flowers and
water. They’d even packaged and sold some to friends. Their mom had
told them both she was just so proud.
Now Ann
announced, “You look amazing. Any calls? You had a soap audition
lined up, yes?”
“ That’s next
week. I’m not sure yet how to play the part.”
“ Any way the
director says.” With an arm hooked around her little sister’s
waist, Ann led the way inside the immaculate abode that Sammy
secretly referred to as The Palace.
Mirror
polished furniture, elegant swags, tasteful art—water colors in one
room, oils in another. Although losing that ruby ring so soon after
losing their mom had been a huge blow, the insurance money had made
a vast difference to both their lives. Ann had scored the funds to
start up her own business, a health-based cafe, which had evolved
and certainly grown over the years. Sammy had been able to attend
her college of choice. Immediately they’d moved to a better part of
town. Those days of constant struggle were behind them.
In the
sparkling, chef-equipped kitchen, Ann poured two tumblers of
ice-water. Sammy would have preferred a soda or beer. For a long
time, Ann had been healthy to the point of obsession. She’d been on
a glutton-free, fat-free, taste-free diet for years. Sammy wondered
if her sister’s fixation with physical and mental wellbeing was a
result of their mother’s illness. A fear of cancer.
“ How’s your
tattoo friend,” Ann asked, inspecting a hanging basket of ripe
pomegranates when they moved out onto the veranda.
“ Laycee’s
good.”
“ I’m so glad
she hasn’t talked you into getting one of those things.”
Sammy didn’t
bother to explain again. Laycee was proud of her profession—she
took it seriously. She did not, however, cajole, pester or push
people into getting inked.
Taking a seat
at the spotless outdoor setting, Sammy filled her lungs and got on
topic. “I need to speak with you, Ann. About the ring.”
Ann’s hand
slipped away from the hanging basket at the same time she eased out
a breath. “Oh, Sammy. You’re still not going on about that, are
you?”
“ I need to
know how that woman, Mrs. Garfield, came to own it. I’ve shown you
the blowups from the net. It’s identical.”
“ Nothing’s
original anymore.”
“ Mom thought
that ring was. I do, too.”
In her
designer linen pants and cream silk shirt, Ann took a seat and held
her sister’s hand. “I hate to see you wasting energy chasing
butterflies. It was all so long ago.”
Sammy squeezed
her sister’s hand. “Ann, I went to the police.”
Ann
recoiled.
Sammy got it.
Her sister didn’t want people knocking on her door, stirring up
memories. Anne was pissed that her sister could possibly put her in
this position after all these years.
Sammy
explained. “They said they’d look into it. Thing is…they
haven’t.”
Ann’s
manicured fingers scooped back a gleaming blond wave. “That’s that
then.”
“ Not quite.”
Sammy sat back. “I met someone.”
Ann’s flawless
face lit up. “Someone nice?”
“ Someone who
wants to help me track down the ring.”
“ I don’t
understand. A new boyfriend?”
“ A private
investigator. Ex, actually. But he must think there’s something
there or he wouldn’t waste his time asking questions.”
Ann’s mouth
tightened. “This man…is he taking your money in exchange for his
services?”
Sammy shut
her eyes. Oh, Christ. “It’s not like that.” Chase wasn’t a scam artist.
Ann’s voice
lowered. “You’re sleeping with him then.”
“ That has
nothing to do with it.”
“ Have you
considered that he might be humoring you—”
“ I’m sure he
isn’t.”
“— because I
don’t like to think of anyone taking advantage of my baby
sister.”
Sammy’s hand
bunched in her lap. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
Tipping
forward, Ann cupped her sister’s cheek. “Honey, you’ll always be my kid sister.
I’ll always want to look out for you.”
Sammy knew it.
But
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