Free Face of Betrayal by Lis Wiehl Page A

There’s something on top of it. Maybe it’s an Oldsmobile?”
    Despite herself, Nicole felt her skin prickle. She saw Katie, not sitting in a car, but sprawled unmoving in the trunk. A spill of honey-blonde hair across her open, staring eyes.
    “Katie, tell me what I’m looking at, sweetie. Come on. Tell me where you are. Are you in the car?” Her plump hands, with rings on every finger, kneaded the sweater.
    There was a long silence. Lorena cocked her head to one side, as if listening. “There are trees where she is. A lot of them.”
    Good guess, Lorena. Oregon is nothing but trees.
    “But is she alive?” Wayne demanded.
    “Water. She’s near water.”
    Near water. Give me a break. Every place in Portland is near water. We’ve got the Columbia and Willamette rivers and countless creeks and streams. Not to mention the rain.
    But Valerie and Wayne had grabbed each other’s hands.
    “I see something green. A duffle bag? And I’m hearing a name like Larry.” She drew the name out, giving it an extra syllable. “Lar-er-y. Or something like that.” Her face screwed up. “Katie, where are you? Are you with someone named Larry? No, that’s not it, is it? But something close. Is it someone you know?”
    Good choice, Lorena. How many names rhyme with Larry? Mary, Harry, Carrie, Barry, Jeri, Terry? Half the city probably qualifies.
    “Mmm,” Lorena moaned. The pitch of her voice had changed, arced higher. Her head was loose, her neck boneless. “Mmm.”
    The three of them stared at her.
    “Mommy.” Her voice was high-pitched and breathy. “Mommy. Where are you?”
    The back of Nic’s neck prickled. Stop it! she warned herself. Don’t fall for this crap. Despite knowing it was a bunch of hooey, there was something about the woman’s voice that was getting to her.
    Valerie leaned forward and tentatively touched Lorena’s arm. “I’m right here, honey. I’m right here.”
    “It’s dark,” Lorena whimpered. “I’m scared.” She whimpered again. “Mommy? Mommy?”
    Then it was like the older woman had touched a live wire. Her body jerked upright, and her arms and legs stiffened, breaking contact with Valerie. Her eyes snapped open.
    “What did you see?” Wayne’s voice broke. “Tell me. Is she alive?”
    Lorena’s voice was soft and slurred, as if she was only slowly coming back from where she had been. “I saw Katie laughing and smiling.”
    Nic stiffened. This was cruel. This was downright cruel. Katie laughing and smiling? Why give these poor people false hope?
    Valerie’s hand shot out and gripped Lorena’s forearm, her fingers digging in. “She’s alive, then?” Her voice was ragged.
    “Sometimes I see the future and sometimes I see the past.” Lorena sounded exhausted. “And sometimes I see the present.”
    “Was she with someone?” Wayne asked. His hand closed on Lorena’s other wrist. “What was she wearing? Was it this time of year?”
    “Did she look older or younger?” Valerie asked.
    The three of them were in a tight knot. Only Nic leaned away from what was going on. At some point, although she didn’t remember doing it, she had crossed her arms.
    “I don’t know,” Lorena murmured. “I don’t know. The spirits didn’t reveal that to me.”
    “At the end, she sounded so scared,” Valerie said. Her eyes shone with tears—the first time Nic had seen her close to crying. “Was she scared where she was?”
    “I couldn’t see anything at that point.” Lorena covered her eyes with her fingers. “It was like I went blind.”
    “Katie calls you Mom,” Wayne said to Valerie. “Not Mommy. Never Mommy.”
    Valerie blinked, and a single tear ran down her perfectly made-up face. “No. That’s what she called Cindy.”
    “Who’s Cindy?” Nic asked.
    Wayne turned to her with a look of surprise, as if he had forgotten she was there. “My first wife. Katie’s mom. She died when Katie was eighteen months old.” His wet eyes implored Lorena. “Do you