Close to Destiny (A Magical Love Story)

Chapter 67

May 30, an early morning hour

Back to The Grand East Hotel. I'd left a message on Gwen's phone, my only point of contact with her. Would she respond? Only if she believed I had a sudden change of heart and was interested in exhibiting in her next show. I wasn't optimistic though: Gwen wasn't that naïve.

Maybe I could contact her through Will or Dr. Bell... No, I was being ridiculous. Even if I was able to reach her, I couldn't force her to explain the hotel's ownership to me. And what difference would it make anyway? I couldn't prove that Gwen or a member of the Taylor family had anything to do with Audrey's death. Charlotte had accepted her sister's fate. I had to do the same. I promised myself I wouldn't give Gwen or any of her secrets one more thought.

My night was a sleepless one. I lay there, immobilized in bed. Waiting. Waiting for Destiny to whisk me off to another party. But she never came. Waiting for Zachary Taylor to slide into my mind and offer me a glass of champagne. But he never showed up either.

It was over. I would never see them again. I convinced myself of this and was half relieved and half distraught. A strange combination, but entirely possible.

My only reminder of Zachary Taylor would be the earrings still planted firmly in my earlobes, and the hat, carefully wrapped in the dusty shopping bag. And my emotional heritage, from a woman named Victoria Moss.

I got up and ran through the 3 a.m. darkness to the bathroom, turned on the lights and looked into my panicked eyes. Who was this Victoria Moss? Why couldn't I feel closer to her if she was a part of me? Everything felt like an illusion, and then all of a sudden, it felt completely real.

The main question was: Why had Zachary Taylor told me Victoria's last name was Moss? What more could I learn about her or Jonathan after all of the information he and Destiny had given me? I stared into my dilated pupils for I don't know how long until I realized I had to call Charlotte Moss as soon as the clock struck a decent hour. That was why Zachary Taylor had given me the clue. Charlotte must have known something about Victoria that only she could reveal.

Charlotte Moss opened the door—physically and figuratively. She invited me to sit on the now-familiar chair facing the half-open window that always let an unpleasant draft into the little sitting room. She handed me the now-familiar cup brimming with familiar tea and curled up in a corner of the couch to listen to what I had convinced her was an urgent matter.

And, with her large, curious eyes studying me, I hesitated. I hadn't thought of how I would explain this convoluted story to someone who obviously wouldn't believe it. Of course, that had been my situation with Blanche, but she was my sister. I knew she wouldn't throw me out the door or have me locked up.

"What's happened, Katherine?" Charlotte asked, as usual knitting her brow. "Is this about my sister again? Or Gwen Garnier and the hotel?"

"Not really," I began, setting down my cup and taking a deep breath. "At least not directly. It's about the Moss family and something Destiny told me."

"This is about Victoria Moss, isn't it?" she said.

I looked at her in surprise, not knowing how to continue.

"I told you I don't believe the rubbish Destiny and Audrey used to throw around, and I meant it, but they would tell me their stories anyway."

"What did they tell you about Victoria?" I asked, my voice nothing more than a whisper. I trembled and Charlotte reached over to shut the window.

"They told me they found her in the form of an American woman named Katherine."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew about me... being involved in this?"

"Because I don't believe it. I let them go on with their silliness, and I certainly don't have anything against you for believing their stories. We each have a right to our thoughts and opinions. I simply never wanted to get involved and wasn't about to start after meeting you."

She shook her head and sighed.

"I'm not like those in our family who thought Destiny and my sister were crazy. They had their reasons for their beliefs, as we all do. But that's that."

I took a small sip of the tea that had turned lukewarm. Charlotte refilled our cups from the steaming pot and studied me as if weighing her options.

"What is it?" I asked. "Tell me."

She hesitated and then stood up.

"Follow me. I have something I think I should give to you."

She led me up a narrow flight of stairs and into a tiny, pale-pink room crowded with a desk and computer, bookshelves, a loveseat, a chest of drawers and a heap of un-ironed laundry.

"Please excuse the mess," she said, "but I rarely invite visitors up here."

She opened the bottom drawer, fished around toward the back and pulled out a tiny leather-bound book.

"Take this," she said, handing it to me. "It's Victoria's diary."

It was as if the blood had drained from my body as I touched the cover, turned a yellowed page and glanced at the narrow, faded script. I felt dizzy, but using all of the mental power I could muster, I fought the physical urge to faint.

"You don't have to..."

"It's best if you keep it," Charlotte said, putting a hand on my arm. "Really. I've never shown it to anyone, although Destiny and my sister knew I had it and didn't want to give it to them. Maybe I was wrong, but I didn't want to encourage this obsession of theirs."

"But why are you giving this to me if you don't believe?"

"Because I know that you do."

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