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Authors: Nora Roberts
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misplaced the bill. I guess I just started taking care of her.”
“You’d have been awfully young for that.”
“I didn’t mind.” This time the smile bloomed fully. There were, as with her mother, the faintest of dimples in her cheeks. “I was so much better at managing than she. We had a little more coming in once she started reading palms and doing charts. She really just sort of blossomed then. She has a need to help people, to give them—I don’t know—reassurance. Hope. Still, it was an odd time. We lived in a nice neighborhood and people would come and go through our living room. The neighbors were fascinated, and some of them came in regularly for readings, but outside the house there was a kind of distance. It was as if they weren’t quite sure of Clarissa.”
“It would have been uncomfortable for you.”
“Now and then. She was doing what she had to do. Some people shied away from us, from the house, but she never seemed to notice. Anyway, the word spread and she became friends with the Van Camps. I guess I was around twelve orthirteen. The first time movie stars showed up at the house I was awestruck. Within a year it became a matter of course. I’ve known actors to call her before they’d accept a role. She’d always tell them the same thing. They had to rely on their own feelings. The one thing Clarissa will never do is make decisions for anyone else. But they still called. Then the little Van Camp boy was kidnapped. After that the press camped on the lawn, the phone never stopped. I ended up moving her out to Newport Beach. She can keep a low profile there, even when another case comes up.”
“There was the Ridehour murders.”
She stood up abruptly and walked closer to the sea. Rising, David walked with her. “You’ve no idea how she suffered through that.” Emotions trembled in her voice as she wrapped her arms around herself. “You can’t imagine what a toll something like that can take on a person like Clarissa. I wanted to stop her, but I knew I couldn’t.”
When she closed her eyes, David put a hand on her shoulder. “Why would you want to stop her if she could help?”
“She grieved. She hurt. God, she all but lived it, even before she was called in.” She opened her eyes and turned to him then. “Do you understand, even before she was called in, she was involved?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“No, you can’t.” She gave an impatient shake of her head for expecting it. “I suppose you have to live it. In any case, they asked for help. It doesn’t take any more than that with Clarissa. Five young girls dead.” She closed her eyes again. “She never speaks of it, but I know she saw each one. I know.” Then she pushed the thought aside, as she knew she had to. “Clarissa thinks of her abilities as a gift…but you’ve no idea what a curse that can be.”
“You’d like her to stop. Shut down. Is that possible?” A.J. laughed again and drew both hands through hair the wind had tossed. “Oh, yes, but not for Clarissa. I’ve accepted that she needs to give. I just make damn sure the wrong person doesn’t take.”
“And what about you?” He would have sworn something in her froze at the casual question. “Did you become an agent to protect your mother?”
She relaxed again. “Partly. But I enjoy what I do.” Her eyes were clear again. “I’m good at it.”
“And what about Aurora?” He brought his hands up her arms to her shoulders.
A yearning rose up in her, just from the touch. She blocked it off. “Aurora’s only there for Clarissa.”
“Why?”
“Because I know how to protect myself as well as my mother.”
“From what?”
“It’s getting late, David.”
“Yeah.” One hand skimmed over to her throat. Her skin was soft there, sun kissed and soft. “I’m beginning to think the same thing. I never did finish kissing you, Aurora.”
His hands were strong. She’d noticed it before, but it seemed to matter more now. “It’s
“You’d have been awfully young for that.”
“I didn’t mind.” This time the smile bloomed fully. There were, as with her mother, the faintest of dimples in her cheeks. “I was so much better at managing than she. We had a little more coming in once she started reading palms and doing charts. She really just sort of blossomed then. She has a need to help people, to give them—I don’t know—reassurance. Hope. Still, it was an odd time. We lived in a nice neighborhood and people would come and go through our living room. The neighbors were fascinated, and some of them came in regularly for readings, but outside the house there was a kind of distance. It was as if they weren’t quite sure of Clarissa.”
“It would have been uncomfortable for you.”
“Now and then. She was doing what she had to do. Some people shied away from us, from the house, but she never seemed to notice. Anyway, the word spread and she became friends with the Van Camps. I guess I was around twelve orthirteen. The first time movie stars showed up at the house I was awestruck. Within a year it became a matter of course. I’ve known actors to call her before they’d accept a role. She’d always tell them the same thing. They had to rely on their own feelings. The one thing Clarissa will never do is make decisions for anyone else. But they still called. Then the little Van Camp boy was kidnapped. After that the press camped on the lawn, the phone never stopped. I ended up moving her out to Newport Beach. She can keep a low profile there, even when another case comes up.”
“There was the Ridehour murders.”
She stood up abruptly and walked closer to the sea. Rising, David walked with her. “You’ve no idea how she suffered through that.” Emotions trembled in her voice as she wrapped her arms around herself. “You can’t imagine what a toll something like that can take on a person like Clarissa. I wanted to stop her, but I knew I couldn’t.”
When she closed her eyes, David put a hand on her shoulder. “Why would you want to stop her if she could help?”
“She grieved. She hurt. God, she all but lived it, even before she was called in.” She opened her eyes and turned to him then. “Do you understand, even before she was called in, she was involved?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“No, you can’t.” She gave an impatient shake of her head for expecting it. “I suppose you have to live it. In any case, they asked for help. It doesn’t take any more than that with Clarissa. Five young girls dead.” She closed her eyes again. “She never speaks of it, but I know she saw each one. I know.” Then she pushed the thought aside, as she knew she had to. “Clarissa thinks of her abilities as a gift…but you’ve no idea what a curse that can be.”
“You’d like her to stop. Shut down. Is that possible?” A.J. laughed again and drew both hands through hair the wind had tossed. “Oh, yes, but not for Clarissa. I’ve accepted that she needs to give. I just make damn sure the wrong person doesn’t take.”
“And what about you?” He would have sworn something in her froze at the casual question. “Did you become an agent to protect your mother?”
She relaxed again. “Partly. But I enjoy what I do.” Her eyes were clear again. “I’m good at it.”
“And what about Aurora?” He brought his hands up her arms to her shoulders.
A yearning rose up in her, just from the touch. She blocked it off. “Aurora’s only there for Clarissa.”
“Why?”
“Because I know how to protect myself as well as my mother.”
“From what?”
“It’s getting late, David.”
“Yeah.” One hand skimmed over to her throat. Her skin was soft there, sun kissed and soft. “I’m beginning to think the same thing. I never did finish kissing you, Aurora.”
His hands were strong. She’d noticed it before, but it seemed to matter more now. “It’s
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