A long moment went by while MacKinnon considered this. Finally, she said, “All right. We’ll look up his office number. And I’ll . . . I’ll call him. But let me do it from your phone. I don’t want him to know my number.”
Livia shook her head. She understood the woman knew better, and at this point was just protesting as a way of proving to herself that she was in control of at least some of what was suddenly happening to her, no matter how trivial.
“That won’t work. It would be too easy for him to check my number, and figure out something’s wrong with your story. Besides, if he’s sent you baby gifts, he already knows your number. Or could easily get it.”
There was a pause while MacKinnon considered this. Then she said, “I just need a minute.”
“Of course,” Livia said. This woman was about to face a monster from her childhood. A minute would be the least she’d need.
MacKinnon stepped away. Livia heard a door open, then close. She had a feeling the woman needed to be with the dog. It didn’t surprise her. One of the victim support services she worked with had a rescue dog, a shepherd-mastiff mix named Argus, and Livia had never seen an abused child emerge from a scarred shell the way some of the support kids did when they spent time with that devoted animal. Livia thought it had something to do with recognizing the existence of a creature at once powerful and yet incapable of hurting you—incapable of doing anything other than loving and protecting you. She sensed that kind of bond between MacKinnon and the shepherd.
And indeed, when she returned a few minutes later, the dog was with her. It sat alongside her at the table while she did an Internet search on her phone.
“Okay,” MacKinnon said, nodding. “Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, summoning her courage like someone about to leap from a cliff into dark waters.
She input the number. There was a pause, then she said, “Yes, hello. My name is Rebecca MacKinnon, formerly Becky Lone. Senator Lone’s sister. It’s urgent that I speak with him.”
Livia was impressed by the confidence in her tone. The woman had found her composure, at least for the moment.
There was a pause, then, “I don’t have his mobile phone number. We haven’t been in touch in quite some time. But it’s urgent that I speak with him now.”
Another pause, then, “Yes, please give him this number. If you’re thinking this is some sort of prank, it isn’t. When you tell him it’s Becky and that it’s urgent, I assure you he’ll want to call me immediately. If you wait to deliver the message, you’ll be making a mistake.”
She clicked off.
Livia looked at her. “You okay?”
MacKinnon nodded but said nothing. Then she started to shake. She reached for the dog. It whimpered and licked her hand.
“I’m sorry,” Livia said. “I can imagine what this is stirring up.”
MacKinnon smiled grimly. “Well. I think you can more than imagine.”
“That’s true.”
MacKinnon stared out the window at the sparkling bay. “It never goes away, does it?”
Livia wished there were an answer to that. But there wasn’t.
A moment ticked by. MacKinnon said, “I don’t know if he’ll get back to me right away.”
“He will. If that receptionist is smart enough to get him the message promptly.”
“I hope so. Can you wait for a bit?”
Livia glanced at her watch. It had been close to an hour. Plenty of time still to get back to the airport, and there were dozens of nonstops to Seattle. She nodded and said, “Yes. Let’s see if he has a smart receptionist.”
MacKinnon left her phone on the table and made them another pot of tea. She looked tense, and to take the woman’s mind off her dread of confronting her brother, Livia said, “What’s the honey you’re using? It’s really good.”
In fact, it was good, though Livia didn’t expect anything would soon displace her affection for coffee with milk and turbinado sugar.
“Sonoma County Wildflower,” MacKinnon said. “I get it at the farmers’ market. Glad you like it. I’m afraid I’m a bit of an addict.”
“Well, I could see where that would be a danger. Wish they sold it in Seattle.”
MacKinnon returned to the table and they sat wordlessly for a moment, sipping the tea. Livia asked about the dog, her kids, life in San Francisco. Safe subjects. Comforting ones. She wasn’t sure if it was helping, but it was better than silence.
MacKinnon’s phone buzzed and the woman jumped. “Speakerphone,” Livia reminded her, leaning forward.
MacKinnon nodded and looked at the phone. And kept looking at it.
It buzzed again.
“Becky,” Livia said.
MacKinnon looked at her, her eyes wide, then at the phone again. Her mouth twitched and her expression wavered between fear and determination.
The phone buzzed again.
“Becky,” Livia said. “You can do this.”
MacKinnon nodded. She closed her eyes, and then opened them. And Livia could see the determination had won.
MacKinnon pressed the speaker button. “Hello.”