Echoes of Angels

"Does he have the negatives?"

DiMarco nodded. "Yes." His inquiring gaze swept her face. "You remember him?"

Julienne fought to retain her composure. She clasped her hands together, until her knuckles became white from the pressure. "Remember him?" She frowned. "Not really. But mother mentioned him, often."

"What did she say?"

Julienne offered a wry smile. "She despised him." Her forehead wrinkled in thought. She was digging into pockets of memory that she'd almost forgotten existed.

"Did she ever say why?"

Julienne lowered her head to rest on her clasped hands. She stared at the blank tabletop through the gap of her arms. She felt as if someone had led her to the top of a cliff and then, without warning, pushed her off. Somehow she'd managed to catch the edge, but she was still left to dangle helplessly high above the ground. She drew in a deep, fortifying breath. Cassandra had railed against the many lovers she'd taken, whether for money or pleasure, but there was one man above all the bastards that she hated to the depth of her soul... Morgan Saint-Evanston.

"Mom just said he destroyed her whole life, and grandmother helped him do it." Julienne raised her head, peering over her hands. A tic of frustration tugged at the corner of her mouth. She was trying to be strong, trying to conceal the grief of the little girl still living behind her eyes. "My mother was very good at keeping her secrets. I never really got the details, you know, but I felt that he hurt her very badly."

"You have her side," DiMarco commented. "What about theirs?"

"Considering how my mother felt about her family, why should I offer benefit of doubt?" Suddenly, her throat felt blocked by the intense pounding of her heart. It was difficult, having the perspective of a grown woman and the agonies of a child conflict within one's mind. She hadn't been prepared to have all her yesterdays surge forth and unfurl unpleasant events she'd fought to forget.

DiMarco rubbed his chin, considering what he should or should not say.

"Because it's the only fair thing to do," he reasoned. "There are two sides to every story. You have half from your mother. Now you have the chance to get the other side. You might be surprised what you learn from talking to them."

"I see." Julienne nodded, mulling over his words. He was, of course, absolutely correct. There had always been one particular question she'd never gotten an answer to. Today's events begged examination, for they cast light on a murky area in Cassandra's past: who was Julienne's father? Was it the man Cassandra hated?

If it's true it's him, she fretted, her mind considering the questions, how do I confront this?

"Can I find out more about these people?" she blurted. "You know, without them knowing I'm poking around?"

DiMarco finished his water and carefully replaced the cap on the empty bottle.

"You want to run a goddamn background check? Hire a private investigator, for Chrissakes." He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was tired and sorely wanted to go home, not trapped handholding a neurotic client. "Better yet, if you want to know what they're like, go see for yourself."

"You don't understand," she argued. "I wasn't ready to deal with this!" It was necessary that she keep her voice in check, her emotions neutral, otherwise she would lose control and utterly collapse.

DiMarco absently readjusted his glasses. It was clear he was ready to move on with his day. "I don't know the whole story-only those involved do, but give them benefit of the doubt. Maybe Cassandra left for all the wrong reasons."

Julienne felt apprehension surge through her veins like chips of cold steel. This could be the piece of the puzzle missing from my entire life. Is it time to put it into place?

"It's too late to confront my mother," she said slowly, "but I could, maybe, talk to grandmother-and Saint-Evanston. He has yet to answer for his involvement in Cassie's life." She shook her head in regret. "I thought these things would leave me alone after she died. I see now the bodies don't stay buried, do they?"

"It's time to stop running." DiMarco advised. "Go home and ask some questions about your mother. Whether or not you like the answers, I think it's time you paused to examine your life. You want to kill yourself? Get a gun. Otherwise, show some sense and take the olive branch they've held out. You've been offered a sanctuary. In this world, that means a lot."

"And if I don't want to stay there, I can just walk away, right?" she asked.

"If you don't like them after you get there, then leave," DiMarco replied. "At least you'd have made the effort. Then, the dead can rest in peace."

Julienne nibbled her lip in indecision, torn between fear of the unknowns in her past and the uncertainty of her future. What did she have to lose by going to Virginia? "I suppose I should at least acknowledge their generosity."