exactly. I've certainly lived more peaceful lifetimes. . . but I'm fairly certain I lived them as an only child."
I li.11. AVICAVUGI4
Mrs. Lippincott smiled. "I understand. I have three munger sisters of my own."
Several of the contestants walked through the galLery,
snickering, giggling, excited and as happy as only a group of carefree teenagers could be. As they passed 3avarmah and Mrs. Lippincott, the older woman watched hem with a look akin to resentment on her face.
"What a waste," she said. "All that beauty, health, and nergy squandered on the young. They have no idea low fleeting all of those gifts are. If they did, they would mjoy this period of their lives so much more."
Savannah nodded. "How true."
"Don't you envy them. . . their youth?"
Savannah thought for a moment. "Not really. Along with the beauty and energy goes a lot of inexperience
trid naivete. I wouldn't be that young and stupid again or anything in the world. Those life lessons were too lard-earned to be given away."
Marion Lippincott quirked one eyebrow. Savannah ;ot the distinct impression that she wasn't accustomed
being contradicted. "Oh? May I ask how old you are, ;avannah?"
"I'm in my early forties."
"Ah . that explains it. Check back with me in tround twenty years, and we'll see how you feel about he subject then."
Savannah chuckled. "You may be right. By the way, vIrs. Lippincott, I was going to ask you about one of rour girls . . . a Barbara or Barbie--"
A horrible, terrified scream cut through the room. Savannah swallowed her words and nearly her heart. [he sound had come from the direction of the guest
louse, the same direction that Atlanta had walked just noments ago. And somewhere in the recesses of her
bk./UK CiKAYES 1U7
bk./UK UK/UTZ 1U /
mind, Savannah knew--with sickening conviction-- that it was her little sister who had screamed.
"Oh, my God. . . . ," she whispered. But she was already running, with Ryan at her side, her gun in her hand. . . and Mrs. Lippincott trailing somewhere behind.
Chapter
Savw:nnah and Ryan nearly collided with Atlanta, who
racing down the hall, running away from her room. Thankful to see the kid in one piece, Savannah holstered her Beretta and held out her arms. Atlanta flew into them, sobbing.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Savannah asked, trying to peel her sister off so that she could check her for injuries.
"What's wrong?"
"Was it you who screamed, Atlanta?" Ryan asked. He still had his gun drawn, but was holding it behind his thigh and out of sight
Atlanta nodded vigorously and tried to squeak out a
couple of words, but she was crying too hard.
Mrs. Lippincott came running up behind them, followed by half a dozen of the staff members. Excited and alarmed, they were all trying to talk at once.
. .
"What happened?" Mrs. Lippincott demanded. "What's going on here, and why are you crying, Ms. Reid?"
Savannah held up one hand in a manner that clearly
said, "Back off."
"Wait there please," she said. "Let us take care of this for the moment."
Mrs. Lippincott seemed to get the message, and she took a couple of steps backward. "Okay, okay," she said to the staff, "quiet down. Everybody be calm while they figure this out."
Savannah put her hands on Atlanta's shoulders and
gently shook her. "Come on, honey, and take a couple of deep breaths. Do it. In. Out. That's it. Now tell me what's wrong."
Atlanta shivered, turned, and pointed to the door of her room, which was half-open. "In there," she said, "on the bed."
Ryan hurried on down the hall, reaching the room just before Savannah. They positioned themselves on either side of the door, nodded to each other, and Ryan shoved it the rest of the way open with his foot, his gun lifted and ready.
After a quick glance, they charged into the room. Expecting the worst--whenever that might be Savannah had also drawn her Beretta. But the room was vacant.
"What is that?" Savannah said. "What's the problem that--"
She
I li.11. AVICAVUGI4
Mrs. Lippincott smiled. "I understand. I have three munger sisters of my own."
Several of the contestants walked through the galLery,
snickering, giggling, excited and as happy as only a group of carefree teenagers could be. As they passed 3avarmah and Mrs. Lippincott, the older woman watched hem with a look akin to resentment on her face.
"What a waste," she said. "All that beauty, health, and nergy squandered on the young. They have no idea low fleeting all of those gifts are. If they did, they would mjoy this period of their lives so much more."
Savannah nodded. "How true."
"Don't you envy them. . . their youth?"
Savannah thought for a moment. "Not really. Along with the beauty and energy goes a lot of inexperience
trid naivete. I wouldn't be that young and stupid again or anything in the world. Those life lessons were too lard-earned to be given away."
Marion Lippincott quirked one eyebrow. Savannah ;ot the distinct impression that she wasn't accustomed
being contradicted. "Oh? May I ask how old you are, ;avannah?"
"I'm in my early forties."
"Ah . that explains it. Check back with me in tround twenty years, and we'll see how you feel about he subject then."
Savannah chuckled. "You may be right. By the way, vIrs. Lippincott, I was going to ask you about one of rour girls . . . a Barbara or Barbie--"
A horrible, terrified scream cut through the room. Savannah swallowed her words and nearly her heart. [he sound had come from the direction of the guest
louse, the same direction that Atlanta had walked just noments ago. And somewhere in the recesses of her
bk./UK CiKAYES 1U7
bk./UK UK/UTZ 1U /
mind, Savannah knew--with sickening conviction-- that it was her little sister who had screamed.
"Oh, my God. . . . ," she whispered. But she was already running, with Ryan at her side, her gun in her hand. . . and Mrs. Lippincott trailing somewhere behind.
Chapter
Savw:nnah and Ryan nearly collided with Atlanta, who
racing down the hall, running away from her room. Thankful to see the kid in one piece, Savannah holstered her Beretta and held out her arms. Atlanta flew into them, sobbing.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Savannah asked, trying to peel her sister off so that she could check her for injuries.
"What's wrong?"
"Was it you who screamed, Atlanta?" Ryan asked. He still had his gun drawn, but was holding it behind his thigh and out of sight
Atlanta nodded vigorously and tried to squeak out a
couple of words, but she was crying too hard.
Mrs. Lippincott came running up behind them, followed by half a dozen of the staff members. Excited and alarmed, they were all trying to talk at once.
. .
"What happened?" Mrs. Lippincott demanded. "What's going on here, and why are you crying, Ms. Reid?"
Savannah held up one hand in a manner that clearly
said, "Back off."
"Wait there please," she said. "Let us take care of this for the moment."
Mrs. Lippincott seemed to get the message, and she took a couple of steps backward. "Okay, okay," she said to the staff, "quiet down. Everybody be calm while they figure this out."
Savannah put her hands on Atlanta's shoulders and
gently shook her. "Come on, honey, and take a couple of deep breaths. Do it. In. Out. That's it. Now tell me what's wrong."
Atlanta shivered, turned, and pointed to the door of her room, which was half-open. "In there," she said, "on the bed."
Ryan hurried on down the hall, reaching the room just before Savannah. They positioned themselves on either side of the door, nodded to each other, and Ryan shoved it the rest of the way open with his foot, his gun lifted and ready.
After a quick glance, they charged into the room. Expecting the worst--whenever that might be Savannah had also drawn her Beretta. But the room was vacant.
"What is that?" Savannah said. "What's the problem that--"
She
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