Rebel with a Cause: The Pathfinder Series, #3

By Sheri L. Brown

The adventures of Claire Sinclair continue! After her delayed acceptance into college, Claire finds time to explore the world around her… and her spiritual world within. She falls in love with Declan, the dreamy yoga instructor, and celebrates life in Manhattan with her friends and family. Her vivid dreams continue, as well as her talks beyond the grave with Zia Regina.

Just as life begins to settle down, Claire is offered an opportunity to visit her extended family in Italy. The mystery Zia Regina created begins to unravel and Claire is swept up in the magic of the Italian lifestyle.

Meanwhile, back at home, Claire’s parents begin a new chapter in their marriage after a near tragedy, Rachel finds love on the Upper East Side, and Skylar is a breath away from being the new It Girl, breaking all the rules, to be a rebel with a cause.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outfox Digital Publishing
• Release date: Feb 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524298517

Book preview

1

Claire stared at the organized mess on Rachel’s dining room table before she got up and poured herself another cup of coffee. The time had come for her to get serious about answering the burning questions Zia had laid out before her, and according to Lulu, Rose’s psychic friend, Zia wanted Claire to perseverate despite the lengths she had gone through to hide her past. Claire wasn’t sure what she was looking for, other than wanting to know why her beloved great-aunt had shrouded parts of her life in a mystery.

Claire picked up the diamond and emerald cross and held it in the palm of her hand, saying a little prayer-slash-emphatic request to her guides, angels and anyone else on the other side who might listen to help her make sense of it all.

Rachel stepped off the elevator as Claire stood motionless, waiting for some kind of sign.

Hi, honey, are you all right?

Yeah, I’m fine, Rachel, I’m just a little overwhelmed with trying to solve this mystery. Maybe I should just move on and let the past be in the past, you know?

The kitchen lights flickered. Rachel and Claire stood still.

Or maybe not, Rachel chuckled.

Claire smiled, feeling momentarily reassured with yet another message, despite the daunting task Zia had laid out before her.

Okay, what do I have? Claire asked aloud, I have tons of diaries, the cross, the old key Mom found in the safe deposit box… old photos of strangers.

I’m thinking start with the diaries. What did Rose’s psychic friend tell you, any kind of hints or direction? Rachel asked as she sat down in the living room and turned on the television.

Claire wouldn’t have paid any attention to what her grandmother was doing, but Rachel rarely ever watched TV. It struck Claire as odd. Claire sighed and looked back at the table and picked up the diaries, deciding to sort them chronologically. A commercial for tours to Italy filled the television screen….

Okay, okay, I’m paying attention, Zia, Claire said aloud again.

Rachel turned the TV off.

It’s so funny, I’m not sure why I even turned that on, I never watch television.

Ask Zia, I’m sure she had something to do with it.

Rachel came back and stared at the table.

I think you need to be part detective and part adventurer, honey. Have fun with solving this mystery!

Claire looked at her grandmother, she wasn’t feeling enthused by the pep-talk as much as Rachel would have liked, "I’m supposed to go to Italy, Rachel. That’s all there is to it. Um, I think I have to go."

I think you do, too. I’ll call my travel agent.

"Wait. I have to read all this stuff. I don’t even know where I’m supposed to go. I don’t even know what I’m looking for."

Claire would have been feeling entirely overwhelmed, but the signs to reassure her kept coming. She attributed her heightened awareness to the subtle, etheric hints that were sometimes were not so subtle at all, to doing yoga with Declan and her meditations at home; working her way up to morning and night since her weekend visit to Rose’s. She was feeling calmer, more spiritually confident and connected… and definitely more aware of communications from the other side. Flickering lights, words from Zia and spontaneous travel commercials on TV had become the norm.

Claire felt special, in a sense, but it wasn’t coming from her ego. Her ego, in fact, had chimed in occasionally to tell her everything she was pursuing as of late was complete nonsense. She was amazed her logical, being-in-the-world, reality-based left brain tried so hard to put a damper on things, so Claire talked to herself out loud, more than usual, to explain to all parts of who she was, left-brain included, that everything was okay. She had it all under control. She would feed her mind the intellectual things it needed while she explored other realms beyond her body and three-dimensional reality. She’d be dubious, she thought, if someone told her they were hearing voices from someone who had died, but the messages from Zia came through loud and clear. She wouldn’t invite judgment from others, which meant being careful about who she told what to.

She did some research, as per Lulu’s suggestion, about trying to find her personal spirit guides, but they hadn’t yet come. She understood meditation would calm her monkey mind and in that quiet space she could ask her guides to reveal their names, but Claire decided to be patient. All this spiritual stuff was new to her, but she was sure everything would come to her in time. She had an entire lifetime to figure out what her soul wanted and needed. In the meantime, she was going to choose to experience everything that felt right, even if it took an awful lot of trust in the scheme of the Universe unfolding.

Why aren’t you at work, Rache? Claire decided on a new nickname for her grandmother without her permission.

As soon as the informal flow of words left her mouth, Claire knew she had crossed a line. Rachel had almost given Claire a disapproving look, but changed her mind midstream. Instead, she kindly explained the use of a nickname was indeed endearing, but it should be relegated to the apartment. She was old-school enough that the informality would undermine her position in the outside world.

Claire respected her for that without understanding it exactly. She wondered what kind of position in the outside world at this point in Rachel’s life could possibly be undermined.

"Look, I love the nickname honey, but out in the world, I’m Rachel Goldman, esquire or Judge Goldman or the honorable Judge Goldman… it’s adorable, Claire, I just have worked hard to create a persona over the last forty-something years and Rache isn’t part of that."

Claire laughed, I get it. I’m sure a time will come where I’ll cringe being called Clairebear in front of the wrong people.

"Good, well, I’m glad we understand each other, but I do like it. I sound twenty years younger… Rache."

So, speaking of all your titles, what’s going on with work?

I’m done. I mean, I still own a part of the firm, but my days as a lawyer and judge are over. It’s time to settle down into retirement, maybe travel and spend some time with Charles.

"Can you not work?"

Rachel chuckled, "I don’t know, honey. I’ve never not worked, but I have some fun projects up my sleeve and maybe I’ll join you in Italy one of these days."

Claire’s heart skipped a beat. She thought about going to Assisi with Declan or maybe going it alone. She certainly never entertained the idea of doing a trip with Rachel, but it piqued her interest. She could see herself sitting at a sidewalk café sipping lattes with her grandmother and people-watching.

Claire started compiling Zia’s letters in chronological order based on the postage stamp.

I forgot to tell you, one of the things the psychic said… or one of the things Zia said through the psychic, I guess I should say, is Zia knew the cross was real. She had it appraised at some point and it was worth like twenty grand. She actually wanted me to have that money.

When did she get it appraised, in 1950? Rachel joked.

I guess so, Claire laughed, or maybe Abigail is really wrong in her appraisal.

Hmmm, Claire heard Rachel say under her breath, I don’t think so, honey. Abigail is very well-informed. Well, you weren’t planning on selling it any time soon, so… we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Rachel’s phone chimed. Claire watched as she walked toward her bedroom. She was giggling. It must have been Charles.

"I guess men have that effect on all kinds of women," Claire said aloud.

She liked it when Rachel was giddy; she had spent so much of her professional life being serious.

Claire decided it was time to let her logical, left brain get to work. She grabbed her tablet from her bag and made an inventory of everything on the table. She picked up each of Zia’s journals to put them in order. The first journal was dated Febbraio 1950 while the last few journals in the series were simply dated by the year without any notation of the month… up through 1988. The letters Sarah had organized into a pile were dated a little later, beginning in 1952 and upon Claire’s first inspection, the letters stopped in the early part of 1992. Everything, of course, was written in Italian.

Feeling overwhelmed, Claire sat back on one of the dining room chairs and sighed. Her dabbling in the Italian language as a child in order to have casual conversations with Zia was not going to help her translate the tome of her Aunt’s life history or discover who the person was she had been corresponding with in Italy. It may have been more than one person, she thought.

Claire hopped on the Internet and searched for Italian translators in New York City. As soon as she clicked on one of the websites, a chat person on the other end asked if she could help. Claire explained the work she needed done and while most of her Aunt’s handwriting was still legible after all these years, some of the pages were notably worn. The person on the other end of the chat suggested she bring in what she wanted translated and they would give her an estimate.

Claire made an appointment for the following week. Her phone rang.

Hello? Claire said as she straightened the papers in front of her.

May I speak to Claire?

This is she.

I see you made an appointment for us to do some translating for you. We just had a cancellation if you can make it here today.

Claire beamed, Absolutely, what time?

Can you get here in half an hour? We’re in mid-town.

Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you!

Claire ran up the stairs, brushed her hair and teeth and threw on some jeans, a sweater and some boots. She added a scarf and hat for the look, but figured it would be utilitarian, too. Temperatures were starting to fall. She checked herself out in the full length mirror in her room and smiled. She was feeling cute and she attributed it, in part, to having a purpose for the first time since she rescued Skylar from Felicia over the summer.

She flew down the stairs and picked up all of Zia’s journals and placed them into an oversized shopping bag before heading to the elevator.

Where are you off to in such a rush? Rachel asked as she glided through the living room in one of her elaborate night-gowns, matching bathrobe and feathery slippers combinations.

The sound of Rachel’s voice startled Claire, mostly because she was focused and excited about the prospect of beginning to unravel the mystery.

Oh, I have an appointment to see a translator, Claire said, and I only have twenty minutes to get to mid-town.

I hate to say this, but take the subway, it’ll get you there in fifteen.

How…? Claire couldn’t imagine Rachel would be privy to such information.

I took subways when I was younger, Claire, I know they exist, I just don’t need to ride them. Now, go on, Rachel said as she shooed Claire out the door, And text your sister, maybe you two can have lunch.

Claire ran to the subway with a bounce in her step. It had been a while since she felt like she had something concrete to focus on. She didn’t want to undermine the spiritual work she had been doing because she was sure it was equally as purposeful as anything else in the real world, but doing things felt good. Rachel’s suggestion to take the subway made her feel like more of a New Yorker and it added to her exhilarated rush.

Skylar had mentioned she had been taking the 2 train from Rachel’s apartment into mid-town, so Claire thought she’d do the same. She didn’t have time to look at the subway line map to try and figure out where to go.

Rush hour had ended and Claire was able to sit and put her giant bag of diaries in her lap without irritating anyone else on the train. In fifteen minutes, Claire arrived in Midtown.

The energy was entirely different than what she had grown accustomed to in Tribeca. Everything seemed to move at a particularly fast pace. She stood for a second before pulling out her phone to find the exact directions on foot to the translation place. And as luck would have it, she only had a two-block walk. Claire thanked God for how easy the whole trip was… midtown was huge and a lot of trains could have taken her… anywhere.

By the time she arrived at R and G Translators she had taken off her cute little hat and unwrapped her scarf. The air was cool, but Claire had worked up a sweat navigating the journey uptown. She opened the door and was greeted by a secretary who introduced herself as Regina. Claire stood and stared for what felt like a few minutes, long enough that Regina had to ask twice if Claire needed help with something.

Um, I called a few minutes ago to schedule an appointment and you called me back to see if I could come in right away.

Oh, you must be Claire. Hi, I’m Regina Alessi-Westerfield. My husband and I own the company.

Claire couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Zia’s given name was Regina Alessi. She tried to pull herself together. She tried to be a New Yorker and keep the conversation she was having in her mind to herself.

Translator Regina could see something wasn’t right, Can I get you some coffee or water?

Coffee would be great, thank you, Claire could hear a cogent set of words leaving her mouth, but she was definitely having a moment.

Cream?

"It is like a dream," Claire said.

Regina poked her head back around the corner, No, honey, I asked if you wanted cream for your coffee.

Oh, Claire laughed awkwardly, cream would be great, thanks.

Regina disappeared around the corner, returning with a hot cup of coffee with cream already added.

So, you mentioned on the phone that you have some old documents you need translated from Italian?

I do. It’s a long story and some of them are not in the best shape, but anything you can do would be great.

Claire pulled one of the diaries out of the bag and handed it to Regina. Regina carefully perused it before setting on her desk.

We charge by the word… or by the project. I’m guessing it will be a lot more cost effective if I charge you by the project. There are a lot of words here. What is all of this, if you don’t mind me asking?"

Claire almost chuckled to herself. She could hear Rachel saying it’s none of your business what all ‘this’ is, I’m paying you to do a job. Take it or leave it, honey.

Instead, Claire said, They’re my great-aunt’s diaries from 1950 on. She immigrated here from Italy after the war and I really need to know what’s in them.

Wow, that’s cool. So, you’re Italian, but you don’t speak Italian?

I speak some Italian, but not enough to translate all of this. There are like twenty-something diaries here.

Claire really wanted to say something to Regina about her name, but she decided she’d wait. Regina would find out soon enough that she was translating the diaries of a woman by the same name.

This woman, your aunt, her name is Regina Alessi? You have to be kidding me.

Claire didn’t think she’d notice that quickly.

No, I’m not kidding, but I’m sure it’s totally a coincidence.

The lights in the office dimmed briefly. Claire had gotten used to Zia messing with the lights when she needed to remind her of her presence.

Well, Claire said, as she adjusted herself in her chair and took a sip of coffee, on second thought, maybe it’s not a coincidence after all.

2

Skylar saw the text from Claire, but it was impossible for her to take her attention off of the day’s tasks to respond right away. Jennifer was serious about running her business, but she was as equally serious in ensuring her girls attended classes with her on-staff tutors. She gave Skylar the tutor’s number and told her to set up her study schedule in the afternoon, preferably at lunch. Jennifer thought it wouldn’t be a problem for Skylar to eat and learn at the same time… most of the models did exactly that, but it took Skylar only a couple of days to figure out she was the only one who actually ate during class.

She could see the pretty girls looking at her with either envy or disgust… or maybe judgment or disdain, Skylar thought, as they sat at individual round tables in the make-shift tutoring center when she pulled her lunch out of her bag. She would swear the tutors themselves also reacted.

Rachel had asked her chef to put in an extra couple of days’ work to make lunches for Skylar to take for work each day, so Skylar was not going to pass on a delicious and healthy lunch she didn’t have to buy or make for herself. And the chef, Skylar thought his name might have been Paul, packaged everything in cute, recycled paper containers. He and Rachel went out of their way to make her life a little easier and she wasn’t going to give in to the collective weirdness and throw everything away.

So instead, she tried to make peace by offering the girls some of her food, which turned out to be a particularly poor choice on her part. She couldn’t believe she was being judged for eating. She thought some clever, tongue-in-cheek, self-deprecating jokes would help, but in her own judgmental way, she decided her words would most likely go over their heads. Even if they weren’t stupid, she thought, they were in that modeling space of not really using their heads at all. And based on some of the lessons their respective tutors were trying to teach them, the gorgeous, emaciated, anti-food, anti-plus-sized-model models, were indeed not the sharpest tools in the shed. Skylar could have worked with that, but they had already ostracized her.

She tried to smile, make casual conversation and occasionally apologize for her need for sustenance, but the rumor mill had begun and she was quickly labeled as Jennifer’s too-fat-to-model new pet. Skylar thought she had escaped the viciousness of teenaged girls when she left home and high school. It was a sobering lesson to see girls were the same everywhere… and she knew in this business that getting the best jobs and having the best portfolio mattered. Modeling was crazy-competitive, just like everything else in the business. She had to stay on her toes and figure out her place in the scheme of things.

Skylar thought the best way to tone down some of the turmoil in the place would be to occasionally meet her tutor in a different location until she could come up with a viable strategy. There were times Skylar thought she shouldn’t waste any energy on befriending the young, bitchy, skinny girls, but she thought if she were going to run a business of her own one day that it mattered to figure out a way to all get along. She wanted to be that person. Modeling was a flash in the pan for most of them.

You know these girls are starving themselves. Not all of them, Skye, but many of them suffer from eating disorders. Some modeling agencies actually recruit girls when they’re leaving a treatment facility for anorexia or bulimia, Naomi said during one of their off-campus tutoring sessions.

It’s crazy. I mean, I feel really bad, but I don’t want to ignore everyone because I like food. That’s crazy.

Naomi reached her hand across the table and touched the back of Skylar’s hand. Skylar couldn’t blow off her new tutor’s empathic expression. She felt electricity between them, but she wasn’t going to go there in her mind and especially not in real life. She was still dating Felicia, although the relationship was making less and less sense to her. She had sept with Ben, which threw her into a tailspin after all her fussing, declarations, protests and running away so she could be gay… and it turned out to maybe not be entirely true….

Maybe we should get back to work, Naomi said, pulling her hand away.

Skylar watched as she adjusted herself in her seat. She was cute, young and very professional—in her appearance and demeanor. She was tiny. Skylar towered over her by almost a foot and she guessed upwards of fifty pounds. She had dark hair, cut into a short and sassy bob and wore oversized tortoise-shell glasses that made her look especially geeky. Skylar had had almost enough of the alternative hipster persona with Felicia.

Nerds were way more attractive in the moment, and both Naomi and Ben fit that mold. She let the thought leave her brain as soon as she made the observation. Unlike Claire, Skylar was particularly good at not obsessing about trivial things. She was on a mission to create something grand. Men and women of interest were down her list a few notches.

You know, Skylar said, I don’t care if they like me, Naomi, I’m just trying to figure out my philosophy in getting people together when I start my business. It seems if people are happy, they’re more productive.

Naomi nodded in agreement. She had just finished her degree in business and design and was working on her Master’s at Parsons School in design technology. She explained to Skylar how her program incorporated design, sustainability and technology and other disciplines into a new approach to product design and development. It fascinated Skylar.

"If you want, you should come with me to school. They’re always having free seminars. I think you’ll really like them. And as far as the girls are concerned, if you want to bond with them and experiment with various mobilizing approaches to get everyone together, don’t eat when we’re working in there. Its torturous for most of them. Besides, they see you as a spoiled brat– they know who your grandmother is, they know you’re Jennifer’s latest discovery and you don’t have to weigh a hundred and ten pounds to land a great gig. So…."

Okay, I get it, I get it, it’s back to the tutoring center, Skye said detached.

She could see Naomi looking a little deflated. Her suspicions were right.

Oh, and I would love to go with you to see some lectures at school. Maybe I’ll apply to Parsons one of these days.

Naomi perked back up. Skylar wasn’t sure if she found a new friend… or something more, but she wasn’t going to think about any of it in the moment. She had enough on her plate with school, work and her yet-to-be-determined sexual identity. She wondered why other girls seemed to have it so easy… everyone else seemed to know which gender they were most attracted to… but in her heart of hearts, Skylar knew she had it easy in so many other ways.

That would be great! Naomi beamed.

You seem too young to be in graduate school, Skylar said as she hailed a cab back to the office.

Well, I graduated early from high school and college. So, I’ll be twenty-one next year. I should be done with my Masters program when I turn twenty-two.

Nice, Skylar said. She wanted to be in graduate school by the time she turned twenty-one. Another goal to add to her growing list of self-demands.

The cab dropped Skylar off at her building. Naomi handed her the week’s assignments and told her she’d text her in between their sessions if anything interesting was happening on campus. Skylar watched as the cab sped away from the curb and disappeared into traffic.

Hey, gorgeous, I just got called in to talk to Jennifer.

Skylar turned around. It took her a second to figure out it was Marcus and not Ben calling her gorgeous. She was relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her sexual saga continued.

One of these days you have to meet Ben, she said, Even you will do a double-take.

Marcus seemed skeptical about the uncanny resemblance, but she dropped it. He looked distracted or… nervous.

Well, let’s get to Jennifer’s office. I’m assuming you got her text.

Skylar was so engrossed in her conversation with Naomi she had actually turned her ringer off. Her stomach did a flip. It was the first time she wasn’t in constant contact with her boss. She looked at her phone and confirmed her fate. Jennifer had no idea she left the building to get tutored off-campus. She rushed inside with Marcus and hoped everything between her and Jennifer would be all right.

Three minutes early. Good job, you two. Can you get the door? Jennifer said without looking up.

Skylar closed the door and sat down.

So, a couple of things, a couple of opportunities may be available for you, Skylar, but I need a little more from you and Marcus. I’ve arranged for you to do all of her editorial photo shoots. I’ll have one of the girls bring you the shooting schedule for the week.

Sounds good, Jennifer, Marcus said.

You two are on your own. Do something in Central Park, but get a move on. I want fall colors to be in the background. The two of you need to manage this project.

Am I modeling or managing the project with other models? Skylar asked, sounding naïve.

Good question. You’re doing both. You wanted to learn it all, remember?

Skylar could have kissed her boss. She never dreamed she’d actually get what she asked for.

Jennifer nodded. Marcus thanked her and headed for the door. Skylar got up to follow him.

Marcus, Skye will be out in a minute.

Skylar swallowed hard. She could tell she was in trouble.