Hidden Talents

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Lloyd was undaunted. “You've grown up with a sense of duty and responsibility toward this community. Witt's End saved you, gave you everything it had. And in turn you're trying to save it. You're willing to sacrifice yourself for Witt's End. Talk about a myth that's woven into the very fabric of the community. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

  Serenity eyed him uneasily. “Lloyd, I think you're cracking up. Maybe the pressure of trying to make department head is getting to you.”

  “No, I'm on to something here.” He slapped her desk with his palm. “I've felt it all along. It's dynamite. I recognized your unique role in this culture immediately.”

  “You mean my role as sacrificial maiden and magic princess?” Serenity asked politely. “Gosh, Lloyd, I wish you'd mentioned it to me earlier. I could have sent off for a mail order tiara.”

  “This isn't a joke,” Lloyd said through gritted teeth. “You're critical to this culture. You have to maintain your role in it, at least until I finish my study. You have to keep yourself pure and undefiled, like any good sacrificial maiden.”

  “I'm afraid it's a little too late for Serenity to play Vestal Virgin,” Caleb said softly.

  Lloyd glared at him. Then he turned to Serenity. He jerked a thumb toward Caleb. “Don't tell me you're sleeping with Ventress, here. I don't believe it.”

  Serenity's cheeks burned. “I have absolutely no intention of discussing my sex life with you.”

  “You're going to ruin everything,” Lloyd hissed. “Damn it, why the hell do you think I didn't take you to bed, myself? Why do you think I broke off our relationship when I realized things might get too serious? The last thing I wanted to do was disrupt the social dynamic around here by seducing you.”

  Serenity could feel herself turning a brilliant shade of red. She had never been so mortified in her life. “I see.”

  “It's bad enough if you're sleeping with him,” Lloyd said urgently. “But you absolutely cannot ruin all of my hard work and plans by marrying an outsider like Ventress.”

  Caleb's brows rose. “Think of it as a fairy-tale marriage, Radburn. Local princess gets prince.”

  “Yes,” Zone exclaimed suddenly, startling everyone in the office. Her voice rang with excitement. “Yes, that's the explanation for everything. I understand it all now.”

  Serenity, Caleb, and Lloyd turned to stare at her.

  “It has become clear to me at last.” Zone's eyes shone with something that closely resembled transcendental wonder. “The wedding of Caleb and Serenity is a cosmic event. Caleb is the mysterious intruder who has come to claim the sacrificial maiden of Witt's End.”

  “Told you so,” Caleb said.

  Zone's robes fluttered as she raised her hands above her head. “It will be a marriage of yin and yang, a soaring, metaphysical connection between male and female, a celebration of the renewal of the life force.”

  “Zone, I don't really think this is the time or the place for this kind of thing,” Serenity said.

  Zone ignored her. “I knew from the beginning that Caleb's presence here in Witt's End meant that some strong forces had been set in motion. I sensed it but I did not fully comprehend the meaning of the dark, dangerous aura that surrounds Caleb. Especially when it did not fade after the events involving Royce Kincaid.”

  “And now you've got my dark aura figured out?” Caleb asked with grave interest.

  “Yes,” Zone said. “It is the aura of raw power under the control of your masculine will. Only a man capable of channeling such power is suited to bond with Serenity, for she is a woman of equal feminine power. This marriage is fated to change the destiny of Witt's End.”

  “Wait a second,” Lloyd said. “I'm trying to tell you that I don't want Witt's End to change. At least not until I've had a chance to immortalize it in my study.”

  Caleb's smile was laced with cheerful malice. “Sorry about that, Radburn. But you know what they say, you can't halt progress.”

  Lloyd glared at him. “You're not going to be reasonable about this, are you?”

  “Nope,” Caleb assured him, “I'm not. Us mysterious intruders with dark auras aren't noted for being reasonable. Not when we're bent on claiming sacrificial maidens, at any rate.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Lloyd stalked toward the door. “You business types have no respect for intellectual research.”

  “And no particular desire to help you get that promotion to department head, either.” Caleb politely stood aside as Lloyd brushed past him.

  Lloyd did not bother to respond. He continued out through the front of the store. He slammed the door so violently that one small bell fell to the floor with a pathetic little tinkle.

  Serenity, Caleb, and Zone looked at each other.

  Zone smiled serenly and slipped her hands inside the sleeves of her robe. “If you'll excuse me, I'll go finish pricing the new supply of yogurt.”

  Serenity watched Zone move off out of earshot. Then she spun her chair around and collapsed into it with a shudder. “What a ridiculous scene.”

  “I don't know about that,” Caleb said thoughtfully. “It had its moments. And Zone's assessment of our wedding plans was nothing short of brilliant.”

  Serenity glowered at him. “A marriage of yin and yang? A soaring, metaphysical connection between male and female? A celebration of the renewal of the life force?”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said. “And the sex isn't bad, either.”

  Serenity raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I do so admire a man who doesn't fall prey to his baser instincts and the lure of lust in the dust, a man whose goals and motivations spring from the metaphysical realm rather than the mundane physical world, a man who takes a cosmic view of male-female relationships.”

  “How about a man who can put two and two together?” Caleb removed the photograph of his parents and himself from his pocket and tossed it down onto the desk in front of her.

  Serenity glanced at the little family portrait. “What do you mean?”

  “Turn it over.”

  Serenity picked up the photograph and looked at the reverse side. It had been stamped with the date and the name of the studio.

  ASTERLEY AND FIREBRACE. PHOTOGRAPHERS TO THE STARS.

  Serenity's eyes widened. “Oh, my God. Asterley and Gallagher Firebrace? Ambrose and that photographer who tried to rip off some of his equipment after he died were partners at the time this picture was taken?”

  “I should have figured out the connection right from the start.”

  Serenity glanced up and saw the self-recrimination in his eyes. “Yes, I know. You're usually good at that kind of thing.” She smiled gently. “Don't be too hard on yourself, Caleb. This is family stuff. Sometimes we don't always think too logically when it comes to dealing with family relationships.”

  “I've never had that problem myself.”

  “Is that right?” Serenity murmured under her breath. She nibbled thoughtfully on her lip as she studied the information on the back of the photograph. “It looks like Ambrose might have actually met your parents. And you. Weird, huh?”

  “It definitely explains a few things. Like how he knew about the old scandal.”

  “He probably kept track of you over the years because he had once photographed your family. He was always so obsessive with details. When I told him I was going to hire a hotshot business consultant, he naturally thought of you.”

  “Apparently so.” Caleb picked up the photograph and tapped it gently against his palm. “And according to this, he wasn't the only one who knew a lot about me and my family.”

  “Gallagher Firebrace might have known your parents, too.”

  “If Firebrace was Asterley's partner in the old days, he would definitely have known about the scandal.”

  “And Ambrose kept in touch with him over the years. Borrowed money from him. There's no telling how much he might have told him about my plans.”

  “I think it's time I looked up Gallagher Firebrace and paid him a visit.”


  “You think he might be the blackmailer, don't you?” Serenity asked.

  “I think it's a damn good possibility.”

  “I'm going to Seattle with you.”

  “No,” Caleb said.

  “What makes you think that you can stop a cosmic force like me?”

  18

  ARE YOU SURE THIS IS THE RIGHT ADDRESS?” SERENITY came to a halt on the sidewalk and surveyed the sign in the window of the small, run-down photography studio.

  Caleb pulled a slip of paper out of the pocket of his jacket and consulted the address that he had gotten out of the Seattle phone book. “First Avenue. Yeah, this is it.”

  He glanced at the neon sign that had captured Serenity's attention. In a garish shade of orange it proclaimed: FIREBRACE PHOTOGRAPHY—PASSPORTS AND I.D. PHOTOS—NO WAITING. The No portion of the sign had burned out, leaving the impression that one could expect to wait indefinitely.

  He probably shouldn't have allowed Serenity to come with him, he thought. On the other hand, how dangerous could this confrontation be? Firebrace was, in all probability, the blackmailer, but the photographer would know as well as he that there was no proof to link him to the crime.

  “It doesn't look like Gallagher Firebrace has been wildly successful in his chosen field,” Serenity remarked.

  “At least he seems to be making a living at it, which is more than Asterley did.” Caleb winced as a horn blared behind him. The familiar sounds of hissing air brakes and roaring engines annoyed him today for some reason. He had only been away from the city for a short while, but apparently he had already grown accustomed to the tranquil atmosphere of Witt's End.

  “The place looks closed,” Serenity said. “Maybe we should have called first.”

  “I didn't want to give Firebrace a chance to work on his answers before I asked my questions.” Caleb studied the dust-shrouded windows. There was no sign of life behind the glass, but there was no Closed sign hanging in the door window, either.

  He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and twisted. The door opened with a squeak, revealing the empty front portion of the shop.

  A scattering of faded examples of badge photos and identification pictures adorned the walls. There were two metal folding chairs and an ashtray filled with cold cigarette butts in the waiting area. The pattern on the linoleum was obscured by years of wear. A small notice on the glass countertop read: Will Return in Five Minutes.

  “Anybody here?” Caleb called.

  There was no response.

  “Maybe he's in the back,” Serenity suggested. “He might be working in his darkroom or taking photographs of a client.”

  “More likely he saw us coming and decided to keep out of sight.”

  Caleb went around behind the counter. He pushed open the swinging door that separated the front portion of the shop from the studio.

  He went through the doorway and came to an abrupt halt when he saw what was waiting for him.

  He was standing in a black-and-white wonderland filled with giant images of Crystal Brooke's vivid face.

  The enlarged photos of his mother were everywhere in the studio. Her mischievous, laughing eyes looked down on him from the ceiling and confronted him from all four walls of the room. Her sultry lips, parted in a timeless, provocative smile, filled vast stretches of space. Her platinum hair spilled across the floor in waves beneath his feet.

  The camera had caught a variety of luminously lit expressions from seductive to serene to humorous. They were all brilliant portraits, not of a particular person, but of an archetypal woman-goddess, and they were all focused entirely on Crystal's face. None of them showed her in the nude.

  Caleb studied them intently. He had seen work this fine somewhere else, he realized. And recently.

  Serenity came through the door behind Caleb. She stopped in amazement. “What in the world?”

  “It's a little strange, isn't it?” Caleb tore his eyes away from the myriad images of Crystal Brooke and examined the rest of the room. There was no trace of color anywhere in the studio. Everything, from the black metal tripods, cameras, and lighting equipment to the sheets of white gauze used as backdrop material was either black or white.

  “It's like walking straight into an old photograph,” Serenity whispered. “Caleb, I don't like this.”

  He glanced back at her over his shoulder. Serenity was standing nervously amid a jungle of lights mounted on tall, spindly tripods. She had insisted on wearing one of her town-and-country outfits today, a beige and tan pantsuit that did nothing for her. But, as always, her own, naturally vibrant features more than compensated for the drab clothing.

  Her hair was a radiant cloud of fire against the eerie black-and-white room. Her peacock eyes had never looked more intensely green. They were also very wide as she met Caleb's gaze.

  “Wait outside if it makes you uneasy,” Caleb said. “I want to look around.”

  “I think we should both get out of here. Right now. Please, Caleb.”

  “Just give me a minute.” Caleb saw a row of black cabinets at the rear of the studio. Thinking of the interesting information he had discovered in Asterley's files, he started forward.

  “Caleb, wait. There's something very wrong about all this,” Serenity said anxiously. “I really think we should leave.”

  “Too late, I'm afraid, Miss Makepeace.” Gallagher Firebrace spoke from the doorway behind her. “Much too late. But then, maybe it always was.”

  “Oh, my God,” Serenity whispered.

  Caleb turned. Firebrace smiled his crooked smile and pointed the barrel of a gun at Caleb's midsection. “I didn't think you'd figure it out. At least not for a long time. What gave you the lead?”

  “A photograph,” Caleb said. “A picture of my parents taken shortly after I was born. It had ‘Asterley and Firebrace Studios’ stamped on the back.”

  “A photograph.” Firebrace grimaced. “How appropriate. So you put it all together and came looking for me.”

  “Not all of it.” Caleb glanced at the gun. “If I'd figured out all of it, I wouldn't have brought Serenity with me today.”

  “An unfortunate mistake as far as Miss Makepeace is concerned.”

  “Wait a second,” Serenity said tightly. “What's going on here?”

  “Don't you get it, Serenity?” Caleb asked. “Firebrace is not just a blackmailer. He's a murderer.”

  “Murderer?” Serenity stared at him in amazement. “But no one's been killed.”

  Caleb kept his eyes on Firebrace. “Ambrose Asterley was killed, wasn't he, Firebrace?”

  “Ambrose?” Serenity's hand went to her throat. “Oh, no, not Ambrose.” She turned accusing eyes on Firebrace. “You killed him?”

  “It was an accident,” Firebrace snapped. “I never meant for him to die.”

  “Accident?” Serenity breathed. “I don't understand.”

  Firebrace gave her a brief, impatient glance before returning his attention to Caleb. “He caught me that night when I broke into his cabin the second time. I thought he'd gone to bed drunk, you see, like the first time. But he hadn't. After his girlfriend left, he just sat there in his living room with the lights turned out. He heard me come through the window, I guess. It was almost as if he'd been waiting for me.”

  “Maybe he was waiting for you,” Caleb said casually. “Maybe he had a hunch you'd be back. After all, you'd already broken into his files a few days earlier, hadn't you?

  Firebrace's thin mouth tightened into an even narrower line. “The first time I went in to get the pictures of Miss Makepeace. He never heard a sound that time. Passed out in the bedroom.”

  “You returned the second time in order to put a receipt into the files, didn't you?” Caleb asked. “A receipt that showed the photos of Serenity had been sold to Franklin Ventress. You wanted to cover yourself just in case someone came looking for the blackmailer.”

  Serenity was outraged. “You deliberately tried to make Ambrose look like a blackmailer?”

 
; “It seemed the logical thing to do,” Firebrace said. “Just in case anyone ever came looking.”

  Caleb watched his face. “Too bad you hadn't thought of that little touch the first time around. Because things went wrong when you went back the next time, didn't they, Firebrace?”

  Firebrace's fingers tightened on the gun. “Ambrose heard me come through the kitchen window. He caught me. Demanded to know what was going on. I told him the whole story, tried to reason with him. I offered to cut him in on the deal, but he went into a rage. He came at me like a wild man. Said Serenity was a friend of his.”

  “I knew Ambrose would never have blackmailed me,” Serenity said.

  Firebrace didn't appear to hear her. He had an odd look in his eyes. “I ducked to the side but Ambrose just kept going. Straight through the open basement door. Straight down the stairs. I never meant for it to happen that way.”

  “You bastard,” Serenity whispered.

  “I realized afterward that I had to make it look like the accident it was,” Firebrace said quickly.

  Caleb shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket. His fingers touched the palm-sized rock Webster had given him. It was still right where he had left it. He'd forgotten to take it out of the pocket.

  “You wanted it to look like an accident,” Caleb said, “because you didn't want anyone asking questions that might lead to an investigation or an autopsy. An autopsy would have shown that Asterley was not intoxicated when he fell.”

  “I got a bottle from his kitchen stash,” Firebrace said. “I knew him well enough to know that he always kept a bottle around, even when he was on the wagon. I poured the whiskey over him.”

  “Just another little added touch,” Serenity said angrily. “Like sticking the receipt into his files. I suppose it must be instinctive for a photographer to keep fiddling with his subject, trying to get everything perfect before the final shot. Why did you take the risk of showing up in Witt's End the morning after I found Ambrose?”