Born of Illusion (34 page)

He gives my hand a squeeze as Jacques comes in, looking even more worried than before.

“The cabbie was at the garage. He said he dropped her off here shortly after picking her up.”

“She was here? Right out front?” I shut my eyes, dizzy with fear and anger.

“What should we do? Call the police?”

Jacques and Cole look my way, both bowing to my right to make the decision.

A knock on the door freezes us all. Again, Cole takes the initiative with Jacques on his heels.

“There’s no one there.” Cole’s voice is puzzled until Jacques reaches out and clutches his arm.

“
Regarde!
” He points to the floor. I rise up on my tiptoes in order to see but my view is blocked by two sets of shoulders. Suddenly Cole is gone, racing down the stairs. I hear the front door open and slam behind him. Before I can move, Jacques kneels and picks something up. Peering over his shoulder, I see him carefully holding an envelope between his thumb and forefinger.

He looks up at me, his face stricken. “It has your name on it,
chérie
.”

I swallow, staring at the heavy block letters. He hands the envelope to me just as the front door opens. I hear Cole coming up the stairs, breathing heavily. He shakes his head at Jacques. “They were long gone.”

We all stare at the envelope. “You should open it,” Cole suggests.

I slide my finger carefully under the flap and take out the folded paper inside. Both Jacques and Cole lean in to get a better look.

I have your mother. To ensure her safe return, I will need ten thousand dollars placed at a specific drop spot of my choice. Do not go to the police. I will leave further instructions soon. If you have trouble coming up with the money, use your connections.

My hands shake and Cole leads me into the sitting room. The blanket is still lying on the floor. On the side table is a deck of cards and an ashtray overflowing with cigarettes. Nothing has changed, and yet nothing will ever be the same. The trembling starts in my hands, and by the time I take a seat, it’s spread over my whole body.

Jacques stands in the doorway, still as stone, while Cole sits close to me, the note in his hands. Silence covers the room like a smothering blanket. I don’t even know how to begin dealing with this. Whenever my mother and I have faced adversity before, we faced it together. Now it’s just me.

“Use your connections? What does that mean?” Cole asks.

I startle as the words drop into the silence like pebbles in a pond. “What?”

He points a finger at the note. “It says use your connections to get the money. What connections?”

My breath leaves my body in a whoosh and I stare at him, my mouth dry. “My father. They’re talking about my father.”

“How common is that knowledge? I mean, how many people know about that relationship?”

I drag in a deep breath, trying to regulate my breathing before I pass out. “I’m not sure. I know Mother likes to tell select people to increase publicity, but I don’t know who. Do you?” I turn to Jacques.

He spreads his hands out in an apologetic manner. “I’m not sure who she told, but I know the rumors are going around certain circles.”

“Then that’s no help.” Cole looks disappointed and I reach out and squeeze his hand.

“What circles?” I want to know.

“The rich. Potential clients. Some of the mediums and mentalists have been whispering about it, but most of them think it’s a publicity ploy.”

“Which brings us back to Mrs. Lindsay, right?” Cole turns toward me. “Do we even know if that’s her real name?”

I shake my head, despair settling over me. “No, that’s a dead end. She was taken into custody after she attacked me at Lindy’s.”

Jacques raises an eyebrow and I fill him in.

“How do you know she was arrested?”

“Dr. Bennett told me.” Now they both look at me with questions in their eyes. “Dr. Bennett is a lecturer at Cynthia’s spiritualist church. He’s a specialist in psychical phenomena. We were meeting him when he showed up with Mrs. Lindsay.”

Cole turns toward me. “Wait. What was a lecturer doing with an insane medium?”

“He called her a colleague.” I shiver, remembering the tortured look on Mrs. Lindsay’s face. “She was as surprised to see me as I was her.”

“I think the first thing we should do is make sure that Mrs. Lindsay is still in custody somewhere,” Cole says. “If we just had some idea who had tried to abduct you . . .”

Jacques clears his throat. “Actually, your mother had me hire a private investigator to look into that.”

“My mother?”

He nods. “Of course, she was worried about you.”

I digest that. “What did you find out?”

“The detective and I were supposed to meet last week, but he had to go out of town suddenly. We were planning on meeting when he returned so he could give me an update.”

Bowing my head, I rub my hands over my face. I must look like death. My blood chills at the metaphor. I can’t just sit here. I have to do something.

“Can you meet with him?” I ask Jacques. “As soon as possible?”

“Of course.”

My mind blanks. What else can I do? Cole gently squeezes my hand.

“Have you considered simply going to the police? I know the note says not to, but I think we need some help here. I’m sure they’d be discreet.”

Jacques makes an angry noise deep in his throat and his black eyes snap. “
Non
! If the culprit is having Anna watched, they would be alerted instantly.”

“Maybe one of us could do it?” Cole counters.

“The person who did this obviously knows Anna. You think he wouldn’t recognize either one of us?”

“Then what would you have her do? Just sit here waiting for another note?”

They both look at me, and I want to hide under the sofa.

“We need to get the money together,” Jacques says quietly. “Most of my money is tied up in investments, but I could probably get together about five thousand.”

I stare up at him. I knew Jacques was rich, but not that rich. He sees my look and twitches a shoulder. “I invest. I have been very smart and very lucky.”

A lump rises in my throat and I want to hug him. How could I have been so wrong about him? And if I’ve been that mistaken about Jacques, what else have I been wrong about? I give a nod and a wobbly smile, hoping he can see my gratitude.

“I could probably get the rest of the money, but I would have to wire London for it. It would take time.”

I stare at Cole in shock. Is everyone around me rich? Then I remember what Cynthia said about him. That he had scads more money than Owen. Apparently, she’s right. “I have about fifty-eight dollars.” I begin to laugh and then it’s cut off by a sob. “What am I going to do?”

“Could you go to your father?” Cole asks.

“No!” Somehow that would be the ultimate betrayal, and I’ve already betrayed my mother enough. “I think I know where I can get the money,” I say slowly. I turn to Jacques. “Why don’t you go make arrangements to meet the private investigator and get what money you can. I’ll stay here and . . .” My voice falters and Cole cuts in.

“Wait for further contact from the kidnappers.”

I nod. “And get the rest of the money together.”

Jacques gives my shoulder a brief squeeze before leaving the apartment.

Cole reaches forward and takes my hand into his. My body leans toward him. It’s hard to believe it’s only been a month or so since I met him. So much has happened: meeting my father and taking control of my abilities. Now this, my mother kidnapped and taken God knows where. I meet his eyes, and they’re so full of warmth and caring that my breath catches.

“Do you have any idea who this could be?” Cole asks me gently.

Pain radiates through my head in waves as I try to sort it all out. “When the visions started I tried to figure it out. I was sure it was the Lindsays.” I start to giggle and then clap my hand over my mouth when it changes to a sob.

“The night you were followed, when I ran into you. Did you sense anything?”

I shake my head. “All I know is that I thought I recognized the voice of the woman in the van. But I can’t really be sure.”

Cole squeezes my hand. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll get you something to eat? There’s nothing you can do right now anyway.”

I’m suddenly conscious that I’m wearing the same clothes I slept in. “I will. I just have to make a phone call first.”

For a moment it looks as if he is going to ask me a question, but then he nods. “I’m going to go downstairs for a few minutes. Lock the door behind me.”

I follow him to the door and make sure it’s locked before picking up the telephone. I hate what I’m about to do. It feels so fishy in a
let’s-be-friends; can-I-borrow-five-thousand-dollars?
kind of way.

But what choice do I have?

A maid answers and tries to tell me it’s too early to disturb Miss Cynthia. “This is an emergency,” I tell her in my firmest voice. “If you don’t get her right away, she will be furious with you.”

There’s a long pause. “One moment, please.”

I smile. Chances are, the help knows
exactly
who Cynthia’s family is.

“This better be good,” Cynthia snaps, and my smile falters.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I’m in trouble. I need five thousand dollars as soon as possible.”

“Hold on.” I hear something cover the phone. “Gretchen, I need my coffee now!” she yells. “I’m back. I can’t do anything without coffee. When do you need it by?”

I almost sob with relief. It’ll serve Mother right if Cynthia’s money ends up saving her. That will teach her to judge a book by its cover. “I’m not sure. Soon, I think.”

“It’ll take me a couple hours to get it together. Jack’s off hunting, can you believe that? With foxes and hounds and everything. He and all his friends think they’re English now.” She snorts and then gets back on track. “I don’t know how much I have in my personal account, but don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

I clutch the phone, gratitude closing my throat.

“Can you tell me about it?” Her voice is soft and worried.

I shake my head before realizing she can’t see me. “Not really.”

“All right. Hold on. I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Thank you,” I whisper into the phone before replacing the receiver.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to clear my mind before heading to the bathroom to wash and change. The everyday ritual brings a bit of normalcy into my surreal morning and calms my screaming nerves. But nothing can stop the thoughts from spinning round and round in my head. What if my vision is coming true right now? What if my mother is sitting in that room at this very moment, waiting for someone to save her? Could I have stopped it? If I hadn’t acted like such a spoiled child, she would have come home with me and been safe right now. Or would it have happened anyway? My mind keeps asking questions there are no answers for.

I finish cleaning up and find Cole in the kitchen, pouring yet another cup of coffee.

“I ran downstairs while you were in the bathroom. Your biggest fan sends his love and some breakfast.” He waves his hand toward the table where two thick pieces of toast sit.

My eyes widen. “He fixed the toaster!”

Cole smiles. “No, he sent away for one.”

I actually laugh at that and sit at the table, though I know I won’t be able to eat anything.

Cole watches until I pick up the toast and take a bite. My stomach churns, but I bravely wash it down with a sip of coffee and give Cole a weak smile. He sits across from me and I’m struck by a thought.

“Last night you said you had something to tell me. What was it?”

Cole frowns. “It was about the letter. But I’m not sure if now is a good time. . . .”

“No, go ahead,” I tell him, though part of me never wants to hear about the letter again. “I need something else to hear about or I’ll go crazy.”

“First I just want to say how sorry I am that I was so secretive. The Society demands it to protect the Sensitives. They take secrecy very seriously. But I should have trusted you.”

He looks at me and I nod. Just like I should have trusted him.

He continues. “One of our researchers broke away from the Society. He was one of the ones who fought against teaching Sensitives how to control their powers, saying that it would skew the results of the tests. He didn’t care if they went mad as long as they performed like he wanted. He tried to recruit me and he didn’t take the rejection well. Part of the reason I came to the States was because my friends wanted me safely out of the way. He’d gone on an extended vacation and no one in our network could find anything about his whereabouts. Until the letter.”

A thought comes to me. “In the letter it says you thrashed him. Is that what you mean when you said he didn’t take the rejection well?”