Message to VS—
Beijing canceled.
Friend is dead.
Reply from VS—
I sent flowers.
Message to VS—
Does this not mean anything to you?
Reply from VS—
More than you know.
Ace of Swords
On the drive to New Haven, Semele tried calling her mother’s cell and the home line countless times. With every minute that passed, her panic intensified.
When they arrived, they found her front door unlocked and the lights on. Unfamiliar music was playing on the stereo. Helen’s purse sat on the kitchen counter next to her keys, and her Audi was still parked in the driveway.
“Mom?” Semele cried out when she saw the dining chair on its side.
The signs of a struggle echoed through the room.
A coffee cup lay shattered on the floor, and a bowl of cereal was overturned on the table.
“Mom!” She sank to her knees.
Theo put his arms around her. “We’re going to find her. Semele, listen to me. We’re going to find her.”
For minutes she cried gut-wrenching sobs, unable to calm down. She had reached her breaking point.
“We’re going to find her.” Theo kept saying the words until they registered. Slowly, she calmed and attempted several deep breaths. “That’s it,” he encouraged.
The house phone rang.
“It’s him.” She sprang for the phone. “There’s another in my father’s study. Hurry!”
Theo raced to the other room.
Semele snatched up the receiver and yelled, “Where is she?”
“Good.” The man chuckled. “Good! You are awake now. I can hear your passion.” He took a labored breath. “It’s amazing what losing your friend has done for you so quickly. You knew right away to run home to Mommy. Bravo,” he taunted her. “But isn’t this what you wanted after you found out the truth about your birth? To give Mommy away, so that she’d know what it was like?”
“No.” Semele’s voice trembled.
“Intuition can be triggered by many kinds of crises, Semele. My father, in his extensive studies, found a threat to a loved one most effective. But such parameters are hard to duplicate in a laboratory. So I’ve got you out in the real world, where I can conduct this experiment with high confidence. And the messiness of life can do wonders. Like your father, his death was the tragedy that started you on this yellow brick road. How I’ve enjoyed watching.”
Semele slid to the floor.
“I saw her that night at the gala—your mother. We met at the bar. Such a lovely woman, Helen. I got her and Joseph drinks. She was so talkative, never suspecting what I had done.”
Semele covered her mouth to keep from crying as she listened to his confession. He went on.
“But she couldn’t have saved him that night, dear girl. Yet you still blame her. I think it’s because, deep down, you blame yourself for not foreseeing his death. Time to own up to the truth, because there’s no hiding it from me.”
