Rose boarded the plane. From St. John’s, Antigua, she flew to Los Angeles, and from there, hailed a blue-and-white checkered cab.
She was driven to Studio City. She scanned the scenery from the backseat. It dismayed and unnerved her to see charred portions of the burnt hillside. Her nervousness became more profound as the cab wound its way up the hill to her most beloved residence. The devastation shocked and disheartened her, especially with her house no longer there. Charred lumber, blackened trees, and burnt debris lay about.
Everything is gone, Rose thought disconsolately. The money, the jewels, the gold bars, the papers, the photo albums, and the diaries.
Tears welled in Rose’s eyes. She sat back and brooded for a few moments.
Her Spanish villa in Belize had been given to the Holcombs as a gift. Hurricane Aidan destroyed her private resort in Antigua. Her main residence in La Jolla had burnt to the ground when Jack set fire to it. She hated Paris and had no interest in returning there or anywhere else in Europe.
She intended to ask Vivian questions as to what had happened to her home, then place the blame fully and squarely on Vivian and Christine’s shoulders. Additionally, she figured she would have to stay at yet another hotel, which she was sick of, until she started looking for a new home. She didn’t know whether to remain in Los Angeles or even in the state of California. The decision-making would come later.
Rose gave the cab driver an address and had him whisk her there immediately.
