When he’d walked past the small town center, he looked down Maple Street, lined with old pine and oak trees, big yards and stately old Victorian houses. He remembered he’d thought about buying the old Farmington Victorian halfway down the block, but he’d decided to build his own house instead. He’d never regretted his decision.
The Merriweathers’ two-story cottage was a quarter mile west of town. He breathed in the pine-scented air and wondered if his brother was still in Paris or whether he’d run. Since Archer knew about the investigation, Sasha had to know too, no way around it. Where would they go? What countries didn’t have an extradition treaty? He’d read Tunisia and Madagascar and ever-pleasant Russia. Was Archer guilty? Was that the reason he’d taken Sasha to Paris, because he thought he didn’t have a choice? Why he’d brought Tash to him, because he knew what was coming? No, no, that couldn’t be right. He knew Archer, knew he was still crazy in lust with his wife, so that had been his only purpose, a long honeymoon. Yes, that was why he’d left the country. But why had he given Rebel only a couple of days’ warning?
Archer was years older than Rebel, smart and cagey. As a kid he could talk his way out of anything, and Rebel imagined he’d only gotten better at it. He was a charming, outgoing boy who’d talked Liz Murray out of her thong when he was fifteen and she an older woman of eighteen. Everyone admired him at school, were sure he’d be a success. He knew how to seem both charming and sincere. Rebel had to admit it—Archer was a master at manipulation, it was why he was so successful in finance. But was he a crook? Would he really strip his owncompany of its clients’ money and disappear? Rebel told himself yet again it simply wasn’t possible.
He turned into the sheriff’s long, graveled driveway lined with stately old Virginia pines, its yard brilliant with summer color. He liked the Merriweathers’ cottage—well, it was really more like a good-sized house. It was older, but well kept, painted a soft blue with white trim. Pots of petunias hung from the porch rafters, and rocking chairs lined the covered porch. He imagined the small tables set beside them were for iced tea, maybe guacamole and chips, on warm summer nights.
Rebel climbed the half dozen steps, knocked on the bright blue front door. In the next instant he heard Big Louie barking madly, running all out, his nails scrabbling on the hardwood floor.
He heard Joanna laughing. “Come on, Louie, back off.” She opened the door and smiled at him. She was wearing jeans and a Warriors sweatshirt with Steph Curry’s number thirty on the chest. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her feet were bare, her toenails a pretty sunset color. He was looking at Autumn in twenty years. “Rebel, how are you? Come on in. If you want Ethan, he’s at the office. And Autumn is with Tash.”
She stopped short, searched his face.
“This isn’t about my brother, Joanna. I’ll be speaking to Ethan about that situation. No, this is about Tash and Autumn. Can we talk?”
Chapter Fourteen
Seeing her pale, Rebel said quickly, “Nothing’s wrong, the kids are fine.” He smiled. “Big Louie sounded really scary.”
Joanna gave him a tentative smile back, gave a little laugh. “Don’t believe a bark out of his mouth. He gave you his signature performance.”
Rebel leaned down to scratch Big Louie’s head and petted Lula, who had joined them and arched up into his hand. Mackie rolled over beside Big Louie, who was now on his back, and Rebel went down on his haunches and stroked both their bellies. He grinned up at Joanna. “Do they all sleep with you and Ethan?”
“They begin the night with Autumn. Once she’s asleep, sooner or later they troop like little soldiers into our bedroom, Lula leading the way. They each have their own spot, and woe to the one who encroaches. Amazingly, it works. All of us sleep like logs, even though Big Louie tends to snore. Would you like some iced tea?” She looked at him closely. “Then you can tell me what the trouble is.”
The critters abandoned them in the bright yellow kitchen once they realized iced tea was the only offering on the menu.
As Rebel stirred lemon into his tea, Joanna said, “Rebel, I’m very sorry about your brother’s troubles. Have you spoken to Ethan yet? Or Tollie? You know, he’s retired FBI and he understands how these investigations work. Ethan told me he wasgoing to call FBI Special Agent Dillon Savich, see what exactly was happening. Do speak to him.”
“I’ll see Ethan next.” He didn’t know how to begin, what to say, but the words flew out. “Joanna, Tash told me he thinks he’s prescient, that Autumn told him he was. And he told me Autumn is telepathic. I honestly didn’t know what to say, and quite frankly I don’t know what to do. Has Autumn told you anything about this? It occurred to me Autumn might have been playing around with him, maybe trying to boost his confidence, and he believed it.”
Joanna saw the utter disbelief of the reasoning adult and understood. What should she say to him?
Rebel leaned forward. “Joanna, Autumn told Tash she had an uncle Blessed, that if someone looked Blessed in the eyes, he could make them do exactly what he told them to do. She made this Blessed sound like a freak out of a horror movie. Tash said Blessed is dead now. Please tell me if he was real, and what happened to him.”
She stared at him, nonplussed. Autumn had told Tash about Blessed? And Tash had told his uncle Rebel?
Rebel said, “I know he told Autumn he wouldn’t say anything about Blessed, but Tash is a little kid and it burst out. And to be frank, I had no idea what to say.”
Naturally Rebel didn’t want to believe it. Who would? She and Ethan had planned to tell Rebel themselves that Tash and Autumn weren’t like other children when they thought the time was right. They’d planned to explain to him what he thought was kids’ imagination, sheer fantasy, was real, that both Tash and Autumn were gifted. Well, Tash had jumped the gun, so there was no choice now. Rebel was Tash’s uncle, and for now, his only family here. How could he accept Tash for what he was unless she was honest with him?
She said slowly, “I know this will be very difficult to believe,you might even think I’m unhinged, but Blessed Backman and what he could do were very real. He was my first husband’s much older brother. There were three sons, all of them psychic. We believe Autumn inherited her gifts from her father.” She saw the disbelief on his face. “I know, I know, it’s very hard to accept, but there’s no choice: you will have to come to grips with it, Rebel, sooner or later. My husband Martin’s whole family were twisted and dangerous, drunk on their own power, insane really. Blessed was the most dangerous of them, and in addition to his gift, he was a psychopath, a monster. He didn’t need a gun, he could control another person just by looking into their eyes. This is the truth, Rebel: he could make them do anything he wanted, even kill themselves. He very nearly made me kill myself. Have you met Ox and Glenis, Ethan’s deputies? He took control of them once too, ‘stymied’ them, that’s what his family called it.” Joanna paused, stark images of it racing through her mind. She swallowed. “As it turned out, only Autumn could resist Blessed, and even more than that, she destroyed him.” Her voice caught. “She nearly died, Rebel. Her grandfather, a vile old man and Blessed’s father, shot her in the chest when he saw she was more powerful than he was and couldn’t control her, couldn’t get her on his side.” Joanna swallowed again, willed herself not to lose it. “It was nearly six years ago, but in my nightmares it’s happening right now.”
She saw Rebel had become very still. He was staring at her expressionless. Well, she’d started it, so now she had to finish it. “Every day I count my blessings the lot of them are dead. Whenever I see the scar on Autumn’s chest from the bullet wound I remember.” She took a drink of her tea, difficult with the lump in her throat.
She cleared her throat. “Rebel, I realize this is very hard for you to accept, but Autumn wasn’t playing with Tash or trying to boost his confidence. She believes he’s gifted, and believe me, she would know. If you are willing to suspend your disbelief fora while, as you writers call it, accept there may be a precious few people who are gifted psychically, you’ll be able to move forward with Tash, help him through everything that’s happening to him and his dad. You’re the only one who can. Know this for a fact—Autumn is nothing like her father’s family. Even at twelve, she’s responsible and sensible. She has a pure heart. She’s excited about what Tash can do, what they can do together. She’s the perfect friend and guide for him.”
Joanna saw he was taking in everything she was telling him, but had her words made him open his mind to the possibilities? She didn’t know. “You said Tash told you himself about his gift?”
Ethan took a sip of the delicious tea, looked into her beautiful blue eyes, Autumn’s eyes. He felt like he’d walked into one of his novels. She was sincere, she was serious, but... “He didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. I didn’t laugh at him, nothing like that, but naturally I didn’t believe him, couldn’t begin to believe something so outlandish. As I said, I thought he was either very imaginative or maybe Autumn had put him up to it. But he was dead serious.” He paused a moment, then told her about the accident Tash had seen happen before it happened, and his final moments with his mother. He felt his throat close when he said Celia’s name, dead of breast cancer two years ago, when Tash was only six.
“What could I say? His father, my brother, Archer, hadn’t told me anything about either incident. So could Tash simply have made up both? A little boy’s attempt to deal with his mother’s death? And only a spot of luck the car roared through the intersection at that particular moment? Look, the fact is he was left too much alone since his father remarried six months ago, and his stepmother doesn’t want a little kid underfoot.” He searched Joanna Merriweather’s face, saw understanding and compassion. He said slowly, “You think it’s all true, both you and Ethan.”
Joanna nodded. “Yes, for the simple reason we both lived through what happened with Blessed and saw what Autumn was able to do with her mind. As for Tash, if Autumn believes he’s gifted, I accept it. It was a wonderful thing he did for his mother, and yes, I believe without a doubt he connected with her before she died. He’s a valiant little boy.”
Rebel felt as if he’d wandered into an alternate universe. Autumn’s mother seemed a rational adult, and she was completely serious, convinced both children were psychic. He said slowly, “How can I believe all that? I may write about supernatural beings walking the earth, but it’s fiction, entertainment, and my readers know it isn’t real.
“You said Autumn inherited her gift from her father’s family, the Backmans. Do you think then Tash could have inherited his gift from someone in our line?”
