Read Blood Debt Page 7

I went to my room and had a strange feeling I couldn’t shake. Instead of staring at the ceiling after having taken a six hour nap, I thought I’d check in with Daniel. He picked up on the first ring.

  “It took you long enough! I’ve been waiting for you to call for hours!”

  “Awww, that’s so sweet. Are you worried about me?”

  “No, what’s there to worry about? You only flew all the way across the country to meet some guy your mom had sex with once and hadn’t talked to again your whole life. Then those texts you sent? What the hell?”

  “Geeze, cluck or something – you’re acting like an old mother hen.”

  His voice softened when he said, “I was worried, okay? So, how is he, anyway? Is he strange or something?”

  “No. . .I mean, I only talked to him for a little while. He seems okay. I also happen to have five half brothers.”

  “You texted me that much. What’re they like?”

  “They’re like you, but handsome. I wish you could meet them. They took me out on the ocean today.”

  “You’re hysterical. A yacht, huh? Caviar, too?”

  “Gross! No, we just went for a bite to eat, then out on the water.”

  “Cami, be careful. You just met them and they wanted to take you out on the ocean. Did it ever cross your mind they could toss you in the ocean and no one would ever know?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the phone – I’m not sure why since there was no way he could see the expression I gave his picture staring back at me on the screen. I would never admit that that was why I sent him the text earlier. “Been watching too many serial killer shows again, Daniel? Why don’t you switch back to the Disney Channel?”

  “I’m serious, Cami, something isn’t right. I can feel it. You shouldn’t be there by yourself, and you shouldn’t go anywhere without telling someone where you’re at first.”

  He was right, but if I agreed with him, that would just make him double concerned. “Daniel, I’m not on spring break bar hopping in another country! I’m meeting relatives I didn’t know I had.”

  His voice lost any hint of humor it may have had, “Angela kept you from them for a reason, Cami. Be smart.”

  I didn’t want to admit that he was right, so I didn’t. “All right. If it’ll keep you from having a meltdown, I’ll text you whenever I go somewhere.”

  “I’m serious, Cami.”

  After I hung up with Daniel, I had a tough time finding sleep. If he could just meet them, he could tell me that everything would be fine. We’d been friends for as long as I knew what a friend was. Daniel thought like me, acted like me, most of the time we finished each other’s sentences. I wanted to believe my family was every bit as awesome as they appeared on the surface, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something just wasn’t right. Daniel was thousands of miles away, and he was feeling the same thing.

  The next morning I showered and dressed, tiptoeing down the hallway. I’m not sure why; I was still on west coast time, so it was after nine a.m. on the east coast. The house was quiet. It reminded me of a library rather than a home filled with eight people.

  As I peered into the kitchen, I found Brent sitting at the table looking at some papers. When he saw me enter, I saw his face light up, “Hey, I was just getting ready to write you a note. Glad you’re up!”

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “We’re supposed to go pick up your ‘Welcome to the family present’ from Mom and Dad, but I was going to go for a swim before it got too hot.”

  “I don’t need a present. Don’t let me hold you up.”

  “Get used to it. Dad likes to make money; Mom likes to spend it. You wanna join me for a swim?”

  “That’s a consistent theme. Will was giving Gretchen crap last night about her spending habits.” I thought about his offer. I loved swimming but had packed a little too quickly, “I didn’t bring a swim suit.”

  “Hmm, well, let’s shelf swimming for now and go pick up your gift.”

  “Brent, that’s okay. I’d really rather just hang out.”

  “You don’t even know what it is.”

  “Seriously, I’d rather not.”

  “Uh . . . sure, I’ll text Dad real quick and let him know there’s been a change of plans.”

  Brent put his phone down and looked back my way hopefully. My question was out before I even realized how rude it was, “So, when money’s no object, how do you keep yourself entertained?”

  “Entertained? You mean, what do I find fulfilling?”

  I didn’t want him to think that I thought he was shallow and hoped my question hadn’t offended him. “Yeah, are you a workaholic, a big time philanthropist, or what?”

  “I work, but it’s not that hard. Dad could do it all himself if he wanted to. I think he just keeps the five of us in the office for comic relief. I’ve never met a charity I didn’t like, but I don’t think that qualifies me as a philanthropist. I’m pretty simple.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “Uh . . . no. No girlfriends.”

  “Now or ever?”

  Brent looked like I had struck a nerve, “Ever.”

  “Oh, sorry.” From his reaction I figured he must bat for the other team, “Boyfriend?”

  This question made him laugh, “No, Camille, I’m not gay. I’m definitely heterosexual.”

  That didn’t make any sense. Brent was handsome—seriously handsome. He could give up his day job and be a model if he wanted to. He was really tall, deeply tanned, dark, with shaggy but perfectly trimmed hair, a smile that even Colgate would be envious of, and a cool personality. “You’re a rich, good-looking guy. Girls probably throw themselves at you.”

  “Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve run across a few that I thought were pretty incredible, but dating isn’t necessarily something . . . I mean, it’s not . . . you know.”

  “It’s not what?” I could see Brent had touched on something he desperately didn’t want to talk about.

  “I’ve just not found Miss Right.”

  “How are you going to find Miss Right, if you aren’t checking out Miss Right-Now?”

  “It’s just not a good idea.”

  “Uh, okay. If you want me to set you up or something, I have tons of single friends in California.”

  Brent’s face looked like he was actually contemplating my suggestion. “That would be beyond awesome, but I wouldn’t feel right about it. Enough about my love life, what about you?”

  “I told you yesterday, I had a boyfriend I broke up with a couple months ago. End of story.”

  “Your mother didn’t mind?”

  “Didn’t mind what?”

  “Did she introduce you two?”

  “Well, no. That would be weird.”

  “But, your mother was . . . I mean . . . you’re the same. She wouldn’t let you just date anyone.”

  “Brent, what are you talking about? My mom didn’t have a say in any of my boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends? You’ve dated more than one?” I could tell from Brent’s expression that he was surprised, but I wasn’t sure what he was so offended by. Maybe dating meant something different here?

  Gretchen stepped through the door at that moment, her voice full of volume, “Brent, I thought you were taking Camille to pick up her gift?” She leaned down and kissed his cheek and gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze.

  “Camille and I were just getting to know each other a little better. I texted Dad. He’s going to have it delivered.”

  “Your brothers are outside clearing the grove for this weekend. Why don’t you go give them a hand before it gets too hot?”

  I could see the relief on Brent’s face. He wasn’t at all comfortable with our conversation. “Sure, Mom. See you later, Camille.” Brent exited without another word. It was a strange conversation. I’d always been relatively attractive, not a supermodel, but why would he be surprised that I’d had boyfriends? He seemed surprised that anyone was interested i
n dating me. Talk about a bruise to the ego.

  “I can help, too, Gretchen.” As much fun as I’d had with them yesterday, I couldn’t wait to listen in on more of their stories.

  I stood up and was two steps away when Gretchen said, “You and I need to spend some time together. I think there are some things your mother would want you to know.”

  I felt a twinge of nervousness. It hadn’t been that long since my mother’s death, and I didn’t want to talk about her, not with anyone, but especially with Gretchen.

  Gretchen sensed my apprehension, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I can see your mother’s memories are still tender. There are some things she didn’t share with you that I think are important you know.”

  “You knew my mother?” I could feel my eyelids flex as my eyes widened.

  “No, Camille. I never met your mother, but I’m certain that she was wonderful.”

  “Gretchen, I . . . I appreciate it, but . . . I’m not ready to talk about her.”

  “How would you like to talk to her?”

  I froze. I felt a rush of heat shoot through my body. My heart skipped. “She died, Gretchen. I was there when it happened.”

  “Her body died, yes. But her spirit lives on. She’s with you now. She’s talking to you right this second, but you aren’t listening.” I froze. I didn’t know what kind of game Gretchen was playing, but I didn’t like it. They were a cult! I was right from the beginning. Gretchen thought she could talk to ghosts. How was I going to get out of here? No way was I getting sucked in.

  Chapter 7

  Camille Benning – Charleston, SC