Cassie looked down at her hands then, all traces of a smile leaving her expression. She leaned forward, setting her Diet Coke beside a paper plate containing a half-eaten slice of pizza. The antique coffee table was covered with the remains of the lunch they had ordered and eaten since Annabelle and Jack had gone off on their own.
Cassie leaned back and looked thoughtful then. She was unaware that everyone in the room was watching her now.
“I suppose there’s no harm in you knowing.” She spoke softly, but her voice carried clearly across the room. She stood up and nodded at Dylan. After a brief pause, he took the hint and stood as well. Then Cassie led him out of the study, down the hall toward the first-level bedrooms and the staircase that led to the second floor.
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side, his gaze narrowing on the young woman as she led the Anderson kid away. Cassie Reid had no way of knowing it, but the truth was, Sam knew all about Annabelle’s secret. There were few secrets that Samuel Price
Down the hall, Cassie led Dylan into one of the empty rooms and closed the door behind her. She turned to Dylan. “We’re sort of in this mess together and we all have our own secrets. She knows yours and she trusts you, doesn’t she?”
Dylan nodded, not understanding.
“Trust comes with knowing that the person you trust has empathy for you.” She explained, speaking in little more than a whisper. “Annabelle knows what you’ve been through. So, she knows you’ll be there for her. That you’ll understand what she’s going through should anything happen to her.”
Again, Dylan nodded.
“And you should know what she’s been through,” she continued. “For the same reason.”
Dylan swallowed now, shoving his hands into his pockets, his expression turning very serious. He was hearing what Cassie said with more than his ears now. His heart was listening too.
“Annabelle wasn’t born an only child,” Cassie began. “She had a twin brother. His name was Daniel.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. His pallor turned white, and then even gray. Cassie could understand why.
Annabelle didn’t have a twin brother now.
“Among other things, Annabelle’s father worked as a volunteer fire fighter in Lakeview, Louisiana. You know – one of the neighborhoods that really got ripped to shreds by Katrina.”
Dylan nodded, numbly.
“Long before Katrina came through, on their eleventh birthday, Annabelle’s father took her and Daniel to work with him. They wanted to see ‘Big Red,’ the new engine at the fire house, and since it was their birthday and all....” Cassie paused and made her way to a bed nearby, then took a seat, folding and clasping her hands in her lap. “While they were there, a call came in. A small plane had gone down in Lake Pontchartrain. It was on fire and, apparently,” she swallowed, clearing her throat. “Apparently, there were people trapped inside and the plane was very slowly sinking.”
“To make a long story short, Ann’s dad took off and, Daniel, who was pretty sure he was Superman, snuck off to go with him. Mr. Drake didn’t know his son had tagged along. I guess he hid on the truck somewhere.” Cassie shook her head, as if watching the scene take place in her own mind.
“They got to the site and it was already crawling with every emergency medical technician or cop who could make it there in a reasonable space of time.” Cassie sighed and shrugged. “What happened next is sort of messed up, and the accounts differ a little. But, Annabelle said that her father’s friends came to the house all at once.”
“To tell them…” Dylan’s voice trailed off.
“To tell her mother that both her husband and her son had been lost in the accident.”
“How?” Dylan asked, not understanding. And, sort of not wanting to.
Cassie took another deep breath and let it out in another long sigh. “Daniel must have seen something that got to him. Maybe a face in a window. There were kids on the plane.”
“And he went in to save them.”
Cassie nodded. “And his dad went in after him. The plane pulled them both down along with it.”
Sam felt the phone buzz in his front pocket and pulled it out to glance at the number. He grinned and then looked up to see Reid and Anderson make their way back into the room. It was obvious that she’d told him Annabelle’s secret, because the kid was white as a sheet.
Sam looked back down at the phone, popped it open, and put it to his ear. The others around him were just finishing up with cleaning away the remains of their lunch; tossing the pizza boxes and paper plates and dumping what was left of their Cokes and melted ice. Now they turned to watch and listen as he spoke into the receiver.
“Hi darlin’,” he said, well aware that he had an audience. He ignored them and turned to look at the door through which Jack and Annabelle had disappeared earlier. “Yep, he sure is.” His grin broadened and his eyes shone merrily. “Uh-huh.” He chuckled. “Sure, come on over. We’re in number seven.” He paused again and tore his eyes away from the door to glance over the eager faces of the others. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “I think it’s about time, darlin’. Don’t you?” He laughed again and closed the phone, re-pocketing it.
“What the hell was that all about?” Cassie asked.
“Who’s coming over?” Craig asked next. His trepidation level had just escalated. And for good reason. There were some powerful and persistent people who wanted him dead.
“Nothin’ for you to worry about, son,” Sam said, his low, casual drawl a dead-ringer for the shit-eating nonchalance of actor Sam Elliot, whom everyone in the room agreed that he resembled to a nearly baffling degree.
“Sam, wha’ ‘ave you brought upon us?” Beatrice asked, her tone gentler than that of Craig or Cassie before her.
Sam turned to look at her and bowed his head slightly in her direction. “Now, don’t worry, Bee. You’ll get as much a kick out of this as I will.” He grinned again and winked.
When Annabelle and Jack finally emerged from the room they’d claimed for an entire afternoon, it was to find everyone in the room seated on the two couches and love seats and staring at them with wide eyes. Jack’s hands found her upper arms and gripped gently.
“What?” Annabelle asked, rubbing her eyes and blushing furiously. “We fell asleep, okay?” She insisted. From the puffiness around her eyes, it was clear she was telling the truth, but everyone in the room knew that sleeping wasn’t
“Give me a break,” Annabelle muttered. But their eyes didn’t un-widen, and so far, no one had said anything. “It’s my birthday! I’m entitled to a little… sleep.” Annabelle blushed some more and looked from one of them to the other, until she met Cassie’s eyes. Cassie’s expression was incredibly meaningful as she gave a very slight jerk of her head to the right.
“Happy birthday, Miss Drake.”
Annabelle’s gaze flew across the room to the red-haired woman standing beside the fire place. Jack’s grip on her arms tightened.
“Oh, holy fuck…” Annabelle’s voice trailed off, just as the blood drained from her face and the world dropped out from under her feet.
She stared at Sherry Thane as if the woman were wearing a black holocaust cloak and carrying a scythe. And maybe sprouting gazelle horns and muttering dark incantations in Homer Simpson’s voice.
“
“Sh-Sherry…” Annabelle found herself stumbling over her speech. But, strangely enough, as she stood there watching the incredibly built woman, she noticed that Sherry was smiling. And it wasn’t a cruel, “I caught you red- handed” smile. It was friendly. Sympathetic, even.
Was Annabelle dreaming? Maybe she’d already fainted.
