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Sequel to Riding South
Trapped inside Tenney House and at the mercy of his father, Camilla and South are forced to face their greatest fears in order to bring down the Gentleman's Network--an organizat...
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"My sister?"
I set the envelope aside before studying the picture, hoping to find Lydie's infectious smile and playful eyes staring back at me. At the same time, my hope was tempered by the usual feelings that now accompanied thoughts of my older sister. Sadness. Anger. The soul-crushing longing to hear the chime of her voice.
Lydie had this way of bringing people in. She spoke to everyone like they were her very best friend, and she was on the verge of telling a secret.
I squinted, examining the grainy photograph more closely. The shot was crowded with people dressed in elegant gowns and sharp tuxedoes, and from this angle, seeing the bartender's face with any clarity was impossible.
"I'm not sure," I admitted, hearing disappointment in my own voice. "It's hard to say."
I waited for Tom to follow up his strange question with something more—an explanation of why he wanted me to look at this particular photograph at this particular moment. But, Tom didn't share his private thoughts with me. He merely sat with his hands folded, waiting.
No—daring me to look again.
From what I could tell, the bartender in the picture was tall, with long limbs and long hair pulled back. I shook my head, still unsure. There were plenty of tallish, blondish girls in the world.
"We need to be out in two minutes," South said quietly beside me, removing a little black listening device from his pocket. "I'm going to set this up."
I watched him slide out from the chair and maneuver towards the other side of Mr. McGilvary's desk before turning my attention back to the photo.
Frowning, I tried once again to glean any detail about the girl, but the picture was just too grainy. This was silly, I decided. This couldn't be a picture of my sister.
Sure, my sister liked to have a good time, but she'd never been a bartender. She went to the Naval Academy right after high school, just like our dad had done. Being a Naval Officer was her first and only job.
Unless you counted that summer we were camp counselors, but I hardly considered that work. It was more of an excuse for Lydie and I to spend time together, hiking in Georgia lowlands and hunting for shells.
Taking the summer job had been Lydie's idea, of course. Anything exciting I'd ever done had been Lydie's idea.
Even though I didn't think this girl could be my sister, I was curious why Tom Fredericksen—who was practically New England royalty—thought it could be.
And more importantly, why did he care?
"When was this picture taken?" I asked, an unavoidable knot forming in my throat.
Tom leaned back in his chair and removed his cell phone, glancing at the screen. Distracted as he said, "Two days ago."
Two days ago?My eyes went wide. Was this some joke? Although, I couldn't understand why Tom would make such a distasteful jab.
