”

“That’s how I felt in the maze,” Becca said.

“Oh, right.” She paused. “Maybe we’re both just letting atmosphere take over reason.”

Becca thought about that and was about to confess that she’d had a vision of Jessie on the very day that she’d learned about the grisly discovery at St. Elizabeth’s, but she didn’t get the chance. Renee tossed back another gulp of wine, glanced at her watch, and scowled. “Oh, God, it’ll be almost ten when I get there if I don’t leave now.” She swept up her purse and got to her feet in one swift motion. “Keep in touch,” she said brightly, but there was something about the way she hurried through the door that made Becca think Renee had no intention of following her own words.

 

What the hell was it about Rebecca Ryan Sutcliff? Renee asked herself as she punched the accelerator of her Camry and slid through an amber light just before it turned red. She was headed west, ever west, merging onto Sunset Highway, a section of Highway 26.

You’re running away,
her mind insisted over the pain of a headache that was pounding at the base of her skull. “No,” she answered herself aloud as she flipped on her blinker and passed a yokel in an ancient truck that refused to go over forty, a truck not too many years newer than the pickup her father used to drive. She wasn’t running
away
from anything, she was running
to
what promised to be a new life; one that didn’t include her husband Tim and the
Valley Star.

BOOK: Wicked Game
4.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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