you.”
And then he turned and walked off into the darkness while Evangeline sat hugging her knees, an odd little catch in her chest.
She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but it was funny how exhaustion and mental anguish could sometimes be your best friend.
After checking on J.D., Evangeline curled up in bed, staring into the darkness as her thoughts tumbled one over another.
She thought about all those pictures of Johnny and Sonny Betts, the meticulous surveillance documentation, the tapped phone conversations that the FBI had assembled against her husband.
She thought about her parents’ troubled marriage and the hell that Vaughn had put them through. They’d survived untold heartache over the years only to end up separated because her father was restless and her mother was not an easy woman to love.
She thought about the night J.D. had been born and the day she’d brought him home from the hospital, and she wondered if she would ever be able to love him the way he deserved to be loved.
She thought about the bizarre story Lena Saunders had told her about two little girls named Ruth and Rebecca. One innocent, one a murderer.
She thought about origami cranes and the man with the scarred face.
And just before she fell asleep, she thought of Declan Nash. He had a daughter named Jamie and an ex-wife named Deb.
And he had come to Evangeline’s house tonight because he wanted to see her.
Sometime later, Evangeline awakened to a strange sound. This time she knew it wasn’t the television because she hadn’t turned it on. The sound was again coming from the baby monitor on her bedside table.
But there was no music this time. What she heard was the sound of J.D. fretting and a strange woman’s voice soothing him that chilled her blood.
“Shush. She’ll hear you.”
A woman leaned over the railing of J.D.’s crib. She was on the opposite side from the door, away from the night-light, and for a moment she seemed no more than a ghostly outline that blended seamlessly into the shadows.
Evangeline blinked, praying the mirage would disappear even as she gripped her weapon in both hands and took aim. Her heart hammered so hard she could scarcely breathe, but her finger on the trigger was steady.
“Move away from the crib!”
Slowly, the woman looked up, but she didn’t step away or even straighten. Her face was hidden by a cowl of blond hair that fell forward from a center part. There was something strange and otherworldly about her featureless visage, and Evangeline felt the coldest kind of dread settle in the pit of her stomach.
“Step back,” she said, “before I blow your fucking head off.”
The woman’s hands were inside the crib, and as she straightened, she lifted J.D. over the rail and held him in front of her. “There, there,” she crooned.
Panic exploded in Evangeline’s chest. She wanted desperately to keep a clear head, but even after hearing the woman’s voice coming from the baby monitor, she had never expected to find anything like this. She didn’t know what to do. Terror had momentarily disabled all her training and common sense.
Without a clear shot, the gun was useless. Besides, she would never dare chance even a warning shot with the baby so close. Nor could she risk trying to get to the phone. Any sudden move might set the woman off.
So at the moment, there were no options, Evangeline quickly concluded. She and J.D. were at this person’s mercy.
The baby roused and whimpered, then dropped his little head against the woman’s shoulder as she began to massage his back. She hummed the music-box tune, and the haunting melody sent a chill up Evangeline’s already frozen spine.
“Please,” she whispered. “Just give me the baby and leave. I don’t know who you are or what you want….” Her voice cracked and she took a moment to get herself under control. “Just put him down and walk away.”
“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt him. I would never do that.”
“Prove it,” Evangeline pleaded. “Give him to me.”
As she took a step into the room, the woman eased farther back into the shadows. “Not yet.” Her hand continued to make circles on J.D.’s back. He sniveled in his sleep, and she held him even closer then kissed the top of his head. “Put your gun on the dresser and move back to the door.”
When Evangeline hesitated, the woman said, “Please, just do as I say. Guns are so dangerous. If anything were to happen to this precious baby, you’d never be able to live with yourself.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll do anything you say. Just please don’t hurt him.” Evangeline put the gun on the dresser and then stepped back into the doorway.
The woman moved over to the window and the nebulous silhouette that had been almost invisible in the shadows took on a real form in the glow of moonlight that seeped in through the glass. She was only a few steps away, and Evangeline wondered if she could rush her and grab J.D. before she had time to hurt him.
It was a chance she wasn’t willing to take. Not yet.
Evangeline scrutinized the intruder. She was pale and thin, and she wore a plain, dark skirt, shapeless cardigan and tennis shoes. With her free hand, she pushed one side of her long, thick hair from her face, and it tumbled in a tangled, blond mess over one shoulder.
“What do you want?” Evangeline asked in a calm, reasonable tone. “Tell me so we can end this.”
“I have a story to tell you.”
Evangeline swallowed. “Okay. But why don’t you put the baby in the crib. We can talk in the other room.”
She smiled over the top of J.D.’s head. “I think it would be better if we talk in here.”
“We might wake up the baby. You don’t want to do that.”
“But without the baby, you won’t listen to me. And if you don’t know the whole story, you won’t be able to understand. So far, you’ve only heard
“Her?”
“My sister.” She looked up and the light from the window caught her in such a way that Evangeline saw another face, also thin and pale, but more refined. More elegant.
The resemblance in that moment was so uncanny, she didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it right off.
“You’re Rebecca,” she said softly. “And Lena Saunders is your sister, Ruth.”
Why hadn’t the woman told her the truth? Evangeline wondered. Why pretend she was someone else? Lena Saunders and Ruth Lemay were one and the same. And now Evangeline stood facing Rebecca Lemay. What kind of strange game were the sisters playing with her?
Rebecca Lemay nuzzled the top of J.D.’s head and drew a deep breath, as if trying to drink in the very essence of the sleeping child.
And Evangeline went weak in the knees.
According to Lena Saunders—Ruth Lemay—this was a woman who, as a child, had helped her mother murder one of their young brothers. This was a woman who, as an adult, had killed at least three men in cold blood.
And now she held Evangeline’s sleeping son in her arms. Her cheek was against the baby’s head as she rocked him back and forth.
Chill after chill swept over Evangeline. The scene before her seemed surreal. It couldn’t possibly be happening, and yet…it was.
