Siren's Surrender (32 page)

Patience,
he counseled himself.
Take it slow and ease in
.

“I know where she is, actually,” Jake said, wishing the damn dog would shut up. The barking was beginning to get on his nerves, big-time. “And she has daughters who have been looking for their aunt—and any possible children she might have had.”

Kendra Newsome turned, attempting to quiet her dog. “Peetems, hush. You’ll get us kicked out of here.” He was thankful that the canine minded his mistress. She turned back to the door. “Are you like that guy on television, who finds missing family members?”

Jake nodded. To back up his say-so, he presented a business card. Recoveries, Inc., had become Family Recovery. All it took was a quick trip to a do-it-yourself print shop. Thirty minutes later he had a small stack of cards in hand. The phone numbers were fakes, but he doubted she’d call them. It was so easy to fool someone.

Not that he intended to be deceptive. He’d honestly give her all the information she needed to locate Tessa and her sisters if that was what she wanted. In return he hoped he’d get the information he needed to locate the missing pieces of the puzzle.

“Exactly.”

The door closed. The chain latch slid off.

“Please come in,” she invited a moment later. “I’m dying to hear what you have to tell me.”

Jake smiled to himself. Yep. He’d hooked and reeled her in. People always trusted the guy on television. She’d tell him everything. No doubt about it now. The best way to get someone to trust you was to prove you had their best interests at heart.

He stepped into an apartment designed to maximize the wide-open living area. A gourmet kitchen with an open serving bar added an extra touch of luxury.

Kendra Newsome indicated a chair. “Please, have a seat Mr.—” She blanked on his name.

“D’Marquis,” Jake filled in politely.

“Is that French?”

“I’m Canadian actually,” he replied, giving her necessary but vague details. Along with his passport, he also had an enhanced Canadian driver’s license. The secure documents denoted both identity and Canadian citizenship and were acceptable documents for entry into the United States by land or sea.

She pinned his card onto a bulletin board covered with the usual notes and photos people collected. “Can I offer you something? Coffee? Tea?”

Jake smiled again. “Thank you. Coffee would be terrific.”

“Great. I can handle that.” Flicking a smile his way, Kendra Newsome headed toward her neat little kitchen, which sported a nice gourmet coffee machine.

Jake sat down. The dog, a medium-sized cross between a terrier and a poodle, hit his lap at top speed. Less than a minute later his clothes were coated with kinky hair. Tongue lolling and dripping saliva, the dog sat in a happy stupor.

Like all pet owners who were oblivious to their pet’s bad behavior, Kendra Newsome laughed it off. “You’ll have to excuse Peetems. He loves everyone.”

Jake gritted his teeth. “So I see.” He resisted the urge to push the dog away. If he had his druthers, the only thing it would get would be a swift boot to the ass. He tolerated it instead. Once he’d pumped the necessary information out of Kendra, he could go along his merry way.

“So how long have you been working in genealogy?” she inquired across the open countertop.

Jake had already mentally prepared his answers. The simpler he kept the facts, the better it would be. “I’ve worked in archaeology about sixteen years.” It was easy and convincing to say because it was true. “But recently I’ve turned my attention toward helping families locate lost members. You’re actually my first case.”

Toting two cups of perfectly brewed cappuccino, Kendra joined him in the living room. “I have to say I’m very excited to know I have cousins.” She handed over a cup. “I’ve always felt there were more of us out there.”

Glad to exchange the mutt for the coffee, Jake cut his gaze toward Kendra’s neck. The stone he expected to see hanging there was missing.

Instead of nurturing the symbiote inside her daughters, Gail Newsome had chosen not to tell them. Over time it had probably died, leaving them mere humans. That was a shame, too. Gail’s daughters probably had no idea of their true heritage.

Pity. He liked the Mer race.

Jake sipped his coffee. The brew had a slight mocha flavor and was delicious. “Do you have any idea why your mother might have cut ties with her family?” he asked.

Kendra sat down. Peetems jumped up beside his mistress, curling up on a couple of throw pillows. At least the mangy beast was somewhat well behaved. “Honestly, I’m not really sure,” she answered. “I think there was some sort of family quarrel, over property or money.”

“That’s a common reason for family rifts,” Jake opined as though he really knew what he was talking about. It sounded like something logical to say.

She seemed to agree. “Mom sometimes mentioned her mother had cheated her in favor of her sister. Beyond that, she wouldn’t say much more. As far as I know, they never spoke again after she left home. That was in Maine, I think, but I’m not clear on all the details. My mother was very secretive about her past.”

My goodness. The girl was going to be a fountain of information. The gods were truly smiling on him today.

“The records I uncovered indicated that your mother passed away in 2009. I couldn’t find a cause of death, however.”

Smile vanishing, Kendra Newsome stared into her cup. She shook her head. “It wasn’t pleasant,” she finally said, releasing a deep sigh. “In fact, all we’ve wanted to do is just forget.”

Jake immediately sensed her tension and knew he’d stumbled onto something important. He leaned forward in his chair. “I’m sorry to bring back bad memories. I’m also sorry to say her sister Jolesa is also deceased.” Give a piece of information to get a piece. It was a fair trade and one he didn’t mind talking about. It wasn’t like it was his own mother.

Kendra nodded. “I see.” A pause. “How did she pass away?”

Jake dug back through what he knew about Tessa’s past. “She and her husband—David, I believe his name was—were killed in a car accident about fifteen years ago.”

She gasped. “That’s terrible. Her children must have been quite young.”

Jake sipped more of his frothy cappuccino. “They were.”

Curious blue eyes met his. “How many cousins do I have?”

Jake parceled out the information. “Three. Tessa is the oldest. She’s thirty now. Then there’s Gwen. She’s about twenty-seven. The youngest is Addison. She’s just a couple of years older than you.”

Kendra put aside her forgotten beverage. “Wow. Just wow. It’s so great to know all this. It felt so strange to think Sandra and I were the only two left from Mom’s side of the family.”

Jake put on his coyote’s grin. The meeting was going so much better than he could ever have imagined. “Well, the good news is you’re not. You have three cousins who very much want to meet you—if you’re willing, of course.”

Kendra’s face lit up. “Of course I am! Sandra is, too. I want to know everything about Mom’s people.”

“The girls have wanted to know everything about their aunt, too,” he said, carefully maneuvering the conversation back toward the person he held the most interest in. “They will be disappointed—that they missed the chance to meet her.”

Kendra suddenly crumbled. Eyes going teary, she plucked at a nearby Kleenex box. “That was tough.” She dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes.

Peetems raised his head, looking at his mistress through quizzical eyes. Recognizing her distress, he moved closer, laying his head on her lap. The animal was clearly devoted.

Jake subtly probed. “I take it her death was unexpected.”

Kendra stroked the dog’s head with an absent hand. “Yeah, it was.” A pause, followed by a quick rush of words. “Mom chose to end her own life.”

Oh, dear. That was something he hadn’t expected. In all the death records he’d found, including the obituary, a cause of death wasn’t revealed. Now he knew why. Obits rarely mentioned suicide as a cause of death. “Was she ill?” he ventured, attempting to keep his voice neutral.

Kendra frowned deeply. Minutes ticked by before she finally answered. “I am sorry to say it, but my mother was schizophrenic. It was a struggle for her to control what she called ‘the beast inside.’” A single tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away. “I’m afraid it got the better of her.”

Despite his detachment from the matter, Jake felt his stomach roll over.
A Mer out of water,
he thought. Like her niece Gwen, he suspected Gail had also attempted to suppress her true nature. It must have been a battle she couldn’t win.

He gave her a few minutes to regain her composure. Mention of her mother obviously opened a deep psychological wound for Kendra. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Stifling her tears, Kendra pulled her shoulders back. “It was a relief, actually.”

“Oh? How so?”

A blush of embarrassment stained her cheeks. “Mother’s black spells would just put your nerves on end,” she explained. “Literally, she would drive you crazy with her imaginary world of queens and mermaids and all sorts of crazy nonsense about the sea.”

Putting on his best clinical face, Jake nodded. “I see.”

He shifted in his chair, leaning forward to encourage intimacy. “You mentioned earlier your mother might have felt cheated over some money or property.”

Kendra nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

He had to jump in with both feet and hope he hit solid ground. “There are some family heirlooms your mother inherited. Tessa has expressed an interest in regaining some of those pieces.”

Kendra’s hand drifted toward her dog. She gave the hound a reassuring scratch behind the ears. “Heirlooms?” she repeated. “Such as?”

She didn’t seem disturbed, so he pressed on. “Your grandmother split some pieces of the family jewelry between Jolesa and Gail,” he explained. “Your mother inherited the larger and most valuable piece.”

The girl blanked. Nothing computed in her mind. “She did?”

Jake held his breath. Here was the moment he’d anticipated for days. “Yes. It might have been a rather large piece, such as a scepter.”

She thought a moment. “No, I don’t think Mom ever had anything like a scepter. Isn’t that something like a king or queen would have?”

Hope dimmed.
Damn.
Disappointment balled in his chest, heavy and leaden. He imagined the unseen thing slipping through his fingers. Queen Magaera would not be pleased. “Something like it.” He kept his answer vague.

“She did have this really gaudy trident.” She rolled her eyes. “My God, it was the ugliest thing.”

Jake’s heart damn near stalled. “Trident?”

Kendra absently shredded the used Kleenex she held. “Yeah, my father donated it to the Mimosa Springs Museum of Art after Mom died.” Balling up the mess she’d made, she offered a smile. “Sandra’s boyfriend, Damien, is an artist and he created a life-sized bronze of Poseidon for the museum’s Mythical Forces display. Dad decided to let him have the piece to complete his sculpture.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It wasn’t like it was valuable or anything. Just a lot of junky fake stones. Ugly thing, really.”

Jake felt his blood pressure drop. His mind was working a mile a minute to process the information.

The scepter was on display. In a museum. For all the public to see.

Jake sucked in an excited breath.
Holy shit!
He’d just hit the mother lode.

Nevertheless he deliberately forced himself to keep a neutral expression. No reason to let the cat out of the proverbial bag. “Neither you or your sister wanted it?” he asked, keeping his voice bland.

Kendra pressed her lips together. “Frankly, no. The damn thing was part of Mom’s craziness and we didn’t want it around after she died.”

Jake lifted a brow. “Part of her craziness?”

Kendra Newsome let out a long-suffering sigh. Now that she’d started talking, she seemed eager to keep going. “She claimed the thing belonged to some mythical goddess who had given her people command over land and sea. It was sad, really. Her delusional state only got worse as the years passed.”

“Uh-huh.”

By this time Jake wasn’t listening. Her words had become little more than a drone in his ears. No, his mind was on the scepter, the valuable, coveted piece he’d traveled halfway around the world to lay his hands on.

There was only one problem.

How the hell were they supposed to lay hands on a scepter that was part of a public display?

 

 

The Mimosa Springs Museum was a place of pride and enjoyment for all citizens and visitors of the community. The goal of the museum was to create a stimulating environment reflecting the city’s diversity and character through pieces put together by local artists. Though not always consistent, many of the displays had an eccentric charm.

In typical Florida fashion, the museum had the look of an overdone mausoleum; the grounds were lush and perfectly kept and the inside, done in muted grays and whites, had a hushed atmosphere of cold reverence. The paintings and statuary on display ranged from the absurd to the avant-garde.

Jake had spent two days scoping out the museum and how best to breach its security system. He’d decided a full-on assault in broad daylight would be the most successful and striking way to make a statement. He didn’t anticipate any trouble for the simple plan he’d devised.

The museum’s staff was small. Attendants were on site to guide visitors through the displays or point the way toward the restrooms or gift shop. Aside from simple black velvet ropes strung around at random, there was no obstacle between the public and the pieces on display. A few security guards milled through the browsing people, looking thoroughly bored and totally uninterested in their staid surroundings.

It was into this quiet refuge from the blazing Florida sun that Queen Magaera and her attendants marched, clad in full battle regalia and weapons at the ready.