Down the Rabbit Hole

“Ha! Poor Molly. I promise you, I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’ll explain everything later, but right now I have to find Max.” She stopped short. “Oh! I have it! I’m brilliant! Your costumes are Roger and Jessica Rabbit—goofy and gorgeous. Max should be Dick Tracy—intelligent, steadfast and fearless. And I’ll be his Tess Trueheart—because I am.”

FALLEN

R. C. RYAN

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For all who believe.

And for Tom, who believed in me always.

PROLOGUE

NEW YORK, 1990

“Highlands?” The four-year-old girl lifted wide, trusting eyes to her grandmother. “Why do they call it that, Gram?”

“It is high country, and very rugged. It’s where my ancestors in Scotland lived, my darling. It’s also wild and grand and beautiful.”

“I love your story about the Beast of the Highlands. Why was he called that?”

“A spell had been cast upon him. At the dawn of each new moon the man was turned into a huge, wild stag, with great, punishing antlers. No one ever saw the creature, though many claimed to have heard his dangerous hooves pounding the earth as he raced through their villages. Of course, it was all a myth.” The old woman smiled. “Now, to finish the story. Thanks to the wonder of magic, the beast was once more turned into a handsome man who embraced the lovely woman who saved him, and they lived happily ever after.” Evelyn Campbell’s voice lowered to a purr as she glanced down to see her little granddaughter’s eyes closing.

As she started to get up, little Beth’s hand shot out, stopping her. “More, Gram. Did the beast ever return?”

“No more tonight, my darling. It’s time for dreamland.”

“Do you think Mommy and Daddy are living happily ever after in heaven?”

The simple question had the old woman blinking back a rush of scalding tears. The loss of her son and his wife on the slick, curving highway in California was a hole in her heart that would never close. “I’m sure of it, love.”

“When I grow up I’m going to tame a beast who is really a handsome prince and we’ll live happily ever after like Mommy and Daddy.”

Evelyn bent over to kiss her granddaughter, looking like a tiny princess in the pretty canopied bed. “That is my hope for you, too. But remember, darling girl, that handsome isn’t what matters. He must have a good heart.”

“How will I know if his heart is good?”

“As we get to know people, they reveal their true selves. Our job is to listen and learn all we can, and then we must trust our own heart.”

“I will, Gram. I promise. ’Night.”

“Good night, my darling Beth.”

“I love the stories you make up, Gram.”

The old woman stood a moment beside the bed, watching as her granddaughter drifted into sleep.

If only she could do the same. But sleep, as well as peace of mind, had eluded her since the accident and the arrival of her precious grandchild.

To add to her pain, just today the doctor had confirmed the dreadful diagnosis, telling her she had little time left. And when she was gone, her son’s last wish would be denied.

He had left behind a letter, written shortly after the birth of his child, asking that his mother assume custody of Beth should anything happen to him and his wife. He had specifically requested that his daughter never fall into the hands of his sister, Darda, with whom he’d had an explosive relationship his entire life.

Richard had been a loyal, loving son. An athlete who also embraced academics. A lawyer who championed the down-and-out. His wife, Cybil, had supported his causes and had worked tirelessly alongside him in the law firm that carried their name.

Darda, on the other hand, was the pampered darling of her father and his first wife. From an early age she’d shown a tendency toward cruelty, and had learned how to wrap her weak father around her finger and obtain her every wish. And, oh, the exotic, outrageous, selfish things she’d wished for. Despite Evelyn’s repeated pleas to her husband to stop giving in to his daughter’s demands, he had adamantly refused. It had brought a painful end to their marriage, and Darda had grown up a spoiled, self-absorbed, bitter young woman.

Evelyn Campbell sighed as she walked from the room. When her illness became too advanced to care for little Beth, she feared what would happen to this sweet, innocent child, since there was no other family member to care for her. She couldn’t bring herself to consider offering her only grandchild up for adoption. There seemed to her only one road left open. As distant as they had become, Darda was all the family left to her.