Julia Penney - Her Sister's Keeper

Melanie forced the memories out of her mind and turned her attention back to the letter.

I don’t expect your forgiveness, but maybe one day you will want to meet your new niece. She’s so beautiful, and I hope she takes after you. Strong, smart, brave and dependable. All the things I’m not. All the things I admired so much about you. All the things I lost. And please try to forgive Mitch. I think, no, I believe, he realized how much he had hurt both of us. He wasn’t a bad man. He was just caught up in the Hollywood scene and he let it go to his head. He really wanted it to work between us and to support this baby. I regret she will never know her father.

Mel, I love you. If nothing else, please believe that. I would like to tell you that in person, and maybe someday in the future I can. We’re going away for a few weeks but maybe when I get back we can come visit you. Motherhood is going to be the toughest part I’ve ever played. It’s going to be hard and it’s going to be lonely, but I can do it. I have you for a role model, after all. You’re so strong, and I’ve been so weak, but that’s going to change, I promise you that. And I ask you to promise me one thing. No matter how you feel about me, if anything ever happens to me, please, I beg you, take care of my little girl.

So, for now this is goodbye. When we get back, I’ll call you. I can only hope it is a call you will take.

All my love,

Ari.

These were the most honest, self-aware and heartfelt words she had heard from her sister in years. And, thanks to Melanie’s obstinate refusal to talk to her sister, this last communiqué was one- sided. “What a fool I’ve been,” she whispered.

“Are you all right?” Kent asked.

He was standing very close. Probably ready to catch me again.

“Just give me a minute,” she said, not turning. Instead, she looked up from the letter and out the window. The sun was over the Pacific and the waters gleamed with a thousand jewels on the waves. It had been their favorite time of day. In happier times, it was the kind of late afternoon when she would have come home from a long day on set with a huge bag of Chinese takeout and a wealth of Hollywood gossip to share with her little sister. The two would take the food and a blanket down to the private beach below the estate and have a feast, staying until the last golden rays fell below the waves.

“We never did see it,” she said out loud.

“Excuse me?” Kent said.

“The green flash, we never saw it in all the time we were here.”

Kent was looking at her oddly. Perhaps he was thinking the letter was the final straw needed that day to break the back of her sanity.

Without turning from the window, she said, “You mean to say that you live and work on the California coast and you’ve never heard of the green flash?”

“Hey, I just work on the coast. I’m a mountain man, born and bred.”

She finally turned toward him. “Few people have seen it and lots of folks don’t even believe it ever happens. But the story goes, on evenings when the conditions are right, as the sun sets behind the ocean its last rays, just for an instant, shine through the waves far out to sea. In that instant the sunlight flashes green across the sky. Ari and I spent a lot of nights down on the beach waiting to see it.”

In the ensuing silence, Melanie was able to collect herself and, for the first time in those awful months since the aborted wedding, think clearly. It was as if a fog was lifting and she could look inside with brutal objectivity. She had spent the last six months foolishly blaming everyone but herself for her misery. She had blamed Mitch for his philandering, she had blamed Victor for introducing her to Mitch and most of all she had blamed Ari for ruining her life. Now she realized the only blame belonged on her shoulders. She had been faced with a choice: deal with what had happened and move on, or wallow in self-pity and melancholy, thereby punishing everyone around her.

Her choice had cost her dearly. One by one her friends, all but Stephanie, had given up on her, leaving her to her own state of misery. Her work had suffered to the point that even Victor had warned her that her career was in real jeopardy. And the heaviest toll of all had been the erosion of her relationship with Ariel. Well, no more. The dreadful, endless day that had started with the desperate move of seeking help from an outside professional had somehow brought her to this point of realization: The only one who could help her was her. On the spot she made a series of promises to herself. No more excuses. No more self-pity. No more wallowing in the past.

She straightened, squared her shoulders and turned to Kent. “Dr. Mattson, we have to find my sister as soon as possible.”

SOMETHING IN Melanie’s voice made Kent look closely at her. Gone was the vulnerable patient who had bolted from his office. Gone, too, was the bewildered woman who had just suffered through the discovery of her best friend’s corpse, the official identification of the body and nearly two hours of police questioning.

Instead, he had the distinct impression he was seeing the real Melanie Harris for the first time, and he marveled at the change. Kent would have predicted months, if not years of intensive therapy to put back together the broken woman he had met that morning. He raised an eyebrow.

“Do you know where she was planning to go?”

“No, I don’t, but at least we know she’s all right. This letter was dated two days ago. She knew she was going away and must have been planning to have Victor give me that letter,” Melanie said. “Victor might know where she’s gone.”

“Who’s this Victor you keep mentioning?”

“Victor Korchin. He owns this estate. He’s my boss, and a good friend.”

“Why is that name so familiar?”

“Victor’s a film director.”

“Ah, yes. Korchin Studios.” Murphy had mentioned that name to him earlier. This time, Kent did curse aloud. “No doubt Victor has close ties to your sister, who happens to be a successful actress,” he prodded.

Melanie hesitated. “Yes. Victor’s been like a father to her.”

“But somehow you just forgot to mention to us this little connection between the two of them?”

Melanie dropped her eyes from his accusing stare. “I’m sorry.”

“I hope he knows something about your sister’s whereabouts, since she didn’t leave many clues in that letter and the only other person we might have questioned is dead. I’ll have a couple of detectives dispatched here immediately to question him and search this place properly, now that we’ve messed up any potential evidence.” He reached for the cell phone clipped to a holder on his hip, but before he could make his call, it rang.

“Mattson here,” he said.

Melanie could tell that Kent was on the receiving end of a call from his boss.

“Hold on a sec,” Kent was saying as he fished a notepad out of his pocket and leaned over the desk, pen in hand. “Okay, what do you have?” He listened, scribbling furiously. “Got it. Thanks. And Murph? You might want to send a team out to Victor Korchin’s estate. Ariel Moore and her baby might have been living at the guest cottage here. We found a letter that she wrote two days ago to her sister, and she could still be somewhere on the premises. We haven’t approached the main house yet.” He gave her the address before ending the call and turning back to Melanie.

“Do they have any leads?” she asked.

“No, but they’ve made a positive ID of the other victim found earlier this morning.”

“There was another victim? Who?”

Kent paused. “What the hell. You’ll probably hear it on the evening news.” He flipped through the pages of his notepad. “Her name was Rachel Fisher, age thirty-seven, and she lived at…”