"You suspect something," Cara accused. "You suspect something and you won’t tell me what it is."
Gray absently ran a hand through his hair. She remembered touching the thick, dark strands the night before when she’d nearly succumbed to passion. What kind of an idiot would consider giving herself to a man who wouldn’t give anything of himself in return? Especially while mulling over another man’s marriage proposal.
"I’m a cop, Cara. I always suspect something."
"That doesn’t explain why you won’t tell me what it is!"
"Because as a cop my word carries more weight," he said. "If I start spreading rumors when I have nothing to back them up, what kind of a cop does that make me?"
"A cautious one." Her eyes pleaded with him to trust her. "But we’re not talking about rumors. We’re talking about a confidence between me and you. If you think somebody in town is a danger to me, it’s your duty to warn me. It’s your job to keep me safe."
"The best way for you to keep safe is to leave town."
"Oh, that makes a lot of sense." Sarcasm laced Cara’s words. "Somebody in Secret Sound committed a crime that, even all these years later, they’re desperate to cover up. And the one person who should be duty-bound to uncover it wants to bury his head in the sand so he can pretend he can’t see what’s happening."
"I never said that—"
"You didn’t have to," Cara snapped. "Even though you’re going through the motions of helping, it’s obvious you don’t want to know what happened."
He didn’t have an answer to that, so Cara pivoted away from him and continued walking up the main street of Secret Sound while she cursed him under her breath.
Halfway down the block, she brushed a pedestrian coming the other way, forcing her to apologize and take note of her surroundings. Crosswalk pavers and new park benches in a beautiful redwood graced the street, obvious signs that it had been refurbished with the original feel of the town in mind. A red-and-white pole, reminiscent of bygone days, marked the front of an old-fashioned barber shop. A window embossed with cursive white letters proclaiming the place Baked Treasures marked the bakery.
In front of her and off to the side, a sign on a white-washed building advertised weekend showings of the play "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty." Cara stopped not because of the choice of the play, which happened to be a favorite, but because of the oddly shaped windows on the building.
There were three of them, positioned in a perfect isosceles triangle and shaped like pentagons with mullions that separated the windows into four panes. They were striking in a world where homogeny was the rule. Cara knew that somehow, somewhere she had seen them before.
A chill snaked down her spine, reminding her that her role as a brave investigative reporter was only a masquerade. She had always been a timid soul. She hadn’t had the courage to stand up to her parents and follow her dreams because she’d been too afraid of leaving Sumter. Too afraid of the unknown.
So why, when her sanity was on the line as much as her life, did she think she was brave enough to stay in Secret Sound?
"Don’t leave me!"
The child’s shrill voice startled her, drawing her attention from the windows to the sidewalk. A small boy, no more than five years old, ran toward her. When he got to within twenty feet, she saw his face clearly. The shock of dark hair. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose. The huge, haunted dark eyes.
Skippy Rhett.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cara blinked once, twice in disbelief. She couldn’t erase the image of Skippy running toward her.
"Don’t leave me!" he yelled again.
She raised shaking hands to a mouth that had dropped open and stared at the boy who should have been in his grave instead of running loose on Main Street.
"Well, if you’d stay close instead of lagging behind, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. Now, would you?"
The woman’s voice came from behind Cara. She turned so fast it took a moment for the world to stop spinning so she could focus. The woman was in her early twenties, holding a shopping bag with one hand and a little girl about three years old with the other. She had the harried look of young mothers everywhere with too much to do and too little help.
"I was afraid you'd leave me," the little boy cried.
Cara turned back to him. He was closer now, no more than a few feet away, and he didn’t much look like Skippy at all.
He was tow-headed rather than dark. Instead of brown eyes, his were so blue they would have been reminiscent of a sunny sky if they hadn’t been brimming with tears. Not a single freckle dotted his nose. He didn’t even glance at Cara as he passed her by.
"Just come on," the woman said impatiently. The boy swiped the back of his hand against his wet eyes.
"Is something wrong, Cara?" Gray suddenly stood next to her, positioned off her right shoulder. She’d been no more aware that he had caught up to her than she’d been of the young mother. She’d only been cognizant of the boy and his plea, which had seemed like a message from the grave.
Don’t leave me.
"Don’t you dare tell me to leave town again," she said in a low, resolute voice. "If you don’t want to help me find out what happened to Skippy, I’ll do it myself. But, mark my words, I will find out."
"I said I would help you." Gray's mouth twisted. "So I’ll help you."
"How? By following me around to make sure I don’t get too close to the truth?"
"I pulled the case file on Skippy’s kidnapping this morning.” His voice didn’t reflect the anger that had flashed in his eyes. “That’s how I knew the name of the nanny. I thought something in the file might help me figure out what’s been happening to you, but there was nothing.
"I think the only way we’ll make any progress is to talk to the police chief who investigated the crime."
His reasoning was so simple that Cara’s pulse sped up in anticipation. Of course! Who would know better about a case than the lawman who had conducted the investigation?
"When are we going?" she asked.
"Not today," he said. "Maybe even not tomorrow. Before we talk to him, I have to find out where he is."
"You mean you don’t know?"
He shook his head. "I lost track of him a few years ago. My dad might know where he is. In the meantime, you’ll have to be patient."
"Patience isn’t a trait we reporters possess," she said, momentarily forgetting she wasn’t a reporter at all.
"If you come to lunch with me, you can yell at me some more. It’ll take your mind off the waiting."
She couldn’t bring herself to bat away his olive branch any more than she could stop her lips from curving. He smiled back.
"Later, I’ll take you to a party the newspaper staff is throwing tonight. That’ll help, too."
"What makes you think I’d want to go with you?"
He took her arm, and even that incidental touch reminded her of why. "I can be charming when I want to be."
And that, Cara thought, was most definitely not the least of her problems.
Karen Rhett switched on the interior light of the sleek black Lincoln Continental she’d received in her divorce settlement and peered at herself in the rear-view mirror. Frowning, she dug a slim tube from her purse and reapplied her lipstick darker and redder. Then she fluffed the hair she’d just washed and blow-dried, trying to achieve an elegantly tousled look.
She didn’t know why she bothered. Here it was Saturday night, her birthday no less, and she was headed to the Dew Drop Inn to have a drink with one of her female employees. Mandy didn’t even know about the dubious occasion. It didn’t matter, because there wasn’t much to celebrate. Karen doubted that being thirty-four would be an improvement over being thirty-three.
She might as well spend the evening listening to Mandy’s problems. The younger woman had insisted she needed her advice, and Karen had automatically concluded she was having man problems. Mandy probably figured Karen had been with enough of them to b
e an authority on the subject. She couldn’t know Karen had man problems of her own.
Gray was still gallivanting around town with that nosy Cara Donnelly, too busy, it seemed, to return her phone calls. And Tyler Shaw had given up on his notion of taking her to dinner after a single refusal. Not that she wanted to go. It irked her, though, that he didn’t think she was worth asking twice.
She thought of the way Mandy had eyed Tyler and said a rare prayer. It wouldn't do any good. The God she knew would probably arrange it so Mandy’s man problems turned out to be with Tyler.
Karen didn’t want Tyler, not by a long shot. She also didn’t want to listen to Mandy if she did want him.
She got out of the car and tottered a moment on her outrageously high candy-apple-red heels before catching her balance. She tossed her head and affected a suggestive wiggle that went perfectly with the tight red mini dress she’d treated herself to for her birthday.
She might be dateless on what should have been one of the most notable Saturday nights of the year, but she was damned if she would look like it bothered her. Besides, opportunity had a knack of knocking when you least expected it.
Her heart banging against her ribs at the thought of who might be inside the bar. It was a hangout of Tyler’s and on weekend nights he was more often there than not.
Of course, Gray was the one she really wanted to see.
She flung open the door, pausing long enough to cock a hip and position one long leg in front of the other, in case anyone interesting was looking. Her gaze immediately connected with Tyler’s, who raised a long, tall glass of beer and an appreciative eyebrow. His grin was slow and that much sexier because of it. Warmth kindled low in her belly traveled all the way up to her rouge-stained cheeks.
Damn the man! She was blushing like a schoolgirl, just because a tousled-haired boy she had known since childhood had grown into an insolent hunk who made no secret that he wanted her.
It was downright embarrassing. It was—
"Surprise!"
The shout came not from a single patron but from nearly every one in the establishment. Except her. She managed to stop looking at Tyler and saw that her friends filled the Dew Drop Inn. Most of them were employees of the Sun and they broke into a spirited, off-key rendition of the happy birthday song.
Karen’s eyes welled with quick, unexpected tears, and a few of them trickled down her cheeks. She wiped at them as they sang, wondering what in the world she had done to deserve such a surprise.
When the last discordant note trailed off, Mandy broke off from the group and rushed forward. She clapped her hands and grinned hugely, her eyes glittering with pleasure.
"You’re surprised, aren’t you, Karen? I don’t really have a problem. I just wanted to get you down here.”
"But..." Karen could barely speak. She couldn’t remember anybody doing anything like this for her before, not even her parents. "But why?"
"Why?" Mandy laughed. "Because you’re a wonderful boss and we love you. C’mon. Let’s sidle on up to the bar and get Gene to pour you a drink."
Some of her friends and employees closed around her. Karen included all of them in her smile, but it was Tyler she focused on. He still sat on his bar stool, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his posture relaxed.
This time, when he smiled at her, she smiled back. Later, she’d work out how she'd get it through his thick skull that she wasn’t interested. For now, she'd enjoy his admiration and the unexpected joy of being honored on a day she’d thought everyone had forgotten.
From across the bar, Gray watched the unrestrained smile Karen sent Tyler and hoped his friend was making progress.
Even if not for Tyler, Gray wouldn’t have gotten involved with Karen. A relationship would surely wreck their friendship, and his feelings toward Karen had always been more brotherly than sexual. He couldn't say the same about the woman sitting next to him.
Since he’d picked Cara up a half-hour ago, the citrusy scent that clung to her had been driving him crazy. She smelled like orange blossoms and he wanted to taste her in the worst way. He was going to, too, before the night was over. He didn’t give a damn about what Richard Lansford would have to say about that. Richard wasn’t here.
From across the room Karen let out a great peal of laughter so infectious that Gray smiled, too. "She’s happy about the surprise party, don’t you think?" he asked Cara.
"That’s because she hasn’t seen me yet." Cara crossed her arms over her chest. "You said we were going to a newspaper party. You didn’t say we were going to Karen Rhett’s birthday party. She doesn’t like me."
"Karen doesn’t know what she likes," Gray said. As he watched Tyler approach her, Karen deliberately turned to talk to someone else. Gray grinned as he watched his friend expertly insinuate himself into the conversation so that he stood between Karen and the other person.
"Who’s that?" Cara asked.
Somebody had set the jukebox to a raucous, rock-and-roll song, which gave him an excuse to move closer to her. He raised his voice. "Who are you talking about?"
Cara inclined her head. Her hair smelled so good he wondered if she sprinkled perfume on her comb.
"The tall, good-looking guy talking to Karen," she answered. "Who is he?"
"Tyler Shaw." Gray looked at his friend in a new light. So Cara thought Tyler was good-looking, did she? He wasn’t so sure he liked that. "We’ve been friends since kindergarten."
"That’s what growing up in a small town is all about, isn’t it? Long-time friendships. Loyalty. Ties to the community." She paused. "Confidences you think you can’t break."
Gray took a long drink from his beer and considered his answer. If she were a reporter, she’d make a good one.
Curtis had been sitting across the bar from him for the last ten minutes, determinedly averting his gaze. Gray had already driven a wedge into his relationship with his former father-in-law by airing his suspicions. He couldn’t destroy what was left of it by revealing them to anyone else.
"That’s the definition of a confidence, Cara," he said finally. "Trusting somebody else not to betray your word."
"Oh, there you are, Gray. I’ve been looking all over for you." Karen suddenly appeared beside him, standing much closer than he would have liked. Her perfume was heavier than Cara’s and probably three times as expensive. All it did was make him want to sneeze. After he’d wished her a happy birthday, she laid a hand that featured cherry-red fingernails on his arm and sent a smile toward Cara. "Hello, Sarah."
This time, neither he nor Cara bothered to correct her. Cara was right. Karen didn’t like her.
"You won’t mind if I steal Gray away for a minute, would you? I made a bet and the only one who can settle it is the police chief of Secret Sound."
"Why would I mind?" Cara asked.
Gray stopped short of providing her with an answer. He wanted her to mind, damn it.
He rose and let Karen lead him through the mass of humanity that seemed to represent half the citizenry of Secret Sound. When they passed Tyler, he sent his friend an apologetic shrug. Karen made a point of giving him a taunting smile.
Oh, great. Just what he needed. Karen using him to make Tyler jealous. He wouldn't have any part of it. He’d settle her bet and head right back over to Cara.
She stopped in a far corner of the bar between a pool table and pin-ball machine. Nobody was within six feet of them.
"I don’t get it," Gray said. "Where’s the person you made the bet with?"
Karen laughed up at him and stroked his cheek. Gray was uncomfortably aware that in all likelihood Tyler still watched them.
"The bet’s already settled," she said. "I bet myself I could get you away from that Connelly woman. So I win."
"Karen—"
"Want me to tell you about the next bet I made with myself?" She moved closer until her body pressed against his. Gray hoped like hell Tyler wasn’t watching this. Then he had another, worse thought. What if Cara were watching? "I bet
I could get you to kiss me."
She wasn’t tall enough to reach his mouth unless he dipped his head, but she tried. Her ruby-red lips landed on his chin, and Gray gave up on tact. He very gently, but very firmly, placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her back from him.
"Karen, stop," he said. "I don’t want this, and neither do you."
Her eyes flashed, hurt and anger mingling in them. Exactly the expression a little girl who doesn’t get her way might wear. Her body, so soft and welcoming a moment before, went rigid. "It’s because of Tyler, isn’t it? That’s why you won’t come near me."
"It’s not because of Tyler." Gray ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, yes, it is. But it’s not, too. I’ve known you all my life, Karen. You’re like a sister to me."
"So was Suzy," Karen snapped, "and you married her."
"Things with Suzy were..." Gray paused, searching for the right word. "...different."
"You mean because she was pregnant? Is that what it takes, Gray. Is that the only way you’ll commit to a woman?" She shook her head. "No wonder Suzy did what she did."
He frowned. "Did what she did? I don’t understand."
"Of course you don’t," Karen hissed. "You men can be so obtuse. Suzy was in love with you, but you hardly paid her any attention. So she set out to seduce you so she could trap you into doing what she wanted."
"What are you saying?" Gray whispered. In the background, a sad-voiced singer on the jukebox crooned about unrequited love.
"I’m saying you’re a sucker. Sweet little Suzy didn’t get pregnant by accident. She lied, Gray. She lied because she wanted you to marry her.
"She never had a miscarriage, either, because she was never pregnant."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Something was troubling Karen. After a lifetime of watching her, Tyler knew the nuances of her expressions, from the way she played with her jewelry when she was nervous to how she bit her lower lip when something wasn’t right in her world.
Sound of Secrets Page 16
