Madeline? Becca stared at the old woman, who stared back. “You look like one of them,” the old woman whispered.
“Madeline,” the clerk reproved.
“One of who?” Hudson was just stepping through the front door.
Madeline’s head snapped up and she viewed Hudson with a furtive glare as he wove his way between the displays to stand next to Becca.
“Siren Song,” she whispered.
“Are you Madame Madeline?” Becca asked.
“Maddie!” The clerk was heading their way.
Instead of answering, Madeline placed her twisted fingers on Becca’s abdomen, then shrank away, quickly sketching a sign of the cross over her chest, then shuffling to the door.
“Did she take that button? Damn it!” The clerk stamped a small booted foot. “She always does that!” She started for the door, but Madeline was gone, through the door and hurrying off. “I should call the police, but for the most part she’s harmless.”
Becca was unnerved that she’d touched her abdomen. “Who is she?”
“Oh, yeah, she calls herself Madame Madeline. She pretends to be a psychic. She’s a town fixture, lived here all her life.”
“And what did she mean by Siren Song?” Hudson asked.
“It’s a tract of land run by…well, some locals. They mostly keep to themselves. The property is valuable, it stretches from the mountains on the east side of 101 and across the highway to the ocean. They’re this clannish group, like a colony, some even say cultish. Different, you know. All related.”
“Colony?” Hudson asked.
She smiled then and took a long look at Becca. “I see what Maddie means, though, you do resemble them…a little.”
“Them?” Becca felt a little weak in the knees. What the hell was all this? Maddie placing her hand over Becca’s stomach as if she knew she was pregnant, and then this talk of resembling members of a-cult?
“I’m not related,” she said firmly.
The woman didn’t argue with her, but did add, “This is the second time in the last few months that someone has asked about Siren Song. I’ve owned this shop for six and a half years. Before that I worked in one of the spas that closed, and I can go for months without anyone mentioning Siren Song, maybe years, but lately…Oh, well.” She straightened the little case of buttons that Madeline had pawed through.
“Who asked about Siren Song?” Hudson wanted to know.
“A visitor in the town. Can’t remember her name.” The shopkeeper frowned, thinking hard, her fingers frozen over the buttons. “Oh. Yes. It was that dark-haired young woman. The one who was killed when her car went off the cliff just north of here.”
“Renee Trudeau?” Hudson asked.
Becca’s heart did a nosedive.
“Yes.” The shopkeeper brightened, proud of herself. “That’s her name!”
Mac had had enough of the beach. He’d spent the whole day trying to figure out what kind of “fun” thing he and his son could do together. They’d made an attempt at crabbing, but Levi wasn’t really into it. Now the sun was sinking into the horizon and storm clouds were just about to block it out completely. A glacial wind was trying its best to rip his coat from him. Levi was bundled in a hat and coat and all Mac could see were his nose and mouth. They were both frozen and trying to act like they were having a good time.
The Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department knew nothing more than they had the first time Mac had visited them. Mac got the feeling they wanted him to disappear and let them work their investigation in their own way. He didn’t blame them. He didn’t like interference, either.
So he’d taken the hint and brought Levi into Deception Bay with the thought of hanging out with his son, but the weather was sure as hell making that a dicey proposition. He was trying to think what he could come up with, some kind of entertainment they could both enjoy, when his cell phone buzzed. He saw it was Gretchen and was almost grateful for the intrusion.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“A helluva lot, actually. Maybe you should leave town more often and let the rest of us do your work for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. What is it?”
“You know the DNA you got back on the Preppy Pricks? And the girls, too?”
“That proved Zeke’s paternity, yes.” Mac was trying to be patient, but he could hear the edge of annoyance in his voice.
“You only asked to know the baby’s paternity.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, the tech found some other-unexpected-information in that DNA, and he called this morning to give you the news. I took the call.”
“How long is this build-up gonna go?” Mac demanded.
“Ends right here, killjoy. Your little girlfriend’s DNA matches one of the others. They’re full-on siblings.”
“What?”
“Rebecca Ryan Sutcliff is Jezebel Brentwood’s sister,” she said with relish.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Becca stood with Hudson outside their car, the wind slapping her hair around her face. They’d started driving toward the tract of land the locals called Siren Song when Becca had suddenly insisted they head away from Deception Bay and to a neighboring town to the south. Hudson hadn’t asked her why at the time, but when she proceeded to waste away half the afternoon in studied silence, hugging her dog, he’d asked her what was wrong. She’d been incapable of telling him that she didn’t want to go. After all this, she-didn’t-want-to-go. It was laughable, really, as much as she’d insisted on learning the truth, an insistence that had sent them barreling toward the coast. But now, now that she was on the brink of real discovery, she was paralyzed with fear and she didn’t know how to explain it.
“What’s going on?” Hudson had finally asked in frustration when they turned the Jetta back toward Deception Bay. Becca shook her head and kept her eyes on the road, unable to verbalize the feelings tight within her. “Maybe I should drive,” Hudson said, for about the fifth time.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not acting fine.”
“I’m just-thinking.”
“Care to include me in that thinking?”
He sounded pissed and she didn’t blame him, but she really didn’t get it herself. She was running on emotion and sensation, and a deep fear for her baby’s life that seemed to have taken control.
He wants to kill you. He wants to kill your baby. She’d repressed her last vision, but after learning from the shopkeeper that Renee had asked about Siren Song, it had come to the fore, frightening her anew. She was desperately afraid for her baby. Afraid for Hudson. Afraid for herself.
Now they were at a lookout, gazing over the darkening ocean, gathering their thoughts. The lighthouse sat on its rocky mound to the south, and the murky island beyond had disappeared behind a fog bank. Night would be upon them very soon.
“Madame Madeline knew I was pregnant,” Becca said aloud. She’d said the same thing several times over the course of the afternoon.
“She seemed more like someone suffering from dementia than a ‘seer,’” Hudson answered. He’d also said the same thing over the course of the afternoon.
“I know you want to go to Siren Song.”
“I don’t have any problem seeing Mad Maddie first, but we need to make some kind of decision soon.” His eyes scanned the horizon.
“You don’t think it’s important,” Becca accused him.
“Renee got spooked by her,” Hudson allowed. “But she didn’t really learn anything from her.”
“Except that she was going to die.”
Hudson shook his head, his jaw tight. “Someone killed my sister by running her off the road. Someone I’m going to find. I don’t believe for a minute that Mad Maddie’s prediction had anything to do with it. This was murder, premeditated, because Renee asked questions and somebody didn’t like it.”
Becca closed her eyes and let the wind throw a shiver of rain at her. It was freezing cold but it felt oddly cleansing. She heard Ringo barking from the car, scolding them for leaving him inside. “I don’t want to go to Siren Song,” she admitted.