Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [88]
All behind us now, Genna reminded herself.
Then again, for Julianne, perhaps the worst still lay ahead. How to convince this child that her beloved father was a kidnapper and a liar, not to mention a conspirator in a scheme that sent her friends into slavery of the most debauched sort? That he’d told his worst lie to her?
And why now, Genna wondered, would Julianne believe the truth, told to her by a stranger?
“Why are we on a plane to go home? We can go in the car. . . .” Julianne sat all the way up and looked out the window. “Where is my daddy?”
Genna exchanged an anxious glance with Jayne, then said, “Julianne, there’s something we need to talk about. . . .”
The girl’s head turned toward her.
“Why did you call me that?” The look on her face was total shock. “My name is Rebecca. Rebecca West.”
“No, honey, I think you know that’s not true,” Genna said in her softest voice. “Think. Think hard . . .”
“My name is Rebecca. I don’t know why you called me . . . that other name. I’m Rebecca,” she insisted, her face white, her fingers clutching the arms of her seat.
“Do you remember when your father first started calling you Rebecca?” Jayne asked gently.
Julianne stared at her.
“It was when you were five, do you remember?” Genna tried to take one of the girl’s trembling hands, but Julianne pulled them out of reach.
Genna looked up at Jayne, who understood. The girl felt double-teamed. Without another word, Jayne walked to the front of the cabin.
“Do you remember when your father first told you that he wanted to call you Rebecca?” Genna asked again.
Slowly, Julianne nodded her head.
“Did he tell you why?”
She nodded again. “Because my mommy had named me . . . the other name. And my mommy died and went to heaven and took my name with her. So I had to have a new name.”
Genna closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly shut to close out the girl’s pain.
“Do you remember when you were called Julianne?”
She stared at Genna, then out the window. When her eyes returned to Genna’s face, she whispered in the voice of a very small child, “I’m not supposed to. Daddy said it would make us both too sad to think about Mommy, so I’m not supposed to remember her. I’m not supposed to remember being . . .” She could not bring herself to speak the name.
“Do you remember your mother, Julianne?” Genna asked.
Another nod of the head. “Don’t tell my father.”
“I won’t, sweetheart.” Genna turned her seat around to face Julianne, wondering how she would get out the words she knew she had to say. She wished this hadn’t come up until they’d landed. Surely Annie would know the best thing to say. Genna had only her instincts to guide her, and she wasn’t sure how good they were. “But there is something I need to tell you.”
Looking wounded and scared, Julianne waited.
“Your mother . . .”
Tell her the truth, Annie’s words rang in Genna’s ears. Don’t make the situation worse by telling her more lies. Whatever she asks, you must tell her the truth.
Easy for you to say, McCall, since you’re not the one who has to break the news.
“Your mother didn’t die, Julianne.”
The girl made no reply, but simply stared as if Genna spoke in a foreign tongue.
“Julianne, did you understand what I said?”
“Why are you lying, Miss Ruth?” Julianne’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you lying to me?”
“I’m not lying, honey. And my name isn’t really Miss Ruth. It’s Genna. Genna Snow. I’m with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and I was sent to Reverend Prescott’s compound to find you, and to bring you