her mother’s image faded to black, the first haunting strains of Nina Simone’s “Wild Is the Wind” drifted through the room.
CHAPTER2
S leep eluded Tabitha. She thrashed in her Laura Ashley sheets for nearly three hours, hoping her parents would get a good laugh out of all her wasted angst when they returned from the Caribbean. She tried to occupy her mind by sorting through her mother’s babblings about warlocks and magical talismans. Three words kept emerging from the incoherent tangle.
Control. Restraint. Focus
. Irresistible concepts to a woman who’d spent her entire life feeling like the butt of some dismal cosmic joke.
The digital clock on her bedside table read 3:02 when she finally groaned her defeat and tossed back the covers. The kitten draped over her feet mewed in protest.
“Don’t worry, Lucy,” Tabitha whispered as she reached for her glasses. “It’s past the witching hour.” Fatigue was definitely making her punchy.
She donned her slippers and shuffled into the bathroom, starting when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. With her tousled hair and cold-cream mask, she looked like a wild-eyed mime. She rinsed her face, then surveyed the elegant bathroom, trying to see it through her mother’s eyes. Arian had protested vehementlywhen Tabitha had suggested redecorating it. Maybe she’d had another motivation besides sentimentality—considering the object she claimed to have hidden there over twenty-four years ago?
Feeling more than a little ridiculous, Tabitha got down on her hands and knees to peer under the towel warmer. Nothing. Feeling even sillier, she lifted the porcelain lid and peeked into the commode tank. It would be just her luck to find a family heirloom in the toilet, she thought ruefully. More nothing.
As Tabitha studied the room, a wistful pang reminded her why she’d been so desperate to redecorate. The penthouse bathroom with its sunken whirlpool tub and array of plush towels had been designed with sensual pleasure in mind. Its twin pedestal sinks were nothing but a cruel reminder of all the small but significant intimacies she could never allow anyone to share. And she certainly had no need for twin showerheads, especially when one of them was perpetually clogged.
Tabitha stiffened. Acting on a hunch, she swept open the door of the frosted-glass enclosure and unscrewed the offending showerhead. She gasped in astonishment as a length of chain unfurled into her waiting hand.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she whispered.
She cupped the tarnished treasure in her palm. Although moisture had corroded the delicate chain, the emerald nestled in the antique setting showed remarkably little sign of wear. Tabitha recoiled. Was it her imagination or had the brilliant gem winked at her?
“You don’t have any imagination,” she reminded herself sternly, although the day she was having was enough to make her see pink elephants.
Thinking it might make her feel better to wear something of her mother’s next to her heart, she started to slip the necklace over her head. A tingle of apprehensionmade her hesitate. Hadn’t Arian called the necklace an amulet, a talisman, a magical charm?
Should she wish? Tabitha wondered. And if so, what should she wish for? Freedom from the temptation to wish? A shrill giggle escaped her, warning her that she was dangerously near exhaustion.
Determined to start behaving like a sane scientist instead of a mad one, Tabitha marched into the living room and voice-activated her computer and mini-monitor. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, she wouldn’t have to wait until tomorrow to prove the emerald was nothing more than a pretty rock. Her modem connected her to the Lennox Enterprises laboratory computer network with a chirp of agreement.
She arranged the necklace on an analysis pad. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, commanding the sophisticated software to analyze the structural composition of the emerald. Lucy hopped up on
CHAPTER2
S leep eluded Tabitha. She thrashed in her Laura Ashley sheets for nearly three hours, hoping her parents would get a good laugh out of all her wasted angst when they returned from the Caribbean. She tried to occupy her mind by sorting through her mother’s babblings about warlocks and magical talismans. Three words kept emerging from the incoherent tangle.
Control. Restraint. Focus
. Irresistible concepts to a woman who’d spent her entire life feeling like the butt of some dismal cosmic joke.
The digital clock on her bedside table read 3:02 when she finally groaned her defeat and tossed back the covers. The kitten draped over her feet mewed in protest.
“Don’t worry, Lucy,” Tabitha whispered as she reached for her glasses. “It’s past the witching hour.” Fatigue was definitely making her punchy.
She donned her slippers and shuffled into the bathroom, starting when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. With her tousled hair and cold-cream mask, she looked like a wild-eyed mime. She rinsed her face, then surveyed the elegant bathroom, trying to see it through her mother’s eyes. Arian had protested vehementlywhen Tabitha had suggested redecorating it. Maybe she’d had another motivation besides sentimentality—considering the object she claimed to have hidden there over twenty-four years ago?
Feeling more than a little ridiculous, Tabitha got down on her hands and knees to peer under the towel warmer. Nothing. Feeling even sillier, she lifted the porcelain lid and peeked into the commode tank. It would be just her luck to find a family heirloom in the toilet, she thought ruefully. More nothing.
As Tabitha studied the room, a wistful pang reminded her why she’d been so desperate to redecorate. The penthouse bathroom with its sunken whirlpool tub and array of plush towels had been designed with sensual pleasure in mind. Its twin pedestal sinks were nothing but a cruel reminder of all the small but significant intimacies she could never allow anyone to share. And she certainly had no need for twin showerheads, especially when one of them was perpetually clogged.
Tabitha stiffened. Acting on a hunch, she swept open the door of the frosted-glass enclosure and unscrewed the offending showerhead. She gasped in astonishment as a length of chain unfurled into her waiting hand.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she whispered.
She cupped the tarnished treasure in her palm. Although moisture had corroded the delicate chain, the emerald nestled in the antique setting showed remarkably little sign of wear. Tabitha recoiled. Was it her imagination or had the brilliant gem winked at her?
“You don’t have any imagination,” she reminded herself sternly, although the day she was having was enough to make her see pink elephants.
Thinking it might make her feel better to wear something of her mother’s next to her heart, she started to slip the necklace over her head. A tingle of apprehensionmade her hesitate. Hadn’t Arian called the necklace an amulet, a talisman, a magical charm?
Should she wish? Tabitha wondered. And if so, what should she wish for? Freedom from the temptation to wish? A shrill giggle escaped her, warning her that she was dangerously near exhaustion.
Determined to start behaving like a sane scientist instead of a mad one, Tabitha marched into the living room and voice-activated her computer and mini-monitor. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, she wouldn’t have to wait until tomorrow to prove the emerald was nothing more than a pretty rock. Her modem connected her to the Lennox Enterprises laboratory computer network with a chirp of agreement.
She arranged the necklace on an analysis pad. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, commanding the sophisticated software to analyze the structural composition of the emerald. Lucy hopped up on
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