that! Reve scolded herself. You 're playing right into Genny's hands by letting your imagination play tricks on you.
"Yes, I believe you and Reve are twin sisters," Genny said. "I have no doubt about it."
"That's good enough for me." Jazzy looked at Reve as if she expected her to respond by grabbing her, proclaiming them sisters and hugging her. Instead Reve stiffened her spine and sat up straighter in her chair.
"I believe I prefer to wait for the DNA test results." Reve hated that she'd been unable to mask the coolness in her voice, but she simply could not accept some hillbilly psychic's sixth sense.
Jazzy glared at Reve, then fixed her gaze on Genny. "You said that was the good part of your vision. What was the bad part?"
Genny hesitated, as if she didn't want to tell them more. Was her hesitancy real or was it a way to dramatize the moment? Reve wondered. She could not-would not-take Genny's psychic abilities at face value.
"I sensed evil." Genny's voice barely rose above a whisper. "And danger."
"Danger for Reve and me?"
"I'm not sure. But… y'all must be very careful."
"This is nonsense!" Reve shot out of her chair.
"Why must you be such an uptight, unfeeling, unhappy bitch?" Jazzy stood and faced her. "Believe me, I'm having as much trouble accepting our being sisters as you are. For all your millions and hoity-toity ways, you're no grand prize yourself, you know."
Reve felt as if she'd been slapped. Taken back by Jazzy's outburst, she stared at her lo-ok-alike, then smiled. "You're quite right. I'm not a grand prize, am I? I'm sure you'd never have chosen me to be your sister. I'm rich, well-educated, socially prominent and yet I don't have one single close friend. And not one man has ever cared about me just for me, whereas men seem to fall at your feet."
"Well, well, well." Jazzy laughed. "You are human after all."
"Oh, yes, only too human." Reve turned her gaze on Genny. "I don't believe in hocus-pocus stuff. But I apologize if I've been rude. And if letting you do a reading, as Jazzy calls it, will make her happy, then by all means-"
"You are not what you seem," Genny said, her dark eyes pinning Reve with their intensity. "You and Jazzy are two halves of a whole, and very soon both of you will begin sensing your oneness."
Reve wasn't sure how to react. Genny wasn't telling her anything that couldn't be true about any set of identical twins. But the way Genny stared at her, as if she could see beyond her body and into her spirit, unnerved Reve.
"You're very lonely," Genny said. "That loneliness will soon end. I see you surrounded by family. You will never be lonely again."
CHAPTER 5
The Cherokee Country Club was just barely within the city limits of Cherokee Pointe.
The two-story frame Federal-style house had once been home to a wealthy banker who'd lost a fortune in the Crash of 1929 and shot himself in one of the upstairs bedrooms. His widow had taken her children and returned home to Mississippi several years later, letting the house go for back taxes. Farlan MacKinnon's father had purchased the house and surrounding twenty acres for a song. He'd been a young husband with a wife growing increasingly unhappy living with her in-laws, so he'd packed up his wife and two young sons and moved into the old Watley house in 1936. Farlan supposed that was the reason he felt so at home here, because he'd lived in this house as a boy, before he'd been shipped off to military school in Chattanooga.
When, over forty years ago, the most prominent citizens in the county had decided they needed a country club, Farlan had offered this house, which by then had been empty for a good many years, except for a few odds and ends of furniture his mother had left when she'd run off. Farlan had been eighteen at the time of his mother's great escape and had been preparing to enter college that fall. Moonshiners used to run rampant in the hills, and that summer the federal agents had swarmed the county in search of
"Yes, I believe you and Reve are twin sisters," Genny said. "I have no doubt about it."
"That's good enough for me." Jazzy looked at Reve as if she expected her to respond by grabbing her, proclaiming them sisters and hugging her. Instead Reve stiffened her spine and sat up straighter in her chair.
"I believe I prefer to wait for the DNA test results." Reve hated that she'd been unable to mask the coolness in her voice, but she simply could not accept some hillbilly psychic's sixth sense.
Jazzy glared at Reve, then fixed her gaze on Genny. "You said that was the good part of your vision. What was the bad part?"
Genny hesitated, as if she didn't want to tell them more. Was her hesitancy real or was it a way to dramatize the moment? Reve wondered. She could not-would not-take Genny's psychic abilities at face value.
"I sensed evil." Genny's voice barely rose above a whisper. "And danger."
"Danger for Reve and me?"
"I'm not sure. But… y'all must be very careful."
"This is nonsense!" Reve shot out of her chair.
"Why must you be such an uptight, unfeeling, unhappy bitch?" Jazzy stood and faced her. "Believe me, I'm having as much trouble accepting our being sisters as you are. For all your millions and hoity-toity ways, you're no grand prize yourself, you know."
Reve felt as if she'd been slapped. Taken back by Jazzy's outburst, she stared at her lo-ok-alike, then smiled. "You're quite right. I'm not a grand prize, am I? I'm sure you'd never have chosen me to be your sister. I'm rich, well-educated, socially prominent and yet I don't have one single close friend. And not one man has ever cared about me just for me, whereas men seem to fall at your feet."
"Well, well, well." Jazzy laughed. "You are human after all."
"Oh, yes, only too human." Reve turned her gaze on Genny. "I don't believe in hocus-pocus stuff. But I apologize if I've been rude. And if letting you do a reading, as Jazzy calls it, will make her happy, then by all means-"
"You are not what you seem," Genny said, her dark eyes pinning Reve with their intensity. "You and Jazzy are two halves of a whole, and very soon both of you will begin sensing your oneness."
Reve wasn't sure how to react. Genny wasn't telling her anything that couldn't be true about any set of identical twins. But the way Genny stared at her, as if she could see beyond her body and into her spirit, unnerved Reve.
"You're very lonely," Genny said. "That loneliness will soon end. I see you surrounded by family. You will never be lonely again."
CHAPTER 5
The Cherokee Country Club was just barely within the city limits of Cherokee Pointe.
The two-story frame Federal-style house had once been home to a wealthy banker who'd lost a fortune in the Crash of 1929 and shot himself in one of the upstairs bedrooms. His widow had taken her children and returned home to Mississippi several years later, letting the house go for back taxes. Farlan MacKinnon's father had purchased the house and surrounding twenty acres for a song. He'd been a young husband with a wife growing increasingly unhappy living with her in-laws, so he'd packed up his wife and two young sons and moved into the old Watley house in 1936. Farlan supposed that was the reason he felt so at home here, because he'd lived in this house as a boy, before he'd been shipped off to military school in Chattanooga.
When, over forty years ago, the most prominent citizens in the county had decided they needed a country club, Farlan had offered this house, which by then had been empty for a good many years, except for a few odds and ends of furniture his mother had left when she'd run off. Farlan had been eighteen at the time of his mother's great escape and had been preparing to enter college that fall. Moonshiners used to run rampant in the hills, and that summer the federal agents had swarmed the county in search of
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