“I think the reason I wanted to interview you partially was because of that. You do remind me of my sister. And, well, I thought I could do an interview that would do you justice, do her justice too, I guess.” I shrugged. “In a way?” I raised my eyebrows into my hairline, opened my palms up on my lap and waited for whatever was due me. I was such a sneak, such a bad person.
“I’m touched, Shannon,” she said in her breathy, sexy tone, her expression brightening, almost becoming flirtatious. But I didn’t get any sexual vibes, thank goodness. No, this woman was made of something else, and it was dark and deep. She was damaged goods, clear through. I reminded myself she was dangerous.
“I hope you didn’t take offense, Rebecca.”
“On the contrary. If I’d had a little sister, I could only hope that she would have been one half as sweet and cute as you, honey. But you’ve touched me. I want to help.”
Uh Oh. She. Said. Help.
“Tell me about her.”
“She was pretty.” I looked up at Rebecca’s eager face and the wild expression in her eyes and added, “Like you.”
“Ah, that’s nice of you to say. I’m not as pretty as I was once, but then, my next new boyfriend is going to be a plastic surgeon.”
“New boyfriend?”
“My last boyfriend was an attorney who helped me with the divorce. I am eternally grateful, too. But my next one will be a gifted surgeon who loves to travel.”
I tried to giggle but it came out more like the lament of a pained cat. I coughed and took another long sip of mineral water.
“Go on. Tell me more about her. I’m fascinated.”
“She was fun loving. She loved people, and was always the life of the party.”
“And you always felt mousy instead, am I right?”
That was not information she was entitled to. It was only half of it, anyhow. I didn’t feel mousy, I felt ignored because Em was such the favorite of my parents. I’d even told my mom one day when we argued years later that I wish I’d been the one killed so they could have had a life instead of the life they had with me. I got a slap for that comment, and then a hug, and then we both burst into tears. My mother did the best she could, but her heart was irreparably broken.
“You’re perceptive,” I lied.
“How did she die?”
“It was an auto accident.”
“Oh, so sad. You never got to say good-bye.” Her lower lip was protruding, but it almost looked like she was mocking me. I began to see more difference between her and my sister. She didn’t really have an ounce of compassion in her body.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Did she die right away, at the scene?”
The hairs at the back of my neck began to stand up. Did she have some morbid desire to dig into my pain, my past?
“Yes, we think so. My parents were devastated.”
Rebecca stood, and stared off into the dark bay, the lights of the pool and landscaped grounds reflecting back into her face, giving it a chilling light from beneath her chin like in some horror movie.
“What was her name?” she said absent-mindedly.
Did she suspect who I was? Even Marco didn’t know who I was. I scrambled, but my tongue was thick and my brain didn’t function like it normally did.
“C-Connie,” I blurted out. “Like Connie Stevens, the singer. Mom named her after her.”
Rebecca nodded, and opened the sliding glass door slowly, with cat-like movements.
“Come see the beautiful lights and the early morning air. It will be sunrise soon, Shannon.”
“I-I’m afraid of heights, Rebecca. I’m so sorry, but I think maybe I should be getting home. I do go in early tomorrow. I have to set up my—”
Then I thought about the interview. I had neglected to ask her any questions. I had nothing to go work on. I could do background, but I’d already done some of that previously researching Marco.
“Can I ask you some quick questions for the interview? I’d really rather talk about something else, if you don’t mind. This was supposed to be all about you and the project. And if I stand out there on the balcony, I’ll unload all my dinner over the good people out there.” I gave a sickly whinny.
She was the one being morose and very, very odd. She looked down. “Lovers. There are only lovers out tonight, walking around the pathways, stealing kisses amongst the large palm fronds, watching the koi and listening to the cicadas.”
“Sounds beautiful, but I’m still staying put right here. If you don’t want to do it tonight, how about you come into the station tomorrow? It’s only a half hour drive. Would you agree to that?”
“I can do that,” she said as she closed the glass door, locked it and floated over to sit at a forty-five-degree angle to me. She studied me. “Ask some of your questions now so I know the approach you’ll take and I’ll be prepared.”
I fumbled for my cell phone, where I’d stored several questions. There was a call I’d missed from Boston, since I’d turned off my ringer. I scrolled to my notepad.
“Um, we already know you like to dance and sing. Tell me about the project and why this is so important to you?”
“Because Navy SEALs deserve a home. They fight. They leave their whole lives out there on the battlefield. Sometimes, they come back empty. They lose their families often, everyone but their brothers. So many of them die lonely, and without the support of those who loved them
