Dalton pulled her closer, shooting a narrow-eyed glance at the other man. “It’s highly improbable, I should think.”
“That’s right,” Bill agreed. “Why would Kurt come after you now? So much time has passed.”
“Unfinished business,” she whispered. “To get even with me for screwing up his plans.”
Again her friends fell silent. This time, Bill spoke first. “Let’s think this through, Anna. I understand your fears and why you would feel threatened by this man. But why would he want to force you out?”
“That’s right,” Dalton spoke up. “If Kurt wanted some sort of revenge, why not just have it? Kidnap you again? Kill you?”
“Thanks a lot, Dalton.” She forced a weak smile. “Remind me to have burglar bars installed.”
Bill frowned. “Kurt coming after you simply doesn’t make sense, Anna. Look at the facts. Twenty-three years have passed. This Kurt has no doubt gone on to other crimes. He may be imprisoned. Or dead.”
She rubbed her fingers over her deformed hand. “I want to believe it, but…I have this awful feeling he’s found me.”
“You have to go to the police.” Dalton looked at Bill for affirmation. He got it and returned his gaze to Anna’s. “The sooner the better.”
“The police,” she repeated. “And what do I tell them? That someone is sending cryptic notes and copies of my novels to my friends? Come on, I’d be laughed out of the place.”
“No, you go to them with your suspicions. With your past and the recent turn of events, I hardly think they’ll laugh.”
“I agree,” Bill said. “If nothing else, it’ll serve as a kind of heads-up. What do you have to lose?”
Truth was, she didn’t have a lot of confidence in the police—or in the FBI. If not for their bumbling, she believed Timmy would be alive today.
But Anna didn’t tell them that. Instead, she murmured, “I’ll think about it. Okay?”
“Promise me,” Dalton said, tone fierce. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“All right, I’ll think about it. I promise.”
They talked a while more, then after Anna assured them she would be fine alone, they stood to leave.
On his way out the door, Bill stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. “How did Jaye take the news?” he asked. “She can be so sensitive.”
Anna froze. Amazingly, until that moment, she hadn’t thought of Jaye. And from the calls she’d received, it seemed all the important people in her life had been contacted. Had Jaye?
She swallowed hard, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Jaye, whose trust had been so hard to win. Jaye, who had been lied to by everyone she had ever loved or trusted. Jaye, who would perceive Anna’s secret as a lie and yet another betrayal in a life filled with them.
Anna said goodbye to her friends and ran for the phone. She checked the answering machine, found her young friend had not called and quickly dialed her number.
Jaye refused to come to the phone.
Devastated, Anna told Jaye’s foster mother that she was coming over. It was imperative that she speak with the girl as soon as possible.
Anna flew to Jaye’s, making it to her mid-city neighborhood in record time. The entire way she gripped the steering wheel tightly and repeated a prayer in her head that it was going to be okay, that she could make Jaye understand why she had kept her past a secret from her.
But she saw right away that she couldn’t make Jaye understand, that she couldn’t make it okay. “I can explain, Jaye.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” Jaye hiked up her chin. “I trusted you and you lied to me.”
“I didn’t.” At the girl’s disgusted snort, Anna reached a hand out. The sun had begun to set and dusk closed around them as they stood on the porch. “Please, listen to me, Jaye. That person, Harlow Grail, that’s not who I am. She doesn’t exist anymore. I left her behind when I moved down here. I told you who I am, Anna North.”
Jaye hugged herself against the cold. “That’s. bullshit! Anna North is only a part of who you are.”
“I changed my name, I moved. I left behind everybody but my parents—”
“Adults always do that, don’t they? Justify what they do even when it’s wrong. Insist that it’s the juvenile who’s not thinking clearly.”
“That’s not what’s going on here. I’m trying to tell you, trying to make you see why—”
“Why you lied to me. I’m only fifteen and I know how screwed up that is.” Her disdain made Anna cringe. “‘You’ve got to face the past to overcome it.’ How many times have I heard that? How many times did I hear you say it?”
“I didn’t lie.” Anna shook her head. “I’m Anna North now. Harlow Grail only exists in people’s memories. I left her—”
“You haven’t left her behind!” Jaye cried. “You can’t. I know because a day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about my dad and the things he did.” She tipped her chin up, struggling, Anna saw, not to cry. “If you had really left Harlow Grail behind, you wouldn’t be working so hard to hide from her.”
She was right, dammit. How did someone so young know so much? Even as Anna wondered, she knew. With pain came insight.
“Our situations aren’t the same.”
Jaye stiffened, spots of bright color dotting her cheeks. “Oh, I see. My opinion and feelings don’t matter. Because I’m just a stupid kid.”
“No, they’re different because your dad’s in jail. She held up her mutilated hand. “The man who did this to me was never caught. I’m not hiding from my past. I’m hiding from him. I’m afraid.”
Jaye’s expression softened and for a moment Anna thought she may have convinced her friend. The moment passed and Jaye shook her head. “Real friends are one hundred percent honest with each other. I have been. But you…I don’t even know who you are.”
“I’m sorry, Jaye. Forgive me.” She reached a hand out to the girl. “Please.”
“No.” Jaye’s eyes flooded with tears and she took a step backward. “You lied to me. I can’t be your friend anymore. I won’t.”
She turned and ran inside, slamming the door behind her. The sound reverberated through Anna, final and heartbreaking.
10
Wednesday, January 17 The French Quarter
For the next four days Anna had called Jaye every day, at least twice. Each time, the girl had refused to take her call.
Anna missed her. Their falling-out had left a big hole in her life and her heart. Bill and Dalton believed Jaye would relent in time, that before long she would call Anna and everything would be all right.
Anna hoped they were right. But she knew Jaye. She understood her. When it came to relationships, if someone hurt Jaye, she cut them out of her life, swiftly and brutally. The girl had developed the tactic as protection against the kind of hurt she had suffered as a youngster.
Anna had never thought Jaye would feel compelled to use the tactic with her.
Sighing, Anna stepped through The Perfect Rose’s front door. Dalton had beat her in this morning. He stood behind the register, counting the cash in the drawer.
“Sorry I’m late,” she called, slipping out of her jacket and