“What kind of research?” Becca asked. The vision she’d had of Jessie on the cliff felt very close. It was all too much of a coincidence, and she was starting to feel claustrophobic.
“The Brentwoods never left the area after Jessie disappeared. They wanted to be where she could find them when she returned, but now they think the bones are hers, too. I told them what I wanted to do and we talked about Jessie at length. I think they want closure, too.” Renee looked thoughtfully at Evangeline. “They remember you and Jessie being tight.”
“Wow. Everybody’s telling me how it was. Funny, I don’t remember it that way.” Evangeline pulled her gaze from Renee’s and looked around the room, obviously trying to distance herself from the missing girl. “Can I get a glass of wine or something?”
Scott nodded, appearing irritated as he glanced at the door to the kitchen. “Glenn should be back any minute.”
Renee wasn’t sidetracked. “Before she disappeared…Jessie was on a search herself. Kind of obsessed about it. Kind of looking into who she was. Trying to figure out what made her tick.”
Was that right? Becca had never heard this before.
“Hudson made her tick,” The Third said with a dirty chuckle. Jarrett laughed and Scott grinned.
Renee, on her own track, went on doggedly, “She lived in a bunch of different places before ending up here. She was adopted by the Brentwoods and they moved around a lot.”
“Chasing after her, probably,” Mitch snorted.
“But she always returned until she attended St. Elizabeth’s. She’s missing for a reason. If those are her bones, something happened to her.”
Scott’s expression darkened. “‘Something?’ You mean, like murder? That’s where you’re going with this, aren’t you? Just like McNally. He acted like we were all in on some kind of conspiracy.” Scott half laughed, almost nervously. “What an idiot. He had a hard-on for Jessie and he never even met her.”
“He probably killed her.” Evangeline was serious. “The cop that gets all obsessed about a girl. It happens. You hear about it. Read about it. See it in the movies, like, all the time!”
“Oh, sure.” Jarrett regarded her disparagingly.
“I thought you didn’t believe she was dead,” Scott pointed out.
“McNally didn’t know about Jessie until after she disappeared,” Hudson reminded Vangie.
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe he did and we just don’t know it,” she sniffed.
“Stick with your theory that she’s still alive,” The Third suggested. “It’s not as kookoo as ‘the sex-crazed cop killed her.’”
This was getting crazier by the minute, Becca thought, the conversation nearly drowning out the background music still straining to offer a calm, relaxed atmosphere while everyone in the room seemed on the verge of freaking out.
Tamara shook her head and twisted up one palm, her bracelets musically jingling. “Well, I don’t think the bones are Jessie’s, either. Sorry,” she said to Renee. “Jessie was just too much of a force, y’know? She’s not dead. She’s out there. She was…different. Don’t you remember? She knew things.”
“Here we go with the mumbo-jumbo stuff.” The Third sat back in his chair and Jarrett followed suit. The perfect lieutenant, Becca thought, liking him less and less and feeling the need to run away. She’d never fit into their crowd in high school, and things hadn’t changed. If anything, she was more of a misfit than ever.
“The last time I had my Tarot read, I swear it was all about Jessie. Remember?” Tamara looked to Renee for verification. “You saw it, too.”
“You believe in that junk?” The Third looked around at the rest of them for support, as if to say, “What a bunch of idiots.”
“Oh, learn to have some fun,” Tamara snapped at him.
“You did that Tarot crap, too?” Jarrett demanded of Renee.
Hudson’s twin waved off his attack. “I’ve done a lot of things. We all have. It’s been twenty years, for God’s sake. And sometimes everything isn’t black and white, you know, not cut and dried. We did the Tarot thing and Tamara asked questions about Jessie.”
“So did you,” Tamara reminded her tartly.
Renee nodded. “It’s kind of what got me going on the Jessie story.”
“So you’re not a true believer?” Scott lifted a brow.
“Oh, shut up,” Tamara said to him with a faint smile. “Tell them what you learned, Renee.”
Renee hesitated, then said, “It was something about how I was about to embark on a quest for knowledge. That someone from my past was reaching out to me. And that I should be warned not to let it take over my life.”
Becca eyed Hudson’s twin with a wary eye. This, from Renee? The journalist? The girl who always had her facts so straight? What was going on here? What was Renee’s real angle?
“And so you decided to chase Jessie’s ghost?” The Third looked from her to his friends as if he thought Renee had gone around the bend.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Renee stated coolly, her dark gaze hard.
Hudson asked her curiously, “How long have you been on this story?”
“A while. It’s just weird the bones have turned up now.”
“A sign?” The Third asked with exaggerated interest.
Renee said, “Maybe one of us should call that cop. McNally. Mac.”
“What?” The Third demanded.
“He knows more about the Jessie case than anyone.”
“That’s just begging for trouble,” Jarrett snarled as a chorus of denials rose up. Becca had to agree with them, though she said nothing. She noticed Hudson remained quiet, too. McNally wasn’t the enemy, no matter what Evangeline theorized.
But something had happened to Jessie. Something bad. Something Becca felt she should know. With a chill she vividly recalled every aspect of her vision at the mall: how Jessie had appeared to her, how the ocean had crashed so loudly she couldn’t hear Jessie’s warning, how Jessie’s toes had touched the edge of the cliff above the raging water. She remembered her own heart quivering fear, and the calm, clear way Jessie had stared at her, called to her…
“Becca?”
She jumped back to awareness and turned to Renee. “Yeah?”
“I asked you what you thought.” She regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Do you think the body is Jessie’s?”
Did she?
“Of course it’s Jessie,” Glenn answered, reentering the room carrying a tray with four bottles of wine, two red and two white. A waiter followed after him with glasses and began placing them around the table. A waitress carried a tray filled with platters of bite-sized seafood, everything from fried calamari to crab and artichoke dip to crostini topped with smoked salmon, heirloom tomatoes, and sliced mozzarella cheese. Samples of fried razor clams, steamed mussels, and barbecued oysters followed.
While the waiters placed small plates, glasses, and napkins around the table, Glenn added, “She didn’t run away. Maybe she was planning to, but something stopped her.”
Tamara eyed the heaping trays of food. “I’m on a tight budget.”
“It’s on me,” The Third said in a bored tone that suggested he always picked up the check and found it tedious.
Glenn shook his head as he took his seat. “Compliments