Page 28 of Perfect Order
I don’t even bother to deny it. “Yes.” Quickly, I explain the bare bones of the automated script I have running under Erzulie’s name.
There’s a moment of silence before, “Then you’d better brace.”
“Why?” I ask sinisterly.
“StellaNova has a picture of Kylie Miles—not Erzulie—lying on Ky’s gravesite the other night.” Her words tear through any modicum of disinterest I might have had in the conversation.
“Are you kidding me?” I shout.
“Unfortunately not. I always wondered how Erzulie avoided anything but positive press. The Neo Agency wasn’t well-known for…”
“Not exploiting their acts? I’m familiar.”
Carys puts two and two together quickly and whistles. “You’re the reason your sister got out of her contract without any blowback.”
“Oh, it was a pleasure to dig up the info on that piece of shit Hutnik. And if I find out he had anything to do with siccing the tabloids…” I choke back my words when my father steps into the kitchen. He appears to have aged twenty years in the last few days. “Daddy? I’m sorry for yelling.”
“Is everything all right?” His voice is anxious.
“It’s just…” I try to come up with an explanation, but my brain’s too muddled to think. I give him the truth, apology in my voice. “Someone got a picture of me at Kylie’s grave.”
He pales. “Now they’re going to stalk you. Please promise me you’re going to be more careful, baby.”
“Daddy, I prom—”
He shakes me. “No, I think your sister was killed because of some crazy, Leanne. You have to be careful now. You’re all we have left.”
Forgetting I’ve left the phone unmuted, I hug my father. “I love you, Daddy. And yes, I promise I’ll be careful.” He relaxes momentarily until I continue. “But you know I can’t let this go. I have to figure out what happened to my Lee.”
His arms around me tighten. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t let them get to you.”
“I can’t let them…”
“Youcan. It’s not your responsibility. She’s not your responsibility!” he shouts.
“You heard Mom. She is! She always was! She’s a part of me! How can I go on if I don’tknow?” I yell right back.
He steps away, and I feel cold. Wrapping my arms around myself, I enter a staredown with my father. Finally, he sighs. “Just…don’t make us lose you too.” Then he turns and walks away, leaving me feeling anchorless.
For a few moments, I stand there immobile until a voice calling my name through the phone begins to penetrate. Shit, Carys. I answer dully, “Yeah?”
“Are you sure you want to pursue this? It’s not too late for us to just go to the police,” Carys probes gently.
“And do what, Carys? Wonder for the rest of my life when they blow off my suspicions? Make a token effort for the sake of saying they did because of who Kylie was? Who I am? No, I need to know. There is no halfway.” She doesn’t answer, which I take as answer enough. “I’m going to pack and head back to the city. It can’t be easy for my parents to see me.”
“Leanne, you’re probably the only reason they’re able to get through each day. When my parents died, that was my brother for me. Don’t rush away because emotions are high. Now is the time when you need one another,” Carys informs me quietly.
I explore my careening emotions for a few moments before nodding. “Then at the very least, I need to get out of the house. I’m suffocating.”
“Go for a walk, a drive. Get coffee, chocolate. Do something for you.”
My heart breaking, I inform this kind woman who cared for my sister, “If I could do anything, I’d be in the lab at my office creating a time machine to bring Kylie back to us all.” Then I disconnect the call.
But I take her suggestion and hunt down my father’s car keys.
An hour later, driving up a twisting two-lane road near a local ski resort with coffee in one cup holder and a bag of chocolate on the seat next to me, I finally feel some of the suffocating pressure leave my chest. Despite spotting members of the paparazzi lingering around the streets of Silverthorn, I managed to dash into the local coffeehouse and escape unscathed. I ask my sister aloud, “Lee, how did you manage to deal with this?” Just a few days of the constant dodging of the media has me ready to scream.
Of course there’s no answer, but it helps me to talk aloud to her. Even as I turn the wheel to navigate around another curve to climb to the top of the mountain, I whisper fiercely, “This is completely unforgivable, Lee. You’re supposed to be here. We had too many memories we were supposed to make together. We were supposed to fall in love, be each other’s maid of honor, be our children’s godmothers. How am I supposed to get through a day without hearing your voice, let alone moments like that? Someone stripped us from having a future of loving each other.” My voice cracks as I veer to the right.
