Persuasion by Martina Boone Page B

burden my family bears.”
    He spoke with such sincerity that Barrie couldn’t help believing what he said. And really, the choice was simple. If Obadiah took away the Beaufort gift, Eight would never need to know about the headaches and all the things his father had never told him. He would have his dream and the escape he had wanted all his life.
    He could choose to go play baseball. He could choose anything, or anyone.
    When you set someone free, they could choose to fly. But they could also choose to leave you.
    “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll help you. I’m not sure about the logistics, though. Even if I can get Cassie to agree, what about her family? Not to mention there are still ghost hunters and treasure hunters and reporters hanging around. Someone is going to see us and wonder what we’re doing. I can’t get over there unless Eight takes me—I don’t have a boat or a driver’s license—”
    “I already told you to leave Eight Beaufort out of it.” Obadiah leaned forward, his nostrils flaring with a sudden intake of breath. “Tell no one about our bargain, or I’ll consider it the same as if you refused. As for the boat, I’ll take care of that and any unwanted attention. You just find a way to get the Colesworth girl to cooperate, or I will do it less pleasantly. And don’t wait too long to call me.”
    “Call you how?” Barrie asked, thinking of the way he had appeared out of the blue.
    He pointed toward her fist in answer, and something cold and hard dug into her palm. The green disk was back. At the center of it, the raven ruffled his feathers and blinked up at her, and she let go as if he’d pecked her skin. The disk clattered to the gravel. The raven stilled, became an etched image and nothing more.
    Barrie raised her eyes back to Obadiah. “What does that have to do with calling you?”
    “Pick it up.” He lifted his brows and regarded her with clear amusement.
    She used two fingers to lift the disk, and found a phone number etched in gold on the other side. A laugh escaped her; she couldn’t help it. In one way, a phone number didn’t seem at all like Obadiah, but on the other hand, it hinted at a sense of humor.
    When she looked up again, Obadiah was gone.
    This time, though, she remembered all too clearly that he’d been there.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Pru wasn’t in the kitchen when Barrie rushed through the door. That relieved Barrie only slightly more than it disappointed her. She couldn’t mention Obadiah, but there was no alternative to confessing what she’d done at Cassie’s hearing.
    After checking the butler’s pantry, she peered into the silent tearoom and found that empty, too. The shining glass of the windows caught the sunlight, but fallen petals and a dusting of pollen lay scattered around the cut-glass bowls on the starched white tablecloths, as if Pru hadn’t had the heart to remove the dying flowers yet.
    Barrie turned away. She hastened through the kitchen and out into the corridor, where the door swinging shut behind her gave a deep and echoing groan.
    “Is that you, Barrie? I’m in the library.” Pru’s voice drifted toward her.
    Pausing on the threshold of the room a few moments later, Barrie found her aunt rifling through the contents of several drawers, which appeared to have been emptied onto the surface of the desk.
    “Are you looking for something in particular?” Barrie asked. “Maybe I could help.”
    “You haven’t seen the keys that were in the top drawer here, have you?” Curled wisps of Pru’s hair had escaped her ponytail, and she brushed a hand back distractedly to smooth it. “I’ve arranged for a local auction company to come out to take what you and I sorted from the attic, along with the furniture that we’re going to replace with Lula’s pieces that the movers are bringing out from California. But there are bound to be things on the trucks that we won’t have room to keep. Walking past the stable building last