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Something was definitely wrong. Had Lucy gotten too much sun?
“But Arnie’s company’s name popping up like that, not just once but multiple times, everywhere. It can’t just be a coincidence. There must be some form of link.”
“Of course there must!”
Lucy laughed loudly, but there was no joy in the sound. It was more of a cackle, bordering on the hysterical. She was squatting on her haunches now, rummaging in her backpack. Alexia thought. Good. She clearly needs some water. And some food. The shock must have been too much for her. Either that or we’re both getting too old for midday hikes through . . .
Her thoughts trailed off.
Lucy Meyer had pulled out a gun. Pointing it right between Alexia’s eyes, she had stopped laughing. Hatred blazed out of her like light from the sun.
“It’s you, Alexia, don’t you see? You’re the link. Although I must start calling you by your real name. Toni. Antonia Louise Gilletti, sly, scheming, hateful bitch that you are ! Everything that happened, all the death, all the pain—it was all because of you.”
Chapter Forty
Summer Meyer threw her bag down on her bed, then lay down wearily beside it. She felt desperately tired, but not the kind of tired that would ever lead to sleep. Instead her body twitched with the restless exhaustion of the emotionally shattered. Staring at the ceiling, which was still half covered in glow stars from her childhood, she felt as wired and tearful as junkie in withdrawal.
I have to talk to Mom.
Arnie had told her in the car that Lucy had left on a hike this morning and wasn’t expected back till late afternoon. “She’s with Alexia.”
This brought Summer up short. “What do you mean? Alexia’s in England.”
“Nope. She’s with your mother.”
“Dad, she’s been all over the news in the UK. This business with Teddy. I saw her on TV.”
“Yes, well, all I can tell you is she telephoned your mother and said she had something important to discuss with her. So important it couldn’t be dealt with over the phone, apparently. She flew in last night.”
This threw a major wrench in the works. When Summer confronted her mother, it had to be alone. She would tell Alexia, of course. Alexia had the right to know the truth about her son’s relationship with her so-called best friend. But there was no way Summer could say what she had to say in front of an audience.
On the other hand, the idea of waiting until nightfall was unbearable. She already felt stretched to a breaking point. Six more hours and she’d be foaming at the mouth.
Not sure what else to do, she took a shower, brushed her teeth, and changed into cooler, more comfortable clothes: a pair of cutoff jeans and a thin cotton shirt from James Perse.
“You look cute, honey.” Arnie smiled warmly as she came downstairs. “Shall I get Lydia to make us a late lunch?”
“No thanks, Dad. I couldn’t eat.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t eat. You have to eat, Summer. Are you sure nothing’s the matter?”
“I’m fine, Dad. A bit nauseous, that’s all.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Pregnant? Jeez, Dad, no! How could I possibly be pregnant?”
“Well, go sit outside, then, and Lydia will bring you out some cheese and fruit. You can manage that much at least.”
Protest was clearly useless. Summer walked toward the kitchen door.
“Oh, by the way, your mom left this for you.” Arnie handed her an envelope on her way out. “She asked me to give it to you as soon as you landed, but I forgot. Don’t tell her, okay?”
“What is it?”
“Beats me. I usually find, with envelopes, the mystery becomes clearer when you open ’em.”
In normal circumstances, Summer would have laughed at that. Now she took the envelope in silence and walked away.
