Stone Cold Fox (78)

“Yeah, he seems fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay, well, I don’t think today works for lunch, but I could look to—”

“Actually, it’s important. Can I pull the friendship card here? I really have to talk to you about something,” Syl said.

“All right,” I said, my interest fully piqued. The friendship card! “I can shift some things around. Where and what time?” I had no idea what Syl wanted to discuss, but the tone of her voice suggested something dramatic. So did the unfamiliar meeting place she selected. A tavern of some kind, poor signage, a place you’d walk right past. The interior was dark, not very crowded, but the crowd that had gathered was a bit rough. Very rough. It wasn’t really a place to dine, more a place to drink. Or plan a murder.

Syl was already there when I arrived, sitting anxiously in the corner booth, her knee bouncing up and down underneath the table. She gave me the smallest of waves and the smallest of smiles. She was a bundle of nervous energy, unable to sit still.

“Syl, hi. Are you okay?” I asked her, approaching the table. “What is this place?” I laughed a little to lighten the mood, but she didn’t join me.

“I know. I’m sorry it’s a dive, but I wanted to go somewhere more private.” Her voice was shakier than it had been on the phone. She spoke faster than normal. I sat down next to her, considerably concerned about what she was going to say.

“Is this about John?” I asked, wondering if she just needed a friend and a shot or two, post-breakup. And really, it was high time she dumped him. He had nothing to offer her.

“No, no. John’s fine.” Syl bit her nails. I’d never noticed her doing that before.

“Okay. Well, I’m here,” I replied, unable to hide the minor annoyance in my voice. Out with it already! The suspense was getting to be too much and I was on edge as it was.

“I know, I know,” she said softly, eyes down at the table, as if she was psyching herself up.

“Should I be afraid?” I took a seat next to her in the booth, but not too close.

Syl finally looked me in the eye. Hers were glassy, coated with tears at the ready to begin their descent down her cheeks. It was dire, and strangely, no, impossibly, I felt like I knew what she was about to say before she even said it aloud.

“I think you might be my sister,” she whispered.

I waited for a follow-up statement in sheer panic mode, bewildered at the thought. For a moment, my mind immediately went to Gale, but I couldn’t connect any dots. Plus, Syl was legitimately crying. She was emotional and upset, but from where on earth did she pull such a ridiculous notion? How? And why did I think she could be telling the truth? It was a lovely and horrifying thought all at the same time.

Sisters.

“I think we have the same father,” she sniffled. “And—”

“Syl, I think you have the wrong girl. I—”

“You’re not from North Carolina,” she said, with more strength in her voice. She was convinced!

“What are you—”

“Stop lying to me now. Just stop.”

Commands? From Syl? I didn’t care much for that at all. My guard was going right back up. This was too chaotic, even for me.

“I’m not ly—”

“You are!” she shouted, cutting me off. “But it’s okay,” she added, touching my hand sympathetically, rubbing her fingers across my knuckles in a way that I found supremely annoying. I loathed being patronized. “I know this must sound crazy because you probably didn’t know I even existed. Right? She never told you?”

“Who?” I asked, my throat low. Again I heard her response in my mind before she said it.

“Our mother,” she uttered. The word sent a deep chill down my body. But she couldn’t know Mother. She was mine and mine alone. This wasn’t real. Syl was mistaken. Wasn’t she?

“Syl. I don’t know what to say. You’ve got the wrong information or something, I mean, I’m not your sister.” I laughed in her face, fully committing to being Bea Case, despite my inward spiral. I wouldn’t show Syl anybody else. I wouldn’t show anyone. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. Do you have someone you can talk to about this? I think the situation with your father is affecting you more than you realize. They say that trauma can manifest much later than—”

Now Syl was the one laughing. Cruel and cutting. Like a villain. Like her. “You’re good, Bea. You are really, really good. And hey, I’m not calling into question anything about what you’ve done for yourself, I swear. It’s fucking impressive. I bow down to you. I mean, I like you, too, genuinely. We’re friends, right? That we can agree on.”

“We’ll see,” I said. I didn’t appreciate her changing tone. It seemed erratic. Like an amateur. But still, how was she morphing into somebody else right in front of my eyes? How did she fool me? How did she find me?

“Just hear me out, okay? Aren’t you curious? You must be.” Yes, I was curious. I was dying to hear her story, even if it was frightening and could threaten my entire station in life. “Our father is in federal prison for a double murder he didn’t commit,” she said. “Our mother and you.”

I didn’t want to hear any more, but still, I wanted to know everything. Were we a part of a family after all? It didn’t matter. Not to Bea Case. She had her own family now. “That is insane, Syl. I’m not sure what kind of game you’re trying to run on me or on Collin, but—”