Was she related to him? Was he after both her and Jessie? Were they both the spawn of Satan?
She walked toward the ocean and felt the oozing sensation of déjà vu slither through her mind. Could she really have lived here?
That’s where the answers lay: Siren Song.
That’s where she needed to go for answers.
She felt a sudden breath of icy air upon the back of her neck and turned to look over her shoulder.
He was there.
Dark, hidden in shadows, he stood with feet wide spread and looked into her mind.
“Hey!” a man’s voice yelled and she turned. “Watch out!” A pickup was stopped at an intersection, ready to move forward, except that she was standing in the middle of the street, blocking the road. “Lady, are you okay?”
Her head cleared. “Sorry.”
“Friggin’ locals. All a bunch of whack jobs,” the guy in the pickup said under his breath as he drove past.
If you only knew, Becca thought, still quaking inside as she looked toward the corner and the spruce tree where she’d seen the man she was certain had tried to take her life. “Brother,” she said, and the word tasted foul.
Had she seen him? Had she? She’d certainly sensed his presence, but did that mean he was actually here?
Drawing a long breath, Becca shook it off. There was no time to waste. She needed to get to Siren Song and find the answers. Now.
The doctor wasn’t going to release him, but Hudson couldn’t stay cooped up another minute. He decided that he’d sign whatever releases he needed to, absolve the hospital, doctor, and any damned hospital worker who had stuck his or her head into the room of any liability, and walk out on his own two legs.
He’d already convinced Zeke to loan him his wheels.
Zeke had been reluctant, and though Hudson couldn’t blame him, he was on a mission. And yes, he’d played on Zeke’s guilt, so that his one-time friend had handed over the keys to his vintage Mustang to a man with one arm who was sporting a bad attitude and was loaded up on pain meds. The Third had told Zeke he was crazy, but Zeke had snapped back, “Just gimme a ride back, okay?”
“Vangie waiting for you at home?” Jarrett asked meanly.
“No.”
Hudson hadn’t wanted them to disintegrate into high school one-upmanship, so he’d stated firmly, “Zeke and Vangie are through. Nothing more to say about it.”
And then he’d taken his request one step further, asking for Zeke’s cell phone. “Mine was lost in the accident,” Hudson explained, and Zeke slapped it into his hand, holding his gaze.
“We square, then?” Zeke asked.
There were a lot of things Hudson could have said, a lot more recriminations. But like Zeke and Vangie, it was time to simply move on. “We’re good.”
As soon as they were gone, he climbed from the bed. Pain shot up his arm and his head ached like a hammer was striking an anvil somewhere behind his eyes. Bad idea. And yet, the only idea. He didn’t care how much it cost him, he needed to leave. He needed to find out if Becca was really depending on McNally, or if she’d taken matters into her own hands.
He was betting on the latter.
Filthy bitch!
I see her. Standing in the road. Now she turns away but rage boils my blood!
She must die. Now! I had planned to wait but that stupid old woman sped up the time line.
I cannot wait any longer.
Rebecca…
My head throbs like a heartbeat from the blow you gave me.
You will pay for that as well.
Bitch. Evil mother. I will kill you and your devil spawn.
I see you get in your car but you cannot escape your destiny.
But I must lay the trap.
You will come to me.
Very, very soon.
Becca drove toward Siren Song. She didn’t have much of a game plan but seeing her nemesis-whether real or imagined-had spurred her on. She’d face the son of a bitch. Track him down. It was time for the hunter to be the prey.
If only Hudson were with her-but she didn’t want him to be drawn into her battle. She’d already risked his life. He was lying in a hospital bed because of it.
The afternoon was dark enough to seem like night. For a moment she considered calling McNally. She reached for her purse and her cell phone, but then hesitated.
And what’re you going to tell him? That you feel him?
She would seem as crazy as Mad Maddie. More so.
Gritting her teeth, Becca bumped up the pothole-riddled land to the gates of Siren Song.
Where Renee had sought information on Jessie’s past.
Where it had all begun.
The wrought-iron barrier was closed, of course, and, as it was getting dark, she couldn’t see much beyond the outline of the lodge. She climbed out of the rental and stepped to the gates. “Hello?” she yelled. “Anyone there?”
She waited, yelled again, then waited some more. After twenty minutes, she went back to the rental. There was no daylight left now, so she switched on her headlights, pointing them through the black fencing as the mist rose and swirled in the twin beams that cut through the tall fencing. The side door and a stone path were illuminated and the arms of surrounding trees seemed to reach inward in long fingers.
She honked the horn of her car, and it sounded like the pathetic bleat of a dying lamb over the dull roar of the Pacific, which could be heard as if it were right next door.
Should she try and scale the fence with its pointed arrow-like spikes piercing upward? She honked again and this time there was movement, a flash of color in her headlights.
What if it’s him?
You didn’t think of that, did you?
What if you’ve walked into a trap? You have no weapon, nothing to protect yourself.
She started the car, but as she did, she saw the same girl who had been at the gate before appear in her headlights. Tonight she was wearing a long coat with a hood. She stared at Becca with wide eyes. Jessie’s eyes.
Becca clambered out of the rental and approached the gate.
“You need to leave,” the girl said in a quiet voice.
“I can’t.”
“Drive away. Now.”
“Jessie Brentwood came here years ago, and someone else just recently, a reporter. With dark, short hair. Renee Trudeau. She wanted information on Jessie.”
“She did not come in.”
“You didn’t let her in,” Becca realized.
“It wasn’t safe.”
“But she knew this is where Jessie came from. I think I came from here, too.” The girl gazed at Becca soulfully. Becca had no idea what she was thinking. “Can’t I come in?” Becca cajoled. “I just have so many questions.”
“It’s not safe for you, either.”
“Do you know who I am?”
She glanced behind her, then down at her feet. “Rebecca…”
Becca’s pulse jumped. “Look, I think…I think I might be related to someone here and it’s very important that I find him.”
Jessie saw the girl’s eyes dilate, the pupils making her eyes two black orbs with the faintest halo of color around them. “You won’t find him here,” she said.
“You know who I’m talking about?”
The girl hesitated. “You’ve met Madeline?”
“Yes,” Becca said, surprised by the non sequitur. “But I’m looking for someone else and it’s really important. People have died. I need to find him.”
She half turned away.
“No, wait!” Becca called, but she was already leaving.
She stopped when she was about thirty feet away. “Whoever you’re looking for is not here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you asked for ‘him,’” she said without inflection. “There are no men at Siren Song.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hudson stared at the pimply-faced clerk on the other side of the faux-wood counter in the lobby of the tired-looking motel where he, Becca, and Ringo had stayed only a few short weeks ago. A striped yellow tabby viewed the interplay with utter disdain from the back of a worn couch as the clerk, who was all of fourteen or so, gazed at him in consternation.