Renee took the place of Scott’s image: Jessie’s from high school, Renee’s head shot much more recent.
Becca located the remote, scooped it off the coffee table, and clicked off the television. The image of Hudson’s twin disappeared.
She sank onto the couch and let out her breath.
Would it ever end?
She found it hard to fathom that Scott had killed Glenn and Mitch, but she really couldn’t believe he’d murdered either Jessie or Renee.
Then who?
Touching her abdomen, she recalled her last vision, then thought about the baby and, of course, Hudson. Now was the time to be completely honest with him. She knew that. If they were ever going to have any relationship, they had to trust each other implicitly. No lies. No equivocations. No damned secrets.
“Come on,” she said to the dog, and snapped on his leash. It was getting dark, the watery March sunshine fading into twilight. She let Ringo sniff each twig and branch as the sound of rush-hour traffic on the Pacific Highway only blocks from her condo reached her ears.
She gazed back at the condo. Was it all too soon? She’d lived here with Ben, hoped to have a family with him, but then that relationship had been based on lies. She wouldn’t make the same mistake with Hudson. Maybe it was finally time to let go of the past and sell this condo. Time for a fresh start. With Hudson Walker.
He’d told her he loved her. Sure, it was in a moment of joy upon learning they would be new parents, but he’d meant it. And she’d certainly meant it when she’d told him back. And so he hadn’t said it again. He’d shown her in a lot of other ways. And if they could ever learn what really happened to Jessie, she felt the last issues between them would be resolved.
Picking up her mail from the box, a fistful of bills, credit card offers, and advertisements, Becca waited for Ringo to do his business, then headed inside. Not for the first time, she wondered why her visions of Jessie were backdropped by the ocean—a stormy, raging sea where she could hear the roar of the surf, feel the tide pound the shore, taste the brine on her tongue.
The answer was somewhere in the cliffs overlooking the angry ocean, and Jessie was adamant that she tell no one about it. In her recent visions, Jessie had been warning her, shushing her. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone of her visions, that much was clear. But she’d already confided in Hudson.
That had probably been a mistake. Not only might he think her a nutcase, but she might have inadvertently put his life in danger. There was a chance that Jessie was warning her to be quiet for Hudson’s safety.
Or her child’s.
Either way, she felt, the answers to everything wouldn’t be found in the soil, debris, or bones at St. Elizabeth’s maze. The answers would be found somewhere on the Oregon coast, most likely in the town of Deception Bay.
Becca stood for a moment in the fading light, struck by the thought. What had taken her so long to recognize that? That’s where Renee’s research on Jessie had taken place. That’s where the answers were.
Becca hurried Ringo along, back to the condo. Now that she’d made that decision, she wanted to go. It was early evening and it was a two-hour drive. She could be there by seven, or maybe eight, if it took her a while to pack.
“Ready for a ride?” she said to Ringo, who dogged her anxiously, sensing her new determination. She pulled her cell phone out of its charger and put a call in to Hudson.
As she waited for him to answer, she packed a few things into an overnight bag, then once her call was forwarded to his voicemail, left a quick message that she was heading out of town for the beach.
He called her back almost instantly. “I’m right on the way. Pick me up. I can be ready in twenty minutes.”
“You want to go?”
“I want answers, too, Becca. And you’re right, Renee was researching Jessie, following in her footsteps. Something happened, and I want to know what it was.”
“Well, okay,” she said. “I’m putting Ringo in the car and I’ll be at your place in about half an hour depending on traffic.”
“Lookin’ forward to it.”
I love you, she thought, but she didn’t say it.
“I’m a coward,” she told the dog as she settled him into his fuzzy car seat.
He looked at her and wagged his tail.
By the time Becca’s car slid into his driveway, Hudson had cared for the horses and few head of cattle, called Emile Rodriguez to come by and feed and water the stock the following day, made arrangements for a place to stay at the beach online, showered and changed. He was just stuffing a change of clothes into an overnight bag when he spied her headlights against the trunks of the oak and fir trees near the mailbox.
He hurried downstairs and locked the door behind him just as she pulled to a stop near the front porch. Ringo, true to form, was barking his fool head off and wasn’t all that happy to be relegated to the backseat as Hudson slid into the passenger seat.
“Sorry, bud,” he said as the dog gave one final bark and settled into a tiny bed Becca had brought for him.
Becca was on the phone and held up a finger when he settled into the seat. “Yeah…sure…I’ll call you if and when I know anything else, but you’re right. It’s a shock.” She looked at Hudson and mouthed, “Tamara.” Hudson nodded. He’d already been fielding calls from The Third and Jarrett about Scott. No one would have pegged him for a murderer. Everyone was shocked. Jarrett wanted to believe that Scott had killed Jessie and Renee as well. Christopher Delacroix III didn’t think so. Otherwise the cops would have booked him for all the murders already.
“It’s a pisser,” The Third had said when he’d called earlier. “A real pisser. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How well you really know someone.”
“You can never know everything,” Hudson told him. “You get the public side, not the private.”
“Do you think we’re safe now?” The Third had asked him.
“Safe?”
“From whoever did this. If Scott really didn’t kill your sister and Jessie, then who did? We’re running out of friends. Either way, I’ve got a .357 magnum by my bed. No mother-fucker’s going to mess with me and not know it. I’ll blow his fuckin’ head off. Got another call coming in. Gotta run.”
“Sure, I’ll call,” Becca was winding up her call. She fingered the ignition with her free hand, then cast a glance at Hudson. “Yeah, I know…Weird. When I get back into town, we’ll get together. Bye.” Becca disconnected and slid a glance at Hudson. “Tamara’s having a tough time with this.”
Hudson suddenly leaned over and kissed her, hard, on the lips and smiled at the scent and taste of her. God, he wanted to drag her out of the car this very second and take her upstairs. To lose himself in her for hours. To forget the hell they’d all lived with for the past couple of months. But like Becca, he wanted closure.
Becca wheeled the car around and drove down the lane. At the county road, she turned west toward the foothills
