Present Day

JESSKA HEARD THE doorbell peal through her little duplex and, after checking the peephole, pulled open the door. “Well, hi there, Winky.”

Amanda giggled. “You can’t call me that anymore, you know.”

“You might have married Marc Miller, but you’ll always be my Winky.” Jesska grinned. “Come in. Where’s Kiana?”

Amanda’s four-year-old was the cutest, and busiest, little girl on the planet.

“She’s with Marc. Daddy-daughter bonding time,” Amanda said, and took off her coat before holding up a bottle of Jesska’s favorite wine. “I thought you and I could drink a little and find out who Manny sends home this week.”

“You know I love it when you just pop over,” Jesska droned.

“No, I know you hate it, but since you’ve been dodging my phone calls for almost a week now, I figured desperate measures and all that.”

“I haven’t been dodging you.”

Amanda pointed at her. “So, you have no idea what today is.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re wearing his sweatshirt, babe.”

Today was the tenth anniversary of Seth’s death, and Jesska had been inconsolable most of the day, as she was every anniversary. Her friends and family knew to leave her alone... except for Amanda, who inserted herself whenever possible.

Jesska huffed. “Fine. Okay. I’d hoped to be by myself, but if you insist on joining my pity party, you better get comfortable. You’re just lucky you brought the wine—you’d never have gotten in without it.”

Amanda handed her the bottle. “It’s Bachelor night. We can watch it together in real time.”

“I was thinking I might just watch it, drink some wine, and take a bath.”

“Yeah, your obsession with tubby time’s a little weird.”

“You’re just jealous.”

Amanda sighed. “You’re right. I never have time to relax like that anymore. Plus, I don’t have a kickass claw-foot tub at my disposal.”

Jesska laughed. “Is it weird I chose my house based on the tub?”

“Oh, babe, you surpassed weird about a lot of different things a while ago.” Amanda grinned, flopping onto the couch. “Come on. Which lady will it be this week, hmm? Enquiring minds want to know.”

“I think ‘lady’ is generous. Especially when talking about that Rosa chick.”

“Yes, probably.” Amanda giggled. “Got ice cream?”

“Do I have ice cream?” Jesska snorted. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

Amanda cued up The Bachelor while Jesska prepared bowls of ice cream and poured wine. Manuel Garcia was the new bachelor and the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He was the Latino dream, with his chiseled body and beautiful face, complete with dimples that Amanda and Jesska were convinced he used as weapons. Manny was the most popular bachelor in six seasons, and the women were horrible. All but a couple of them, anyway.

By the time the show ended, and Jesska and Amanda had discussed Manny’s date with Alana, one of the ladies both Jesska and Amanda liked, they’d gone through an entire carton of ice cream and a bottle and a half of wine. Jesska had even broken down and grabbed a box of tissues.

“I should have had that,” Jesska complained.

“The chance to vie for a guy’s love and devotion against twenty-four other psycho women?”

“I’m not psycho.”

“Oh, right, sorry. Twenty-four psycho women and you.”

Jesska snorted. “Do not tell me you didn’t think Alana’s date was über romantic. Manny was adorable. And Seth did stuff like that all the time. I should have had that.”

“I know, buddy,” Amanda agreed. “But maybe there’s someone else out there for you. Maybe God has a bigger plan.”

Jesska bit back an insult. It wasn’t Amanda’s fault she still believed in some old man in the sky who liked to devastate young women by killing off the people they loved. It also didn’t matter that even though Amanda had graduated with a degree in rocket science and had just quit her job at NASA, Jesska always thought she was very, very pretty, but lacked a little in the brains department. She was far too loving and trusting to be a genius. But outside of Amanda’s paltry street smarts and her religious views, Jesska adored her.

“I see you’re trying to reconcile my looks with my brains again.”

“Don’t talk to me like you know me,” Jesska retorted.

Amanda laughed as she checked her phone. “Marc’s wondering what time I’m going to be home.”

Jesska smiled. “How much have you had to drink? I’m not sure you should drive.”

“I had two glasses, lady. You drank the rest.”

“Shut up.”

“Serious.” Amanda rose to her feet and stretched.

“So you’re okay to drive?”

“I’m great to drive. My directive has been achieved.”

“Which was?”

“Keeping you distracted for a few hours.”

Jesska sighed, realizing she felt quite a bit better after girl time and a good cry. “Again, Winky, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me like you know me.”

Amanda laughed. “Too late. Will you go straight to bed, or do you need me to stay and sing you a wuwwaby until you fall asweep?”

“Suck it, Winky,” Jesska joked as she rose to her feet. “I wish I could say you’re annoyingly mommy-ish now that you’re actually a mom, but that trait started long ago.”

“Guilty.” Amanda grabbed her purse and coat. “Oh, would you be able to watch Kiana on Wednesday night?”

“Totally. It’s my turn to drive for the carpool, so I can pick her up after I drop off Betty, if you like.”

“You’re a life saver!” Amanda exclaimed. “Marc and I need a date night and he has tickets to a movie preview.”

“Ooh, fun. Which one?”

“Okay, don’t laugh.”

Jesska laughed.

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “I said don’t laugh.”

“Which makes me want to do it all the more.”

“That’s true. My bad,” Amanda conceded. “Anyway, his high school buddy did this documentary on Portland and its history, and he’s premiering it for family and a couple of close friends. Marc was invited.”

“That’s actually really cool,” Jesska said.

“I hope so. If it sucks, Marc and I’ll just make out in the back row.” Amanda grinned. “Anyway, thanks again. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Sounds good.”

“You good?”

“Yep.”

“No cutting,” she begged.

“No, babe, I’m good.” I hugged her.

It had been three weeks since she’d self-harmed and felt pretty good about that milestone.

“Hey, thanks, Winky. Seriously.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Jesska hugged Amanda again and watched her walk to her car before closing and locking the door. She was exceedingly grateful to her best friend as she fell asleep relatively quickly.

* * *

Thursday morning Jesska sat in her boss’s office and went over the proxy filings in front of her. An executive assistant for a high-powered human resources benefits guru, she was still trying to figure out what she wanted out of life. For now, however, she sat staring at the verbiage only people far smarter than she understood swimming before her.

Or it could be that babysitting her surrogate niece had worn her out. Kiana loved coming to Auntie Jess’s house, and made Amanda pack a small suitcase with all manner of outfits for them to play dress-up. Jesska was convinced Kiana would one day be a writer... her storytelling unmatched by most adults.

For now, however, Jesska was required to pull the relevant information from the documents for her boss by noon, and her eyes were starting to cross with the tedium of it all. She hated her job most days, but she lived with it because she needed the money. And, if she was being honest, she pretty much hated her life as well. Why should her job be any different?

“Aha,” she breathed, locating the company information she needed. Maybe she was starting to understand some of this gibberish after all. She highlighted her findings, made a neat pile for her boss to go through, and headed back to her own desk.

“Hey, Jess.” Her coworker, Betty, peeked over the partition. “Ready for lunch?”

Jesska nodded. “Yep. Just let me check my e-mail, and then I’ll be all set.”

Betty sat back down at her desk and Jesska opened her e-mail just as her phone rang. Without taking her eyes from the screen, she answered it. “This is Jess.”

“Ah, Jessie Shane?”

Only Megan called her “Jessie.”

“Yes, this is Jessie.” She took a second to check the caller ID, but it didn’t give any helpful information.

An older woman’s voice said, “Miss Shane, your sister and niece have been in a motor vehicle accident, and you’re in her phone as an emergency contact.”

“What happened? Are they okay?” Jesska stood and grabbed her purse.

“That’s all I can tell you right now. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, where are they? I’ll be right there.”

“Legacy Emanuel. ICU.”

“Ah, thanks,” she said, and hung up the phone. “Betty, my sister and niece have been hurt. I have to go.”

“Is she okay?” Betty asked, popping her head over the cubicle again.

Jesska grabbed her jacket. “I have no idea. Can you let Tim know? I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”

She rushed down to her car and sped out of the parking garage a little faster than she probably should have, hitting Naito Parkway and heading to the freeway. “Call Dad,” she ordered her hands-free system. The call went to voice mail, so Jesska left a message and tried her mother. “Call Mom.”

No luck there either, so she left a message just as she arrived at the hospital entrance. She sent up a silent prayer to the traffic gods and hunted for a parking space.

* * *

Bíldudalur, Iceland

Kaspar Baldursson waved his hand, catching the book that came flying from the top shelf, and sat in one of the library chairs facing the large bay window in his home. He didn’t really know why he’d grabbed the book; he doubted he’d be able to focus enough to read it anyway.

He stared out the large bay window at the great expanse of snow covering the ground. Winter lasted much longer in his remote corner of the world, which suited him just fine. He’d lived in the tiny fishing village for longer than most people could fathom, and he wouldn’t live anywhere else.

A knock at the door brought his youngest brother, Gunnar. Their middle brother, Ari, had disappeared, and no one had heard from him for more than a week. Not wholly unusual, but for whatever reason, this time Kaspar was worried.

“Any news?” he asked, and laid the book on the table next to the chair, standing to face his brother.

Gunnar shook his head. “Nothing. He’s just gone.”

“And he’s not at his apartment?”

“His man said Ari hasn’t been there for several days.”

Kaspar sighed. “Well, he can’t just be gone, Gunnar. Still, it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. He heads out somewhere, sees a shiny object and follows it, but usually we’re able to reach him.”

Ari was notoriously easy to distract, and with unlimited money from his sometimes creative business dealings, he could afford to do whatever he liked. He didn’t answer to anyone, which occasionally meant he’d disappear for a while, remembering too late to let his brothers know where he was.

Gunnar chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Have you looked into these allegations against him?”

“That he refused to pay some kind of extortion money?” Gunnar snorted. “You’re not seriously going to listen to some woman who’s angry that he won’t give her money, are you? Whatever she has to say will be a lie. Just another way to get his money.”

“Are you sure that’s it? Have you looked into her claims?” he asked again.

“No, I haven’t looked into them.”

“Well, I have.”

“Why, Kaspar? The allegations are unfounded. She’s a gold digger.”

“She hasn’t asked for anything. Not one aurar,” Kaspar countered.

“She will. They always do.”

“What do you mean, they always do?” Kaspar leaned forward in an attempt to intimidate Gunnar. His brother pressed his lips into a thin line. “Gunnar.”

Gunnar crossed his arms. “This is not the first woman who has demanded money not to ‘out’ the actions of our brother.”

“What?” Kaspar frowned. “This has happened before? When?”

“Ages ago, brother.” Gunnar waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not even worth mentioning.”

Kaspar dragged his hands down his face. “Why have you kept this from me?”

Gunnar chuckled and then grew serious again. “Kaspar, you’re never here. At least, not in the sense of what the people expect. You sit on your gilded throne, where you hear nothing, and you think everything’s fine.”

“Are you saying I’m out of touch?”

“A bit, yes,” Gunnar said. “But no more than you usually are.”

Kaspar swore. His brother was right. He’d been out of sorts for a long time. “I apologize.”

“You don’t need to,” Gunnar insisted. “This is what I’m trying to say. We have it handled.”

“I don’t think you do,” Kaspar challenged.

Gunnar shook his head. “Fine. If you think you can do better, what is your proposal?”

“I’m going to come with you into town tomorrow and speak with the woman personally.”

“Does that mean you’re coming down from the gilded throne?”

Kaspar shook his head. “Look, I understand that I’ve been a little hands-off lately, but I will endeavor to make changes to rectify that. Will that suffice?”

Gunnar bowed low. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Kaspar flicked his hand, sending a book flying toward his brother’s head. Gunnar was obviously ready for the assault, and he stepped aside with a chuckle before being hit.

“I’ll be ready to go at nine. I’ll be sure the woman is available.”

“Thank you,” Kaspar said, and effectively dismissed his brother.