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My heart drop in my chest, and I ask frantically, “Hello? Who is this? Is Miranda okay? Hello?”
Between sobs and sniffs, I hear the only voice I want to hear right now: Miranda’s. “George, it’s me. I’m okay. It’s Eliza. Eliza, is, missing.”
I stand up and start to pace. Miranda is okay, so my blood can pump again and make my brain work. “Okay. It’s okay. I think it’s the lady in red, Miranda. She’s not after me. I don’t know why I am the one who has been seeing her, but it’s not me she wants. It’s Eliza she was after. She seduced her, with a song…” I stop in my tracks and practically scream into the phone. I can’t believe the answer wasn’t more apparent to me before this moment.
“Miranda, she’s a siren!”
Chapter 17
Miranda
“Miranda,she’sasiren!”
George’s words echo in my head. My head that is empty, aside from the snot pouring from my face because my best friend is missing. No. Not missing. Kidnapped. By a motherfucking siren.
“George, you need to explain what the actual fuck you are talking about. I can’t think straight right now. Who’s a fucking siren?” I pace around the deck, staring through the panes of glass at Tabitha, securely snuggled between Natalia and Sam on the couch while Phoebe reads to them, but I don’t really see them. All I can think about is what’s taking place on the other side of the house, out of sight of all the kids. Rory is talking to the police, again. And he must be a mess. Thank goodness Jake was home when they came back. He insisted on going outside to be with Rory through whatever news the officers have to report.
George’s voice cuts through my brain fog. “The lady in red. The one in my dream. I don’t know why I saw her at the restaurant the other night or why I’m dreaming about her, but I just had another vision or whatever they are. She was watching you on the boardwalk with Eliza. She saw you hug, and then Eliza walked one way and you walked the other, and the lady started to sing.”
I think back over the day. “We did hug on the boardwalk before she headed back to the house a few hours ago. That was the last any of us saw her before she went missing. But I didn’t notice anyone in red near us. I mean, fuck. I don’t know. This place is fucking packed this weekend. Maybe there was, and I didn’t notice? I didn’t hear anyone singing though. But who the fuck knows? It’s so loud here!”
“Okay, I don’t have much to tell you right now. I’m going to hang up so I can look through the library for information.”
“I’ll call you if I get anything. You just stay with your family and keep everyone else safe.” He takes a breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is slower and softer, with less urgency and more care. “I hate that I’m not there to help you through all this.”
I nod, not that he can see me. “Yeah, but if you were, neither of us would be able to search through your handy dandy books. Maybe you should think about digitizing your collection. Then it could be portable, ya know?”
After a beat of silence, George says, “Yes, if only there were some virtual well of knowledge we could have at the tips of our fingers whenever we need. Maybe we could name it the internet.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, my best friend is missing. Shut the fuck up.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood, boss.”
“Don’t lighten the mood, docent. Do your fucking job.” But right before I hang up, I realize I should have said more to Eliza before she walked away from me on the boardwalk, so I blurt into the phone, “I love you and thank you and please stay safe yourself.”
I stare through the windows into the living room again, but this time I’m able to appreciate the scene. The sight of all my big kids with Eliza’s tiny one causes a fresh batch of sobs to rack through me, bringing me to my knees. I can’t comprehend the idea of Tabby not having her mother. Eliza is such a good mom. She is fiercely protective of that little ball of pudge and that little girl deserves to have someone who would do anything for her. My heart pounds away in my chest and it gets harder to pull air into my lungs. I grab for my wrist but I don’t have my bracelet. Shit. What was it again? Five things I can see…this little angel’s life crumbling around her, myself and my own children trying to fill in the holes, Rory dissolving into a shell of who he is with Eliza… no, this isn’t right.
Okay, let’s try this again. In, two, three, four, five, six, seven. As I hold for four counts my heart is struggling to keep its tempo against my attempts to slow the racing beat. But after the complete breath cycle it loses the fight and I feel the beats space out.
Then a voice pops into my head, clearer than any thought: This is my fault. I’ve heard this voice before. I try to turn it off, but the voice is too engrained in me. For years, for what feels like my entire life, it has popped into my head whenever I feel I am failing, whenever I am not perfect. Because not being perfect was failing when I was growing up. I pick up my phone and, with shaking hands, I text Jake.
I need to tell Rory about me.
Because he’s with Rory at this very moment, Jake knows better than I do what state the man is in.
How is that going to help? This isn’t about you...Wait, is it?
I want to throw up as I reply to him, my husband who knows first-hand the dangers that come with being associated with the Guardian.
I think it is. I just talked to George. He thinks a siren seduced Eliza.
Almost immediately he responds.
Why does he think that?
I hesitate to write back, but I know I need to.
Well, the imps I caught outside of the diner may have stopped by this morning… I got some intel that someone was trying to seduce George, so I sent that info on to him and put it out of my head so it wouldn’t ruin our vacation.
