all a crash course when he got here, but I was completely lost.”
“You understand more than you think.”
Duke kissed her temple as if his lips could cure her pain. Maybe, with a little time and privacy, they could. Nora leaned into him, giving in to his affection just for a moment.
A rap on the conference room door had Nora jumping a foot away from Duke, blushing to the roots of her hair. The receptionist walked in without waiting for an invite and handed Nora a thick stack of paper. She mumbled a thanks and looked at the information to hide her embarrassment as the woman left. But Nora pushed her personal thoughts aside: The fax was from Victorville Federal Penitentiary.
Each page had one line entry per visit. The name, date, relationship, time entering and time ending. The print was small and there were fifty or so entries per page.
April Plummer and Margaret O’Dell. Over and over. Occasionally another name Nora recognized, a few she didn’t. Theresa Lovitz visited five or six times in the first two years. Nora didn’t know who she was, but she was likely related to Cameron. A few other people visited Lorraine in the early years: Glenda Chastain. Mina Ro. Roger Nelson. As time passed, the visits from revolutionaries diminished. April still came by, sometimes with David O’Dell. And always Maggie. By the time Maggie was ten, she was visiting on her own, sometimes more than once a month. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie …
Nora had to go back and look again. She couldn’t be reading the logs right.
Nora flipped rapidly through the pages in disbelief. She went back, counted. Counted again. Twenty-three visits in the last eleven years. Twice a year Quin visited Lorraine. The first time the month she turned eighteen.
Nora wanted to believe it was a mistake. But of course it wasn’t. It was here in black and white. Quin had lied to Nora. She’d been seeing their mother all these years and had never said anything.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Duke asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Quin,” she mumbled. She shoved the papers at him, hitting the stack with her fist as he took them. Nora was shaking, her knuckles white. “My sister. All these years. Going down there to see
“You mean Lorraine?” He put the papers down. “You didn’t know?”
“Damn straight I didn’t know! I told her never to talk to her.”
Duke didn’t say anything, and Nora whirled around, willing herself to stop shaking. She didn’t know if she was more angry or scared. Duke looked closely at her, uncertainty in his eyes. He still didn’t say anything. “What?” she snapped. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You told Quin not to have contact with her mother.”
“Nora-Quin was nine when Lorraine went to prison.”
“What difference does that make?”
“She wasn’t old enough to understand.”
“Cameron left her alone in the middle of nowhere at night and my mother went along with it. Quin was always terrified of the dark.” Duke didn’t understand. Maybe he never could. Suddenly, Nora was alone again. Deeply, irrevocably, alone. She’d been lonely most of her life, and she knew better than to think that would ever change.
She turned away from Duke. She had to protect her sister. Quin was all she had. “I need to talk to her.”
“Nora, you’re not in this alone. I told you earlier-I’m not walking away.”
Duke tried to pull Nora to him, to hold her, just for a minute, to prove to her that he meant what he said. She pulled away, took several steps back. From the look on her face, she didn’t believe him. Righteous anger began to creep up within him, but dissipated when Duke realized that Nora was scared. She’d taken so very long to let him inside, even just a little, because she was terrified. She’d been alone for thirty-seven years, practically since she was born, raising herself and then Quin and never having anyone to count on.
She’d even said that the FBI agent who’d been her handler had lied to her. That must have hurt her almost as much as her mother’s selfish behavior. Maybe more, because she must have deeply trusted him in order to be his informant.
Duke watched Nora storm out of the room. His heart twisted with her pain. But there was no way he was letting her leave alone. He followed.
She needed him, whether she acknowledged it or not.
Maggie sat at the bus stop and ate an apple as she watched Quin leave her downtown Sacramento office building and walk down the street with three people from the state fire inspector’s office. Even if Quin happened to glance her way, she wouldn’t recognize Maggie. She’d put her long hair up in a baseball cap and wore sunglasses. Hardly incognito, but the disguise didn’t stand out. The sun was bright and a lot of people wore sunglasses and caps.
She tossed the apple core into the trash can chained to the bench and followed her sister with her eyes until Quin turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
If it wasn’t for Nora English, Quin would have been her sister. Her full sister. They would have grown up together, been best friends, done everything together. Inseparable.
