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Where the hell is Henry? Pandy thought angrily as Judy pushed through the paparazzi that were circled around SondraBeth like pagan priests around a sacrificial lamb.
She was standing on a patch of grass near what was left of the structure: a few charred pieces of wood scattered around a large rectangular patch of mud. The piece of fabric Pandy had seen SondraBeth holding earlier was now covering her body like a shroud. She jerked her arm back to take Pandy’s hand.
Pandy looked around at the camera lenses aimed in her direction like faceless black eyes and decided she’d better go along with the charade. She tore her eyes away from the cameras and looked at SondraBeth instead.
SondraBeth was staring at her with those shining green-gold eyes. And suddenly, Pandy realized this was going to be just like that time on the island when Pandy had caught SondraBeth in the marsh with the herons. She was going to do what she needed to do, and she was going to act like nobody else was there.
SondraBeth dipped her head. She pulled Pandy forward a step or two into the mud. Hissing under her breath, she said, “Your sister meant everything to me, Hellenor. The two of us used to be best friends. The best friends two girls could ever be.” She paused and looked Pandy straight in the eye. “And now I’m hoping we can be friends, too.”
Pandy stared back. Was it possible SondraBeth honestly didn’t know she was Pandy? Pandy decided to try to give SondraBeth a message back:
“I think that can be arranged,” she said, with a meaningful nod.
SondraBeth gave Pandy’s hand a quick squeeze before she dropped it and strode, silent and alone, through the mud to the center of the rectangle where the boathouse had been. She raised her arms, and suddenly, the flashes stopped. The crowd held their collective breath, as if wondering what she might do next.
Into the silence came the lone caw of a crow.
SondraBeth lay down on her back. She extended her arms and, sweeping them up and down, made angel wings. Then she rolled forward onto her knees, and with her head bowed, slowly stood up. She turned around and began walking back toward the driveway. As she walked, she peeled the fabric from her body, carefully folding the muddy material in her hands.
Reaching the grass, she stopped for a moment to allow her people to catch up with her.
“Did you know she was going to do that?” Pandy heard someone whisper as they hurried toward SondraBeth.
“No,” someone else whispered back.
SondraBeth turned her head and looked back at Pa
ndy. And then, as if making a sudden decision, she walked toward her.
“Come with me,” she said. Her voice was quiet and splintery.
She disappeared into her swirl of assistants, and suddenly Judy was by Pandy’s side. She touched Pandy’s arm in a friendly girl-to-girl manner. “We’ve just heard from PP. He wants you to come back to New York with SondraBeth. He wants to meet you.”
Judy began drawing Pandy along with her, nodding her head and smiling conspiratorially. “You’ll stay in the basement guest room in SondraBeth’s townhouse. It’s fantastic; it has its own separate entrance.”
And the next thing Pandy knew, the bodyguards had surrounded her, and she was being bundled into the back of an SUV. I need to call Henry! she thought wildly as the doors slammed shut and the car started forward with a jerk. As Wallis House disappeared around the mountain, she had a startling thought:
She had just been kidnapped by her own creation.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A GOOD OLD New York City pothole woke her up.
She bounced and hit the back of the seat. Once again, it felt like her head was on fire.
It wasn’t, but the place where she had hit her head two nights before, when she had fallen off the couch during the party in her apartment, was suddenly reinflamed.
That had happened on Wednesday. Was it a mere forty-eight hours ago when she was still innocent? When she was still happy?
When she was still PJ Wallis?
“Hellenor, are you awake?” Judy asked. She was seated in the row ahead. She turned and looked at Pandy across the top of the seat.
The lump on the back of Pandy’s head throbbed. She winced. Pain. Good, sharp, come-to-your-senses pain. There was nothing like it in an emergency.
“Yes,” she answered, through gritted teeth.
“Would you like some water?” Judy asked.
