Moments later, Rachel appeared in the doorway. In one hand she held the now opened bottle of wine, in the other the stainless steel chopsticks-designed by a well-known San Francisco artist-that Tim had given her for her birthday a few years before.
“Wicked-looking sticks.” She tapped them together. “Very cool.”
“They were a gift. From my ex. He loved sushi.”
“Typical man. Gives you a gift of something he loves.”
“I never thought of it that way before.”
“Now you have, so you won’t make that mistake again.” Rachel made her way back into the living room. “Speaking of mistakes, I want to hear all about him.”
“Tim?”
“Yes, him.” Rachel refilled their glasses, then sat cross-legged on the floor.
Alex held up her glass. “Speaking of my ex, he’ll be so jealous when I tell him about this wine. It’s spectacular.”
“It should be. It’s a limited production reserve. A really good vintage. From my private cellar.” She tapped the chopsticks together. “I take it you still talk to your ex.”
“I still sleep with him sometimes.” Alex slapped a hand over her mouth, acknowledging that she needed to stop drinking now. “I can’t believe I shared that.”
Rachel giggled. “Tell me about him.”
Alex did. She shared how they met, why they divorced and about their current relationship. Rachel followed suit, and as the evening progressed and the bottle emptied, they talked, at times as giggly as teenagers, at others fiercely serious.
Alex discovered they had similar beliefs and political views, the same sense of humor. Likes and dislikes. Sometime during the passing hours, it occurred to Alex how alike they were for two people who didn’t share blood.
Or maybe they did. Maybe Harlan Sommer really was her father? She started to wonder it aloud, then decided against it. As close as she felt to Rachel at this moment, she was uncertain how the woman would respond to the question.
Rachel frowned suddenly. “Where’s your ring?”
Alex looked at her naked hand. “Reed took it.”
“Reed took it?” she repeated, words slurring slightly. “Why?”
“He said he needed it for the investigation.”
Rachel leaned against the couch, legs stretched out on the floor in front of her. She’d long ago taken off her boots. She wiggled her stocking-clad toes. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Alex blinked, simultaneously realizing two things: she was completely inebriated and she couldn’t feel her tongue. “What d’you mean?”
“Max killed himself. Right?”
She nodded. “Right.”
“What could your ring have t’do with that?”
Alex gazed at her, struggling to think clearly. “That’s why I was there. T’see if he’d designed it.”
“I’m just saying, Reed’s got some other reason to hold on to it.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Hell if I know.” Rachel looked down at her empty glass and giggled. “Wine’s gone. S’pose I should go now.”
“O’no you’re not.” Alex got unsteadily to her feet. At least the room wasn’t spinning-yet. “What kind of sister would I be if I let you drive now? You’re sleepin’ on th’couch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Thursday, March 11
4:55 A.M.
They wore hooded robes. She struggled to see their faces, but couldn’t. The robes concealed their bodies as well. Even so, she recognized them as male. Sensed their violent arousal.
The circle tightened around her. A drumming beat filled her head. She looked wildly around, fighting panic. Looking for an escape. A way out.
Suddenly, she was in a forest. Crouching in underbrush. Someone was speaking. Threatening, the voice high, feminine. No, male. Angry. She struggled to make out the words. To understand. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t make sense of it. The words were garbled, nonsense.
An acrid scent stung her nose. Sandalwood. She couldn’t breathe, let alone scream. But screaming, she knew, was the only way out.
Scream, Alex… Scream-
Alex sat bolt upright in bed, eyes snapping open as her scream echoed off the walls.
Her bedroom door flew open. Light tumbled in. “Alex? Are you all right?”
She blinked, confused, still trapped in the circle of men.
“Alex, honey, you screamed.”
Rachel. The night before. She’d stayed.
“A nightmare,” Alex managed, gathering the sheet and blanket to her chin. She realized she was trembling. “I… I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Waking me wasn’t the problem, scaring the crap out of me was.”
Alex reached for her bedside lamp and snapped it on. “Shit. Sorry.”
Rachel crossed to the bed and sat on the corner. “You want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “I just want to forget it.”
“Okay, no problem.” Expression hurt, Rachel started to stand.
Alex caught her hand. “I have nightmares. I’ve had them all my life. They come and go. Right now, I’m in a bad patch. That’s all.”
Rachel squeezed her hand in acknowledgment of what it had cost Alex to share. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You weren’t. It’s just me, I-” Alex smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry I blasted you out of bed.”
Rachel returned the smile. “What a pair we are. You going back to sleep?”
Alex glanced at the clock. “What’s the point? It’s almost five anyway.”
“I’ll make coffee?”
“That sounds like heaven. Everything’s in the cabinet above the pot. I’ll be right out.”
Alex took a minute to throw on sweats and brush her teeth. She found Rachel in the kitchen, back in the clothes she had worn over the night before, staring at the coffee as it dripped into the carafe.
“Slowest coffeepot on earth,” Alex murmured.
“I see that.” She looked over at Alex. “How’s your head this morning?”
“Hurting, though it could have been worse. How about yours?”
“It’s punishing me for my excesses. But I had it coming.”
Alex smiled. “Coffee will help.”
“I’ve never suffered with nightmares, I’m happy to say.”
“One of those who sleeps like a baby? I’m seriously jealous.”
Rachel laughed. “Now, I didn’t say that. I’ve got my own demons, nightmares just don’t happen to be one of them.”
Demons, Alex thought. She would bet she had them.
“Do you really want to hear about my nightmare?”
“Only if you want to share.”
“I need food first.”
Working together, they whipped up some scrambled eggs and toast. Just as the meal came together, the coffeemaker burbled its last. They sat at the table and began to eat. Rachel didn’t hurry her or push, which Alex appreciated.
It was only after she had scraped the last bit of food from her plate and refilled her coffee cup that she began.
“Like I said, I’ve had nightmares for years. As far back as I can remember. Lots of the typical being chased and running for your life variety. But recently, they’re… different. More specific.”
“Like tonight’s?”
“Yes. Tonight I was surrounded by men. Trapped in the middle of their circle. I knew they were aroused and I felt threatened. Really afraid.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “My God. Could you see their faces?”
Alex shook her head. “They wore hooded robes. Dreams are like that, your subconscious plays a game of peek-a-boo with you.”
“They meant to rape you.”
“That’s the obvious interpretation. But dreams are rarely about the obvious. The men, the circle, not being able to see their faces, feeling trapped and threatened were all symbols for something else.”
“What?”
“Dunno. And this morning, I’m too tired to think about it.” She felt a little guilty at the half truth. The complete truth was, if it was Tim sitting across from her, hungover and exhausted or not, she would be eagerly digging in. She wasn’t ready to share her soul with Rachel. Their relationship was just too new.