The Complete Colony Series. Lisa Jackson
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meant it when she’d told him back. And so he hadn’t said it again. He’d shown her in a lot of other ways. And if they could ever learn what really happened to Jessie, she felt the last issues between them would be resolved.
Picking up her mail from the box, a fistful of bills, credit card offers, and advertisements, Becca waited for Ringo to do his business, then headed inside. Not for the first time, she wondered why her visions of Jessie were backdropped by the ocean—a stormy, raging sea where she could hear the roar of the surf, feel the tide pound the shore, taste the brine on her tongue.
The answer was somewhere in the cliffs overlooking the angry ocean, and Jessie was adamant that she tell no one about it. In her recent visions, Jessie had been warning her, shushing her. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone of her visions, that much was clear. But she’d already confided in Hudson.
That had probably been a mistake. Not only might he think her a nutcase, but she might have inadvertently put his life in danger. There was a chance that Jessie was warning her to be quiet for Hudson’s safety.
Or her child’s.
Either way, she felt, the answers to everything wouldn’t be found in the soil, debris, or bones at St. Elizabeth’s maze. The answers would be found somewhere on the Oregon coast, most likely in the town of Deception Bay.
Becca stood for a moment in the fading light, struck by the thought. What had taken her so long to recognize that? That’s where Renee’s research on Jessie had taken place. That’s where the answers were.
Becca hurried Ringo along, back to the condo. Now that she’d made that decision, she wanted to go. It was early evening and it was a two-hour drive. She could be there by seven, or maybe eight, if it took her a while to pack.
“Ready for a ride?” she said to Ringo, who dogged her anxiously, sensing her new determination. She pulled her cell phone out of its charger and put a call in to Hudson.
As she waited for him to answer, she packed a few things into an overnight bag, then once her call was forwarded to his voicemail, left a quick message that she was heading out of town for the beach.
He called her back almost instantly. “I’m right on the way. Pick me up. I can be ready in twenty minutes.”
“You want to go?”
“I want answers, too, Becca. And you’re right, Renee was researching Jessie, following in her footsteps. Something happened, and I want to know what it was.”
“Well, okay,” she said. “I’m putting Ringo in the car and I’ll be at your place in about half an hour depending on traffic.”
“Lookin’ forward to it.”
I love you, she thought, but she didn’t say it.
“I’m a coward,” she told the dog as she settled him into his fuzzy car seat.
He looked at her and wagged his tail.
By the time Becca’s car slid into his driveway, Hudson had cared for the horses and few head of cattle, called Emile Rodriguez to come by and feed and water the stock the following day, made arrangements for a place to stay at the beach online, showered and changed. He was just stuffing a change of clothes into an overnight bag when he spied her headlights against the trunks of the oak and fir trees near the mailbox.
He hurried downstairs and locked the door behind him just as she pulled to a stop near the front porch. Ringo, true to form, was barking his fool head off and wasn’t all that happy to be relegated to the backseat as Hudson slid into the passenger seat.
“Sorry, bud,” he said as the dog gave one final bark and settled into a tiny bed Becca had brought for him.
Becca was on the phone and held up a finger when he settled into the seat. “Yeah…sure…I’ll call you if and when I know anything else, but you’re right. It’s a shock.” She looked at Hudson and mouthed, “Tamara.” Hudson nodded. He’d already been fielding calls from The Third and Jarrett about Scott. No one would have pegged him for a murderer. Everyone was shocked. Jarrett wanted to believe that Scott had killed Jessie and Renee as well. Christopher Delacroix III didn’t think so. Otherwise the cops would have booked him for all the murders already.
“It’s a pisser,” The Third had said when he’d called earlier. “A real pisser. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How well you really know someone.”
“You can never know everything,” Hudson told him. “You get the public side, not the private.”
“Do you think we’re safe now?” The Third had asked him.
“Safe?”
“From whoever did this. If Scott really didn’t kill your sister and Jessie, then who did? We’re running out of friends. Either way, I’ve got a .357 magnum by my bed. No mother-fucker’s going to mess with me and not know it. I’ll blow his fuckin’ head off. Got another call coming in. Gotta run.”
“Sure, I’ll call,” Becca was winding up her call. She fingered the ignition with her free hand, then cast a glance at Hudson. “Yeah, I know…Weird. When I get back into town, we’ll get together. Bye.” Becca disconnected and slid a glance at Hudson. “Tamara’s having a tough time with this.”
Hudson suddenly leaned over and kissed her, hard, on the lips and smiled at the scent and taste of her. God, he wanted to drag her out of the car this very second and take her upstairs. To lose himself in her for hours. To forget the hell they’d all lived with for the past couple of months. But like Becca, he wanted closure.
Becca wheeled the car around and drove down the lane. At the county road, she turned west toward the foothills of the Coast Range while Hudson fiddled with the radio and found a country station that he knew came in clear through most of the mountain range. A slice of moon was quickly being covered by clouds, only a few stars visible as the night thickened. Hudson leaned back in his seat. “I called the owner of the cabin where Renee usually stayed. It’s owned by a friend of the family. The police are done with it and he said we could spend the night if we wanted. I said thanks, but no thanks.”
Becca shivered.
He drew a long breath. “I made a reservation online for Cliffside, a B&B in Deception Bay. Great view of the ocean and dog-friendly. But I think we should go to Renee’s cabin and look around.”
“Oh, definitely.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror, frowned, then stepped on the accelerator as the road widened to four lanes for a while and she was able to pass a white panel truck that was slowing with the incline.
A few minutes later, she looked in her rearview again, and Hudson twisted in his seat, peering through the foggy back window.
“Something back there?” he asked.
“No.”
“Renee thought she was being followed,” Hudson reminded her.
“And she didn’t even have visions,” Becca murmured.
Hudson gave her a long look. “What did you see? In your last one?”
“I haven’t wanted to talk about it.”
“That, I know.”
Becca wanted to just forget, and he’d let her for a while. She didn’t want to think about what she’d seen—some hooded being with evil intent. She wasn’t convinced it was even real. But they were on the same path Jessie had taken, and Jessie was the reason she’d had the vision. And she was worried about what it meant for herself, for Hudson, and now for their unborn baby.
“I think the visions mean something,” she said. “They may have a physical cause that no one’s found,” she granted, shooting him a look, “but I believe they are some form of communication, even if it’s only with my own subconscious.”
“You saw Glenn’s burning note,” Hudson allowed.
“That’s