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Renee took a breath, held it a moment, then released it slowly. “You know…it’s…kind of surprising…what you can stumble across. Like fate’s intervened. I’m not trying to sound like Tamara,” she added quickly. “It’s just, working on Jessie’s story and then having that skeleton appear at St. Lizzie’s.” She hesitated. “It would be nice to have a source in the police department to find out, y’know?”
Becca nodded.
Renee made a face. “Sometimes…well, this is going to sound strange because I really do want to write that story, but sometimes I wonder if we should really open Pandora’s box. Maybe we should let bad things lie. Go with the Sitka spruce nostalgia and leave digging into graves alone.”
“You were the one who called the meeting at Blue Note,” Becca reminded her in surprise.
“I know. I’m not giving up.” She ran her hands through her short, dark hair. “I don’t know why I’m going back and forth on this.” She switched gears and, frowning at herself, picked up a small wedge of Edam cheese. “I guess I can try this.” She took an experimental bite. “So tell me more about your trip to the maze.”
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Becca dutifully described her trip to St. Elizabeth’s, including the moment when she felt there was something there, something…if not evil, certainly not good. Renee listened attentively and Becca finished with, “I don’t want to sound crazy or anything. It was raining and hailing and windy, and I was probably more susceptible than usual. But it was more than that. I really felt like I wasn’t alone.”
“Did you think Jessie was there?”
Becca shot her a look to determine whether she was patronizing her, but Renee appeared totally serious as she blew across her cup, then took a swallow of coffee. “No. Not Jessie.”
“Who, then?”
“No one, I guess. No one I saw, anyway. It was just a feeling, and maybe I was just too susceptible. The atmosphere: the dark, the maze, the Madonna. It spooked me.”
“You don’t have to make excuses,” Renee said. “I believe you. I’ve had some experiences that weren’t…explainable.” She glanced to her side, to make certain the trio of women on their second glasses of wine weren’t eavesdropping. They were too caught up in their own conversation to give a second glance Becca and Renee’s way.
“Like what?” Becca asked, prodding.
Renee hesitated. “I know we’ve never been the closest of friends. Maybe that’s more my fault than yours, but…this should be all in the past now.” She narrowed her gaze, seemed to want to say something again, then thought better of it. Finally, she added, “Sometimes I have a feeling of persecution. Like someone’s after me. But then, I’ve written a few articles that have reall
y pissed some people off, so maybe they are!”
She laughed and Becca saw the resemblance between Renee and Hudson’s humor for the first time. “Do you think, like Tamara, that Jessie might still be alive?” Becca asked.
“Oh, no. Those are Jessie’s bones,” she stated positively, her demeanor instantly sobering as she polished off the cheese. “I’m sure she’s dead. Long dead.” She peered at Becca. “I was told she was.”
“By who?”
“A crazy old woman who believes she can read the future.” She smiled faintly.
“Oh.” Becca watched her slowly spin her cup again. “You think it could have been just an accident?”
As if suddenly remembering what her cup was for, Renee brought it to her lips and took a long swallow. “Maybe Evangeline was right. Maybe Jessie was planning to run away. She said bad things were coming her way. Trouble. She wasn’t kidding around, you know, like she sometimes did. Well, like she did a lot, actually. But this time I don’t think she was joking. She meant it. She said, ‘Trouble’s going to find me.’”
“She said that to you?”
Renee nodded and Becca realized she was revealing one of her last, if not her very last, conversations with Jessie. “You told that cop what she said?”
“McNally? Are you kidding? I wasn’t going to tell him anything.” Renee shook her head at the memory. “I was too freaked. I did say she probably ran away again, because that’s what I really thought. I wasn’t going to tell them what our last conversation was. I kind of thought it was sacred, at the time. I was sixteen,” she reminded Becca with faint irony. “Jessie was my friend and I wanted to protect her, I guess. Her parents were kind of weird. Do you remember?”
Becca shook her head. “Jessie and I were more like acquaintances.”
Renee cocked an eyebrow. “You were connected to Tamara the most, right? You were in the class below us…?” She left it as a question because at St. Elizabeth’s, like high schools everywhere, students tended to stick with their own classmates as if there were invisible fences between the grades.
“Tamara and I had a class together,” Becca said. “We worked on a couple of projects as a team and got to know each other.” This was practically a lie, but Becca didn’t know whether she could admit that she’d worked hard on that friendship. All so she could be part of their group, so she could be nearer to Hudson. It was all so juvenile and downright embarrassing now! She could even feel her face heating and she took a swig of her water, hoping to hide her reaction.
“Did you like my brother even then?”
Becca opened her mouth to respond, thought better of it, then gave Renee a sideways look. All she saw on Hudson’s sister’s face was mild interest, so Becca gave her a jerky nod. “Yeah. High school crush.” She picked up a small orange slice and bit into it.
“I thought so. Jessie certainly thought so, too, and she believed Hudson returned your feelings. Maybe he did.”
