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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 of Blue Note.”
Tamara smiled gratefully.
“Everything’s free at Blue Note,” Scott murmured, then waved away the remark as if he were just kidding.
“I’d love to know if those bones belong to Jessie,” Evangeline said, once the waiters had disappeared back through the doors and she was helping herself to the calamari.
“So the cop didn’t kill her?” Jarrett asked, pretending wide-eyed shock.
“I don’t know,” Evangeline said with an edge. “None of us do.”
