Wicked Game

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Ms. Sutcliff? Becca?” McNally asked, seeing her face pale, her attention turn inward.

She pulled herself back with an effort. “You’re saying I’m adopted.”

“Yes.”

She was related to the colony members at Siren Song. Related to that girl who looked so much like Jessie. A question trembled on her tongue. Something so bizarre, and yet it made a peculiar kind of sense.

Before she could ask it, however, McNally gave her the answer. “We have a DNA match,” he said. He told her about the lab results, as well as the bone spur on her rib that was identical to Jessie’s. “You’re Jessie Brentwood’s sister.”

“A DNA match,” she repeated.

“Your parents and Jessie’s were the same two people,” he added for clarification.

“How can this be?” Becca murmured, but the tumblers started clicking into place. She looked like Jessie in some ways. She shared a strange and troubling extra ability with her-her visions; Jessie’s precognition. Jessie came to her in visions that were real enough to make her believe they were a message.

McNally was talking, saying Jessie might have come looking for Becca, that she was a runaway and had attended more schools than not around the Portland area, that she was maybe running to something, rather than away from it.

“No.” Becca cut him off. “She was running from him.”

“Him? The guy who ran you off the road last night?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, watching her closely, as if he expected her to fall apart. “I’ve talked to the Brentwoods several times. They’re not very forthcoming about Jessie’s adoption.”

“My parents never even told me.” She made a sound of disbelief, then sank into another long silence while her mind rearranged pieces of her life like a jigsaw puzzle, trying it this way and that, discarding a piece, picking up another, moving it around.

“You do resemble her,” McNally pointed out.

Is that why Hudson “loves” me? Is that what he sees in me? She’d always wondered, and now it seemed a likely bet.

DNA was irrefutable. She believed McNally.

She stared into her untouched cup of coffee and felt as if her life, everything she’d ever held to be true, was crumbling at her feet. Why had her parents lied to her?

“Jessie never knew,” she said. Until after her death.

McNally nodded.

Becca swallowed. Hadn’t she always known she was different? Suspected that because of her visions, there was something in her past she didn’t know or understand?

Her hand tightened over her cup. Her whole life had been built on lies, and because of it she could not have predicted that this monster would relentlessly chase her down.

“He killed her,” Becca said with certainty. “He had a knife last night. He wanted to kill me but then he saw her and it stopped him.”

“Saw who?”

“Jessie. In a vision. Did I tell you I have visions? That I see Jessie standing on a cliff’s edge, whispering to me? She wants justice, and I think she wants me to end it once and for all with this demon who won’t let us be!”

“Let the police do their job,” McNally said quickly, clearly thinking she was going to charge out on her own.

And wasn’t she? Wasn’t that what she was thinking? Didn’t she feel the urgency inside her breast that was like an angry, living thing?

“We’re looking for him. He drove off, but his vehicle had to sustain damage. I believe you said it was white or tan?”

“The grill guard,” Becca said suddenly. “His truck had a grill guard.”

“A grill guard,” he repeated. “Maybe detachable, if he used the same vehicle to push Renee Trudeau’s off the road.”

“It was damaged. It was scraped.”

“Do you remember anything else? Something else that might help? Any little thing?”

She gazed at him a long time. McNally waited, wondering what was coming down the pike now. At length, she said, “I think the answer is in Deception Bay. I think he lives there.”

“Any particular reason?”

She almost told him about Siren Song. He hadn’t blinked when she’d mentioned her visions, but that only meant he was just taking in information, it wasn’t proof that he believed her. He could think she was the biggest nutcase in the world.

“There’s one more thing,” Mac said, drawing her back to the here and now. “You said this has happened before to you. That you were run off the road the last time you were pregnant.”

Her head snapped up. He knew?

“You told the paramedics and I overheard,” he explained, correctly guessing her feelings. “That accident was about sixteen years ago on the same stretch of road. My partner looked it up. Was Walker the father?”

She felt as if the life had been squeezed out of her. “Yes,” she whispered, nodding, “but I’ve never told him. If you plan on breaking that news, I should do it first.”

“If there’s a pattern, he needs to know.”

“There’s a pattern.”

“Then you need to tell him now.”

Becca couldn’t move for a moment. Every ache and pain sustained from the night before seemed to manifest itself ten times over. With the low-level energy of the elderly, she rose from her chair and headed back to Hudson’s room.

Hudson ached all over.

When he shifted in the bed, there didn’t seem to be an inch on his body that wasn’t in pain. He looked at the chart next to his bed, a sequence of “happy” and “not-so-happy” faces indicating where his pain medications should keep him. He was supposed to be in the kinda happy zone, and he definitely was not. But the nurse had just been in and adjusted his IV drip, so things would improve. The detectives from the sheriff’s department had already taken off as well.

It had been a frustrating interrogation. He’d learned little, and, he suspected, they’d learned less from him. A no-win/no-win situation, leaving both the cops and him discouraged.

He itched to get out of this place, to start looking for that unhinged jerk who had run them off the road and most probably killed Renee. But try as he might, he couldn’t convince the doctor to release him. Whenever he asked a nurse or physician when he could be released, he’d been met with a “soon” or “possibly later today” or “probably tomorrow.” He wanted out and he wanted out now. It worried him that Becca was still hanging out here, where all the trouble had started, where Renee had been investigating before she’d been killed, where the attacker had already tried once to kill them. What was to stop him now?

And what did it mean that both Becca and her attacker had seen a vision of Jessie?

Hudson cursed his luck, tried to move and felt another sharp pain slice through his shoulder. He forced his eyes closed so that he could think and plan. Somehow he had to nail the son of a bitch who’d attacked them before the lunatic got another shot.

The medication had just started to kick in when the door to his room opened and Becca let herself inside. He’d never been so glad to see anyone in his life. “Hey,” he said, sliding over as best he could. “I think there’s room for two up here.”

“Yeah, right,” she said and managed a bit of a smile.

“I’d make it worth your while.”

“Must be the pain meds talking.”

“Seriously.”

“Well, that’s just it,” she said, her smile sliding away. “I do want to talk to you. Seriously.”

He saw a shadow cross her eyes and wondered what was coming now. Something else had happened! Another one of their friends killed? Someone they knew?

Reading the alarm in his eyes, she grabbed his good hand and said, “It’s not that bad. Relax.” And then she told him about bone spurs and DNA and the fact that it looked like she’d been adopted, had never been told the truth, and had no idea who her biological parents were.

And she told him she and Jessie were sisters.

“What?” Hudson was stunned.

“We’re both from Siren Song,” she said. “Both of us. Those are our people, and they’re his.”

“I don’t believe you,” he declared, but he was lying.

“There’s something else.”

“Something else?” he asked in disbelief.

She took in a deep breath. “Something I should have told you a long, long time ago.”

“Okay…” Her tone sharpened his attention.

“Remember the last time we were together? After high school?”

“Yeah,” he said.

She was nodding and he saw a sheen in her eyes. Tears?

“We were together all the time,” she said thickly.

He nodded.

She hesitated.

The hospital room seemed to close in on him and the noises from the hallway outside receded. “What, Becca?” he asked and realized she was squeezing his hand so hard he felt it through the smooth haze of whatever painkiller was seeping into his IV.

“I was pregnant,” she said, her face white and twisted.

“What?”

“With your baby, Hudson. Just a few months, but very definitely pregnant.”

He heard the thudding of his own heart and noticed that her fingers, where they were clenched to his, were sweating. “So what happened to the baby?” he asked, but he knew as surely as if he’d heard the words. The baby hadn’t survived. He stared at her and felt a gnawing ache deep in his gut. Not for one second did he disbelieve her-all her raw emotions were etched across her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her nose red. “The baby died in a horrible car crash. An attack, really. I miscarried.” She cleared her throat and blinked back tears. “I should have told you,” she said in a whispered rush. “Before. Afterward…there didn’t really seem any reason to.”

“Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted, Hudson,” she admitted, looking toward the ceiling and blinking rapidly. “You were just so…distant. I thought you didn’t want me and I was pretty sure you wouldn’t want a baby.”

Hudson closed his eyes. The roller-coaster ride of the past few months had just taken another dip. He’d thought Jessie had been pregnant with his child, and then that had proved untrue. But now to learn that Becca had been…and she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him?

You weren’t exactly reliable in those days, Walker.

But his child-his kid-would be sixteen years old now, nearly graduated from high school, and he and Becca…who knew? It was true that he hadn’t known what he’d wanted at that time in his life; that he was still messed up over Jessie. Still guilt-riddled for wanting Becca when Jessie had seemed to fall off the face of the earth.

“You were forced off the road, just like we were last night?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You think it’s no coincidence.”

“No.” She was tense, her jaw tight. “He won’t stop, Hudson. I’m sorry. I should have told you, but he’s-”

Rap! Rap! Rap!

Becca turned toward the door just as it swung open and Hudson’s gaze followed. He was frustrated. He needed to talk to her, and his frustration increased when he saw his friends Jarrett and The Third swing into the room.

“I thought since Scott was in jail all this life-threatening crap would quit,” The Third said. “What the hell happened?”

“Trying to figure it out,” Hudson said, looking at Becca.

She knew he needed to talk more to her, but then Zeke entered the room, looking as if he’d lost ten pounds and aged as many years, and the conversation took off.

Becca took the opportunity to extricate herself from Hudson. She’d given him a hell of a lot to think about, and she wanted to make up her own mind about what to do next without his cynosure. “I’ll be back later,” she said.

“When?” he demanded.

“Soon.”

“And you’re letting McNally handle things, right?”

“Right.”

She slipped out of the room before he could protest, leaving him with his friends and a thundercloud of frustration darkening his expression.

Becca jogged across the parking lot to her beater of a rental car while a million questions chased after her. Jessie’s family had lived here. Jessie had known she was adopted. Jessie’s adoptive parents had owned a second place in Deception Bay. The people at Siren Song resembled her and were secretive. Renee had been killed for what she learned.

Becca climbed into the rental, jabbed her keys into the ignition, and took off through the puddles of the parking lot. The rain had stopped but clouds covered the sky, melding to the ocean and obscuring the horizon. She drove toward Deception Bay. That’s where all the lies, deceit, and murder began. In a sleepy little coastal village shrouded in secrets and lies.

She turned off 101 and drove down the desolate main street of town. Could she really have been born here? Even lived here in this tiny fishing village? A part of Siren Song. She’d known it felt familiar.

She parked not far from the Sands of Thyme bakery, which, like so many of the businesses, was closed. Climbing from the rental, she noticed that for once not a breath of breeze stirred through the streets, and the fog bank sitting out to sea seemed to ride slowly inland on the back of the swells.

Shivering inside, she pulled her sweatshirt more tightly around her. The calm before the storm.

Cold dread climbed up her spine and she wondered if she really wanted to uncover the truth, to pick apart its onion-skin thin layers of lies. How many people had tried to keep her from knowing the circumstances of her birth, and why had it inflamed one maniac enough that he would kill and kill again?

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.”