Chapter Five
Tybee Island, Georgia
Vicki lugged her baggage up the last two steps and onto the second-floor landing. Thankful she’d chosen a suitcase with wheels, she pulled it down the hall to the bedroom her friend, Rebecca Carlson, had told her she could use for as long as she liked. She pushed open the door, towing the hulking roller bag behind her.
As an artist, her friend’s tastes favored bold colors, intricate artwork, and a collage of mismatched furniture. However, the room she’d directed Vicki to was different. Bright and simplistic in nature, it held a bed with complementary nightstand and lamp, a tall dresser, and a desk. But the most striking element lay opposite the bed. White eyelet curtains framed an immense picture window that revealed the Atlantic Ocean, lying beyond a wide ribbon of ivory sand.
“I see you like the view.”
Vicki turned to Becca, who stood in the doorway. “Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t?”
“Wait till sunset.” The corners of her wide mouth curled into a smile, and her dark-brown eyes glittered. “It’ll knock your socks off.”
“I bet.” She hefted her suitcase onto the bed, the weight bringing protests from the mattress.
“Good Lord, girl.” Becca giggled. “What did you bring?”
“Pretty much all my stuff.” Embarrassed, Vicki glanced up at her friend. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure.” She crossed the room and unzipped the case, her numerous bangle bracelets jingling. Flipping back the lid, she revealed a tangle of shoes and undergarments. “Well, if there’s a lingerie model audition, you’re all set.”
“Funny.” Vicki bumped her hip against Becca’s, moving her nosey friend away from the bed. She dug through the contents and separated them by tossing the undergarments into the dresser while dumping the array of shoes onto the walk-in closet floor. “And no, this isn’t all I brought, so get your mind out of the gutter. I still have two more suitcases, five boxes, and a cosmetics case out in the car.”
“Well, let’s get you moved in already.” Becca grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Removing the teal scarf from around her waist, she used it to pull her long, wavy black hair up into a ponytail. “Sunset is just a couple hours away. Don’t want to miss it.”
Vicki opened her mouth to agree, but, with sharp abruptness, her world tilted, and her friend’s last words sounded guttural and drawn out. Ice filled her veins. The distortions indicated another vision had triggered—involving her childhood friend.
The crisp room around her fell away, a high-pitched whistle piercing her ears while heat branded her neck. Symbols appeared. Letters A, S, and D. A matte-silver tube. Ice cubes. Broken glass. A strange pointed capital D.
The world righted. Pop!
“Are you okay?” Becca placed a warm, reassuring hand on Vicki’s arm, an anchor to reality.
“Yeah.” She paused at the alarm in Becca’s face then added, “Yes. I’m fine.”
“Did you…?”
Vicki widened her eyes. “What?”
“You know.” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “Did you have a vision or something?”
“A vision?” Vicki turned toward her suitcase, shuffling through the remaining items. How could she tell her best friend her life would change radically within two weeks or—Oh God—that she might not live to see spring? “No. I just got a little light-headed. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Oh.” The concern on Becca’s face melted into sunshine. “Well of course you’re tired, sweetie. I’ll get the rest of your stuff. You stay up here and unpack.”
“Really, I’m all right.” She smiled, pausing to give her friend’s arm a squeeze. “Let me get some water, and I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know.” Her eyebrows drew together.
“I’ll carry the light boxes if that’ll get you off my back.” She zipped up the suitcase and stored it in the closet to prove her claims. “Besides, if I don’t help, we’ll miss the sunset.”
“Fine. But just the light boxes.”
When her friend turned toward the door, guilt washed over Vicki. Crap. Why did I look into her eyes? Just because they were best friends didn’t mean she was immune. And just because it hadn’t happened during the many years they’d known each other didn’t mean it would never happen. Grief ripped at her heart, and tears burned her eyes as she tromped down the stairs to the kitchen. She leaned against the sable granite counter in the well-designed kitchen that exuded a distinctive Italian vibe. Becca grabbed a glass from the cabinet.
The symbols she’d seen recurred in her mind, and she focused on them instead of her pain. From experience, she knew each one was significant. But one stood prominent. The pointed D—the same symbol she’d seen in her vision of the brunette carriage driver from the Savannah promotional commercial.
She’d had visions with similar images but never in the same order. The pointed D had been identical and, in both cases, had been the last symbol. That alone must hold some sort of significance. But what? Were the two women going to meet and change each other’s lives somehow?
Vicki drank the cool water Becca gave her. She’d never experienced two visions with such a unique figure in both. It was weird. Unnerving. But mostly it was worrisome, because whatever happened, it involved her best friend.
“I did have a vision before I came here,” she blurted, the guilt of her secrets weighing on her.
Becca tensed. “About me?”
“No, no. Not about you.” She reached out and rubbed her friend’s shoulder. Half the truth. She would start there. “It was really strange, though.”
Becca tucked a loose ebony strand of hair behind her ear. “How?”
“Well, for starters it was about a girl on television.”
“What?” She frowned. “Have you ever had a vision about someone on TV before?”
“Nope. Which is what makes it strange.”
“Did you know her or something?”
“No.” Vicki laid her hands on the counter. The stone was cool beneath her palms, but the smoothness left little for her fingertips to grasp while she prepared for Becca’s questions. “It was one of those late-night destination infomercials.”
“Really?” She sipped her water. “Where to?”
“Savannah.”
Becca’s fingers tightened around the glass. “Is that why you’re here?”
“No. I told you, some crazed reporter did a story about me in a magazine. My picture was in it. I couldn’t stay in Charleston.” Vicki lowered her gaze to the floor. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Becca’s glass clinked as she set it on the counter. “Well, you can hide out here for as long as you like.”
She looked up into her Becca’s dark eyes, finding the culmination of their friendship—they’d always been there for each other. “Thanks.”
“Hey, maybe you need a disguise.”
“What?”
Becca nodded, her hoop earrings swaying. “What magazine did you say the reporter worked for?”
“UFO and Paranormal.”
“UFOP magazine? Oh, well then, I know you need a disguise because all the local grocery stores sell it. So, we’ll need to cut your hair and dye it red.” She made a snipping motion with her fingers. “Maybe one of those short and sassy styles. You know, the kind that looks like you just rolled out of bed after a fabulous tumble with some hot guy.”
Vicki tugged a few of her shoulder-length tresses, assessing her golden-blonde strands. “I’m not sure about a cut or color. But a fabulous tumble sounds good. What ever happened to your hot guy?”
“Wow, it’s getting dark outside.” Becca pushed away from the counter, her bracelets jingling. “We better get the rest of your stuff in.”
“Whoa.” Vicki held up her hand. “You told me Nick was your soul mate. What happened?”
“I was wrong.” With a shrug, she flipped her palms up. “Who knew? Now let’s get your stuff.”
“Wait a minute. I’ve been living vicariously through your amazing relationship with the love of your life, and that’s all you’re going to tell me?” Vicki took her hand, pulling her back to the counter. “I’ve gone on some dates, and they all turned out horrible. With this curse of mine, my chance of finding true love is nonexistent. But you? You have a shot at real happiness. My stuff in the car can wait until tomorrow if need be. Talk to me.”
Becca’s lips thinned into a painful grimace, and her brow furrowed. Her gaze moved down to the granite top where she brushed imaginary crumbs into a small pile.
“There’s not much to tell, really.” She tilted her head, and the strand of wavy hair slipped from behind her ear. “We were going to elope.”
“What? You didn’t tell me.”
“We didn’t mention it to anyone. Not even my parents.” Her slim shoulders rose and fell. “And it’s just as well we didn’t. He left me two days before the wedding.”
“Oh, Becca. I’m so sorry.” Vicki’s chest ached in empathy. She knew from experience how much it sucked being dumped.
“He decided he wasn’t ready to commit. But it’s no big deal.” She lifted her chin, a trembling smile on her lips. “If he doesn’t want me, then I’m better off without him.”
“He’s a freaking idiot,” Vicki growled and gestured toward her. “Who wouldn’t want you? I mean look at you with all your thick black hair and gorgeous body. You’re an artist, for goodness sake. You’re the whole package.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.” She came around the island and hugged her friend. How many times had their roles been reversed?
Becca sighed. “Thanks.”
“But I do agree you’re better off without him.”
“Yeah, him and every other guy on the planet.” Becca broke the embrace and finished the water in her glass. “I think I’m taking a break from men. A long break.”
“Okay.” Vicki nodded. “A break is probably in order. But having a fabulous tumble with a hot guy shouldn’t be out of the question.”
“No. That’s never out of the question.” Becca laughed. “Okay, then. Let’s get your junk upstairs, so we can see the sunset.”
“Hey, maybe a new you is in order.” She followed her friend out the front door. “I hear a cut and color can do wonders.”
Becca tucked the rogue strand back behind her ear and flashed a grin over her shoulder. “We’ll talk about it.”