Her hand was on his forearm and the bracelet winked and glittered. “Oh, Dix, I’m so sorry. I had no idea at all. Well, that’s a coincidence, isn’t it? Maybe Christie and I are more alike than just our looks. What do you think?”
He said honestly, looking at her again, “I don’t know you, Charlotte. I have no idea how alike you and Christie are.”
“Dix? Are you okay now? Look, do you want to examine the bracelet?”
It was exactly what he wanted. He had to be careful not to grab it from her. “Yes, please, that would be very kind of you.”
He watched her gracefully unfasten the bracelet, watched the glittering pile of diamonds slide through her fingers as she dropped it into his hand.
He knew exactly where to look. He was so afraid of what he’d find his hands were shaking.
He slowly turned the bracelet until he was looking at the underside of the clasp. He knew what should be there: At Least Forever. And right below that Pietro Magni’s individualized mark, a “p” intertwined with an “m.”
He held the bracelet up, examined it closely.
The underside of the clasp was blank. He could see no sign that anything had been scored off. So close, it was so close, so much like Christie’s bracelet it made him want to scream because what he’d believed a precious instant ago simply wasn’t true. Another chimera, a gossamer veil that hid nothing at all.
In the end this woman wasn’t Christie and this diamond bracelet wasn’t Christie’s either. He hated coincidence, really didn’t much believe in it, and now he’d slammed into two that had nearly torn his heart out.
He handed her the bracelet, and she fastened it on her wrist with the ease of long practice.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte, it is very similar, but I see now that it’s different. Please forgive me for alarming you.”
He gave her his most natural smile, a smile that often made Ruth pause a moment, grab him, and pull him down to her. Ruth had told him to patent that smile.
Not good. He took a step back.
Charlotte reached out and touched his forearm. “I’m so sorry I even wore it, Dix. The last thing I want to do is to cause you pain. This must be very hard for you.” She paused a moment, cocked her head to the side, just like Christie did, and said slowly, her eyes on his face, “This is why you’re here in San Francisco, isn’t it? Someone who knew your wife told you about me and you came to see if I was Christie. We look that much alike?”
He looked down into that beautiful face and had to force himself to think clearly: This woman isn’t Christie. The bracelet she’s wearing isn’t Christie’s bracelet. Let it go. Go home. Forget all of it. But she was very smart. She’d figured her way through everything quickly.
“Partly, yes. Someone saw you, believed you were Christie.”
“I see. My husband wondered why Corman Sherlock had called him at the last minute when he knew there was little chance the judge would ever have a change of heart about politics.” She paused. “Do you know Thomas was pleased as punch that you kept staring at me all evening? He really liked it that a sexy young gun seemed envious of him. So, you are the reason for the dinner last night, Dix? So you could see me?”
“As I said, that was part of the reason. Fact is, I’m a very close friend of Judge Sherlock’s daughter and her husband. I’m here to speak at a law enforcement conference. I’ll admit it—seeing you nearly drove me to my knees. Talk about an unlikely coincidence, but there you have it. Now it’s over.
“You’ve been very patient with me, Charlotte. Thank you. I have to leave now. I have to go home. Come, I’ll walk you to your car. Where are you parked?”
Before he left her beside her silver Lexus on Level One of the same parking garage, she said, “You asked me why I invited you to lunch.”
He waited.
“I’m not a young girl, Dix, and the truth is I’m drawn to you. Even though I’m married”—she shrugged—”I’m drawn to you. Thomas is very kind, but—” Always a but, Dix thought, as if that were somehow a valid excuse.
When he didn’t say anything, she said, “Will I ever see you again, Dix?”
He thought of all the coincidences, of the two bracelets, and wondered: Why hadn’t her husband had something engraved on the hack of the clasp if it was a wedding present? Andthen he wondered, Was it a new clasp? That wouldn’t be difficult, simply change out a clasp on a bracelet.
Something settled in him, it was a decision made, and he felt calm, in control again. He smiled down at her. “Never say never.”
CHAPTER 16
SAN FRANCISCO
Early Sunday morning
Julia looked down at her boy, his skin so pale it was nearly translucent. He’d gone easily, simply faded away as she’d held his small hand, and that was a blessing. But he didn’t look peaceful, he looked empty and gray.
She watched Dr. Bryer’s hand disengage the monitor, the soft flatline hum now silent. Time passed, a lifetime, a moment. He squeezed her arm, trying to comfort her, but didn’t. He wanted her to say good-bye and walk out of this sterile cold room and leave Linc.
“He’s not here, Julia,” Dr. Bryer said. “He’s at peace. Come with me now.”
Come where?
She saw herself shooting baskets with him down at Skyler Park, saw him doing his favorite hair-raising maneuver in the half-pipe—his back foot smacking the tail of his skateboard against the ground while his front foot pulled the board up high in the air, oh God, too high, then he would pivot, nearly stopping her heart even as his friends shouted “Real tight, Linc, sweet.” How very odd, she thought, staring down at him, Linc had never hurt himself riding his skateboard. Yet a skateboard had killed him.
She saw his small intense face as he sketched her and their rental house, waiting until high tide so he could draw the ocean waves nearly kissing the house pilings. She felt his arms around her neck, squeezing until she squeaked, a longtime game between them, not so comfortable anymore because he was stronger every month.
Julia stared at his slack mouth—no more wet kisses on her cheek, welcoming her home. He had his father’s smart mouth, always with an answer, but even his father was dead, gone three months now.
Linc was gone too. She had to accept it. But not yet, not yet. She picked up his limp hand as she stood beside the obscenely efficient hospital bed. At least there were no more tubes attached to him. They dangled from quiet machines.
She was more alone than she’d ever been in her life. Please wake up, Linc, please, but he didn’t.
He would have turned seven in two weeks.
“Mrs. Taylor, come with me now. It’s time.”
“Thank you, Dr. Bryer, but I would like to stay here with Linc a while longer.” She nodded to the older doctor, Scott Lyland, who’d known her all her life. There were tears in his pale eyes. It nearly broke her.
Time passed, a sluggish cold parade of minutes, before she heard his deep hypnotic voice, August Ransom’s voice, say next to her ear:
“I can tell you what Lincoln is thinking and feeling, Julia. He misses you, but he’s happy, never doubt that. He’s with his grandfather. You know how much he loved Paw-Paw. And yes, there’s his father. Ben loved Linc, Julia, don’t doubt that. I can help you talk with Lincoln, Julia, let me do that.”
Then suddenly that compelling smooth voice wasn’t talking anymore, but she heard something, not his voice, but— she heard something move, whispery, vague with distance, as elusive as those long-ago feelings that still wouldn’t settle. It wasn’t close yet, but it was coming.