On the drive to New Haven, Semele tried calling her mother’s cell and the home line countless times. With every minute that passed, her panic intensified.
When they arrived, they found her front door unlocked and the lights on. Unfamiliar music was playing on the stereo. Helen’s purse sat on the kitchen counter next to her keys, and her Audi was still parked in the driveway.
“Mom?” Semele cried out when she saw the dining chair on its side.
The signs of a struggle echoed through the room.
A coffee cup lay shattered on the floor, and a bowl of cereal was overturned on the table.
“Mom!” She sank to her knees.
Theo put his arms around her. “We’re going to find her. Semele, listen to me. We’re going to find her.”
For minutes she cried gut-wrenching sobs, unable to calm down. She had reached her breaking point.
“We’re going to find her.” Theo kept saying the words until they registered. Slowly, she calmed and attempted several deep breaths. “That’s it,” he encouraged.
The house phone rang.
“It’s him.” She sprang for the phone. “There’s another in my father’s study. Hurry!”
Theo raced to the other room.
Semele snatched up the receiver and yelled, “Where is she?”
“Good.” The man chuckled. “Good! You are awake now. I can hear your passion.” He took a labored breath. “It’s amazing what losing your friend has done for you so quickly. You knew right away to run home to Mommy. Bravo,” he taunted her. “But isn’t this what you wanted after you found out the truth about your birth? To give Mommy away, so that she’d know what it was like?”
“No.” Semele’s voice trembled.
“Intuition can be triggered by many kinds of crises, Semele. My father, in his extensive studies, found a threat to a loved one most effective. But such parameters are hard to duplicate in a laboratory. So I’ve got you out in the real world, where I can conduct this experiment with high confidence. And the messiness of life can do wonders. Like your father, his death was the tragedy that started you on this yellow brick road. How I’ve enjoyed watching.”
Semele slid to the floor.
“I saw her that night at the gala—your mother. We met at the bar. Such a lovely woman, Helen. I got her and Joseph drinks. She was so talkative, never suspecting what I had done.”
Semele covered her mouth to keep from crying as she listened to his confession. He went on.
“But she couldn’t have saved him that night, dear girl. Yet you still blame her. I think it’s because, deep down, you blame yourself for not foreseeing his death. Time to own up to the truth, because there’s no hiding it from me.”
Semele gripped her stomach.
“Nettie chose your parents quite carefully, knowing her granddaughter would grow up under the guidance of a brilliant scholar who would encourage her to embrace history and challenge her to learn Greek until she could read it as well as he could. Nettie wanted you to find Ionna’s manuscript and recognize yourself within the pages. But I knew that Joseph Cavnow would have only gotten in the way now. His part had been played, and strokes can happen at any age.”
Tears fell from Semele’s eyes as she listened to him.
“You were lucky, though. The two of you shared a close bond while he was alive. I was my father’s worst disappointment.”
It took all her will to speak, but she had to know. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you know?” When she didn’t say anything, he laughed again, drawing heavily on his oxygen. “That’s the shame of family secrets. You’re supposedly one of the great seers, the Keeper of the Gift. Your grandmother grasped this power but did not live to pass her insights on to you. Pity, since you’re the one who will need them most. For years you’ve been unwilling to believe. And without belief you have nothing.”
He hung up again.
“Wait!” she yelled, but he was gone. She slammed down the receiver. “Dammit!”
She took the phone and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and crashed to the floor. She sank down to her knees crying, now a heaving mess.
She tried to think—she had to calm down. This psycho had her mother and God only knew what he was going to do to her—what he had already done.
Theo hurried into the room with a strange expression on his face.
She looked up, meeting his eyes. “What?” She gritted her teeth in desperation.
“What he said … about his father. Nettie and Liliya were always afraid Evanoff would find them, even after they created new identities for themselves in Austria.”
“Now his son has found us.” Semele’s body tingled. She knew that was the answer.
The song playing on the stereo looped and the same music filled the room again. The melody pulled at Semele and surrounded her.
Then the harp solo began.
She stood up, feeling light-headed.
“This music…,” she said, approaching the stereo.
Her parents never owned music like this. And suddenly she understood. “He left this music when he took her.”
She ejected the disk. The CD wasn’t from a store. It was burned from a computer, and on the disk was a handwritten message.
Very good. Now find her.
Seeing his handwriting again gave her chills. Unlike the note at the hospital, this message included a lowercase y and g that showed a glaring personality trait: the letters had been written with a straight line down and an angry slash to the side instead of a loop. This was a rare occurrence that experts called the Felon’s Claw, and it showed a dangerous propensity for manipulation only seen in extreme criminals.
Semele stared at the note a long minute, the music filling the silence. She turned to Theo with utter certainty.
“Aishe played this music. He wants me to go to Paris.”