"What about her Child Protective Services caseworker? Does she meet her somewhere?"
"No, that woman comes here once a month.” Mrs. Peach's tone left no doubt about how she viewed those regular visits. “Pokes into everything, as if we'd mistreat the child."
"Do you have any idea where Elizabeth might have gone? And why? Did she mention anything that was troubling her?"
"Elizabeth barely spoke to me. She wasn't rude; she simply wasn't interested. You'd probably have better luck with the caseworker. I think they actually got on rather well, considering."
"Considering?"
"Well, they aren't exactly on a par socially, are they? I mean, with her share of the trust, Elizabeth's already worth more than that woman will see in a hundred lifetimes. And she's—” Mrs. Peach stopped abruptly and gave a nervous, little cough. “Well. I can give you her name and number, if you'd like."
"I'd appreciate that, thank you. And the tutor, if possible."
"Of course. I'll see to it. Now, if there's nothing else?” She gave Cyn an absent look, her mind obviously having already moved on to her next task.
"Could I see her room, please?"
"Certainly.” Mrs. Peach turned to Mirabelle, clearly thought better of it, and called into an adjoining room. “Kelli!"
Cyn noticed Mirabelle's flush of embarrassment, although she was pretty sure the housekeeper didn't. Mrs. Peach might be a great housekeeper, but her people skills made Cyn look like Miss Congeniality.
A slight girl in a pink uniform dress came into view, her eyes wide with curiosity. Thick brown hair was pulled back into a long braid to reveal multiple piercings in each of her ears, in addition to the small loop above one eyebrow.
"Kelli, show Ms. Leighton here where Elizabeth's room is and don't dawdle. You need to finish that silver tonight or there'll be no day off for you tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am,” Kelli said obediently. She looked up at Cyn with a wicked smile and the revealing flash of a tongue stud. “This way, please, Miss."
Elizabeth's room was on the first floor, in a quiet corner all by itself. Hers was the only door opening onto the hallway, and the hallway itself led directly to the kitchen, which was the one place on an estate of this size where some servant or other would almost always be awake. For all that no one seemed to pay much attention to Liz, someone had been careful enough to restrict her movements and associations. Or at least try to. Kelli led them into the modest room, going immediately to a transom window on the far wall and cranking it open, letting in the fresh air.
"It gets so stuffy in here, closed up all the time. That's the way Liz liked it, though. She liked her privacy."
Cyn was doing a quick visual survey, noting the absence of a lock on the door and the plain, straight-backed chair sitting against the nearby wall. The top edge of the chair back was scratched and gouged. Liz had fashioned her own lock, it would seem. Good for her. Cyn looked over at Kelli. “You were friends?” she asked.
Kelli frowned, giving Mirabelle a sideways glance. Mirabelle caught the look, and Cyn saw a knowing flash of dismay cross her face.
"I'll wait outside,” Mirabelle said softly. “I can use the fresh air.” She paused on her way out and without looking back said, “I love my sister.” She glanced up then, tears sparkling in her blue eyes. “And I don't want him to find her.” Then she left the room, almost running down the hallway.
Kelli waited until Mirabelle's footsteps faded completely before giving Cyn an uncomfortable look. “I didn't mean to hurt her feelings, but...” She shrugged. “She's a vamp. Anything I say in front of her might go right back to Lord Jabril. It's not her fault, but it's the way it is.” She gave Cyn a searching look. “I need to know. If you find Liz, what happens then? I mean are you going to make her come back here? She'll be eighteen soon, you know. You can't make her do anything after that."
Cyn returned Kelli's stare. “No,” she said finally. “There's no way in hell I'm bringing a child back to this place. I don't care if she's eight or eighteen."
Kelli studied Cyn, clearly trying to decide whether to believe her or not. “How do I know I can trust you?” she said. “I mean, Liz is a friend and ... how do I know?"
"You don't,” Cyn said honestly.
"Yeah.” Kelli laughed awkwardly. “It sucks.” She blew out a long breath. “Okay. I guess ... okay."
"So?” Cyn said.
"So maybe we talked sometimes, Liz and me."
"Do you know where she is?” Cyn asked directly.
Kelli stared down at her hands which were tugging nervously on the pink uniform skirt. Her gaze darted up for a quick look, then she nodded decisively and pushed the door closed before turning to Cyn. “She didn't say anything specific about going anywhere. Not exactly. But...” She pinched her mouth and took a deep breath. “Liz got out a lot more than anyone knew. She's smart, a lot smarter than me, and not scared of nothin'. Not even old Jabril."
"So why'd she stay? I mean, it sounds as if she pretty much came and went as she pleased. So why come back at all?"
"Well, he has her sister, right?” Kelli said, as if it were obvious. “I mean, Liz was afraid what he'd do to Mirabelle if she left."
"Why now then?"
Kelli shrugged, avoiding Cyn's gaze. Her eyes darted around the room, coming to rest on the small, battered desk. “Liz sweet-talked a couple of the daytime guards at the front gate, you know. So they wouldn't report her. She's pretty. Did they show you a picture?"
Cyn realized with chagrin that, in fact, no one had given her any physical description of the girl, and she'd been so distracted by Jabril's games that she'd never thought to ask. Real professional, Cyn. On the other hand, the omission lent credence to her belief that they'd hired someone else to do the actual looking. She should have been insulted that her only value was as an irritant to Raphael, but mostly she was amused. They had no idea how irritating she could be. “No, no picture. Does she look like Mirabelle?"
Kelli snorted. “Who knows? Maybe once upon a time, but who can tell now?” She walked over to the desk and pulled open a drawer, sliding her hand all the way to the back and emerging with a couple of bent photos. “This is Liz,” she handed them to Cyn, pointing.
Kelli was right. Elizabeth Hawthorn was pretty. More than pretty. A little too thin for her height, she had long, honey-blond hair, big eyes and a Texas beauty queen smile. In the picture, she was wearing tattered blue jeans that rode well below the glitter of a gold ring in her belly button and a sleeveless tank that revealed far more skin than Jabril would have liked. A loose necklace of some sort completed the outfit, the kind of thing you'd buy from a street vendor of genuine native art. She was leaning against a tall, skinny kid with broad shoulders that were all bone and sinew, as if he hadn't grown into his body yet, or maybe he just didn't get enough regular meals. Given the state of his clothing and hair, Cyn tended toward the latter explanation. “Who's the guy?” she asked Kelli.
"That's Jamie. He and Liz are pretty tight."
"Tight as in..."
"Doin’ it."
"Any chance she's with Jamie?"
Kelli thought about it. “Maybe. But I don't know.” Voices echoed suddenly down the hall and she darted a guilty look at the door. “Look, I've got to go. Can you meet me tomorrow, during the day? The Children's Museum. You know where that is?"
"I'll find it."
"Make it afternoon, I work late here tonight, so like two o'clock. Now I gotta get back to that silver, or I'm not gonna have a day off at all.” She started out of the room, but Cyn stopped her.
"Thanks, Kelli."
Kelli nodded. “Tomorrow at two. I'll be there."
Cyn spent a few more minutes in Liz's room, going through the desk, checking the closet, looking for some indication Liz had planned to be gone awhile. It seemed likely the girl had run, but Cyn didn't want to rule anything out. Not yet. She stood from looking under the bed, brushing dust and lint off the knees of her black pants. “So much for good housekeeping, Mrs. Peach."
With a final look around, she left, closing the door behind her.
Mirabelle was leaning against the wall right outside the kitchen door. There were few lights this far from the main house and Cyn could barely see the young woman.
"I'm pretty much done here,” Cyn said.
Mirabelle straightened and held out a piece of folded, white paper. “Mrs. Peach left this for you. It's the numbers you wanted, for Liz's tutor and the caseworker."
"Do you know her?"
"Mrs. Peach?"
Cyn gave her a little smile. “No. I mean the caseworker."
"Oh! Oh, of course. What an idiot.” She flipped open the paper and looked at the name. “Ramona Hewitt. Sure, I remember her. I'm surprised she's still around. I didn't think any of them lasted that long. It's an awful job.” She was quiet for the space of two breaths. “Mrs. Hewitt cared, though. I really think she did."
"I'll give her a call tomorrow. I'll tell her you said, ‘hi,’ okay?"
"Sure.” Mirabelle nodded. “I'll walk you back to the house, if you're ready. Although the car's probably waiting for you by now, if you want to leave. I mean, if you don't need to see Lord Jabril before you go."
Jabril hadn't seemed too eager to spend anymore time with Cyn tonight. And she certainly had no burning desire to see him. Ever again. “I think I'll call it a night, so the car it is. Thanks."
As they rounded the front of the house, Cyn pulled her coat tight against a slap of wind. “Is it always this cold in Houston?"
Mirabelle smiled. “Not usually, no. We're having a cold spell."
