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“It does. I’m so sorry.”
“Chloe doesn’t think her dad loved her, and I was trying to tell her that I missed him, too, and that he missed her and . . . I don’t know. I’m worried about her. She seemed to be taking his death too well, so it’s good that she’s talking a little bit about her feelings. I don’t know what to do.”
“Come to the meeting,” Vivian insisted. “This is exactly the kind of thing we work out as a group.”
Elizabeth held up her hands, palms out. “I’m not that great with groups.”
“Are you kidding? You’re totally great. You’re a founding member of our Moms Group!”
Elizabeth half-laughed and decided that she should do something, anything to help her get past Court’s death and the guilt surrounding it. “Okay.”
“Okay, you’ll come tomorrow?”
“Talk to me in the morning.”
“I will.”
Vivian went into a stall and Elizabeth washed her hands. She returned to the table alone, walking past the outdoor bar, glancing around the benches and fire pits. Night had long descended. The shadows beyond the flickering flames were deep.
A cold frisson slid down her spine, a warning that someone was watching her, someone hidden in the unfathomable umbra. She shivered a little, then sharply scanned the people on the patio. No one seemed to be paying her any special attention. She squinted into the gathering darkness but saw no glint of hidden eyes.
Huh, she thought, ignoring her accelerating pulse. Now you’re getting paranoid.
The uneasy feeling chasing after her, she returned to the table and tried not to look over her shoulder to reassess the crowd, but she felt more than a little relief when Les rose to his feet and declared it was time to get going. Of course, no one would take any money from her for the meal, though she tried to pay, and soon she was heading into the cool evening air and across the parking lot to the Czurskys’ car.
She never shook the feeling that someone was watching.
Rex’s cell phone buzzed around midnight. He was still awake and on his laptop, seated in the leather recliner in his den with one light on and CNN on mute. He picked up the phone and recognized the number.
Ravinia.
“Where are you?” he asked, glancing at the clock.
“Costa Mesa.”
He wasn’t surprised. She gave him the cross streets to her location and added, “Are you going to come and get me or what?”
“How did you get here? I told you to stay in Santa Monica.” He was already up and heading for the entryway table where he swept up his keys, then grabbed his jacket from the back of the overstuffed chair where he’d tossed it earlier. The chair was a bit of a relic, in his opinion. It was a piece of furniture the woman he’d dated before Pamela had talked him into buying, claiming his house was too “bachelor.”
“I came by bus. And what good would it do me to stay?”
“I don’t know. Save you bus fare.” He was relieved she hadn’t hitchhiked.
“Are you coming?”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” he said shortly. Again, he felt responsible for her, which really pissed him off. “Don’t talk to anybody. Nobody out this time of night is worth talking to.”
“It’s not that late,” she said on a snort, then hung up.
Feeling like he was being swept along by forces beyond his control, he headed to the garage and his waiting Nissan.
Darling Elizabeth,
I saw you tonight and you sensed that I was there, didn’t you? You’re beginning to know how I feel about you, and you’re feeling it, too. It’s glorious. I’m almost in your sights as you’re in mine. The waiting is excruciating, but that’s what makes it so wonderful. But you’re looking for a sign of my love. I know you are.
Soon . . . soon . . . I will send you a message. I will take care of you and you’ll know we’re right for each other. We’re meant to be together. It’s just us against the world.
Watch and see what happens. A bright, shining flame will write across the night sky. A message meant for you.
