“Thank you, Trudie,” Tammie said. “You’re right.”
Tammie was clearly still rattled as they silently walked back to the church parking lot where he’d parked his Jeep. As they walked, she rubbed her arm as if she was cold and darted a glance back in the direction they had just walked from and then to Dylan.
“You’ve got something spinning in your head. I can tell,” she finally said as they reached the Jeep. “Did you find anything out?”
Dylan unlocked the Jeep and glanced up at the big white church. He thought about telling Tammie what the old man had said about Aaron Gardner being the pastor here years ago. Enough people in town probably still remembered it. They just probably didn’t know the connection that Tammie had to the pastor.
“You don’t think that was an accident back there, do you?” Tammie said, settling in the passenger seat.
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ve been quiet ever since we left the auction grounds.” She was reading him right. Dylan was wondering if what had happened was truly an accident. The fact that there was one lone piece of furniture on a truck filled with crated statues didn’t quite sit right with him. But then, what did he know about antiques or auctions? Maybe all the vendors had an odd assortment of things to peddle.
He’d call Sonny tonight and have her check out Aztec Corporation. For some reason, it rang a bell with him, and maybe his sister could find out why. While he was at it, he’d check in with Jake Santos, one of the officers he worked with in Providence, to see if he could find out anything on Aurore and Susan. Although Captain Jorgensen made it clear that Dylan wasn’t to use department resources to gather information about the possible whereabouts of his brother. Dylan knew Jake and Kevin, two officers who he’d become tight with at the station, were eager to help. He’d only use them for information he knew Sonny couldn’t find on her own.
“I’m just tired from all the talking,” he finally said. The way the driver of the truck had looked at Tammie was almost like contempt. Sure he was upset about losing his load, but it hadn’t been her fault. She’d done nothing to cause it. She’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, it was almost as if he blamed her.
Dylan had no proof that what had happened was anything but an accident. And because of that, he was content to let Tammie think it was—at least for the moment.
When he had a better understanding of why that truck had been down that lane, he’d share his suspicions with her. For now, he just needed to get her back to the mansion so that he could do a little investigating on his own.
When they arrived at the mansion, the front door opened before they were even out of the Jeep and Aurore stood in the doorway with her fists planted on her hips.
“And just where have you been all day?”
* * *
Aurore’s glare said much more than words ever could, Tammie thought as she walked up toward the mansion’s door. She and Dylan had debated whether to take the time to go back to the campground to get Tammie’s car or come straight to the mansion. They both wanted a chance to talk to Serena, so Tammie had suggested they get her car later so that Dylan could talk to Serena with Tammie first and then he could bring her back to pick up the car.
He’d been preoccupied when they left the auction grounds. Maybe he was just tired, as he’d said. Fatigue was wearing her down, too.
Tammie took in Aurore’s hard scowl as they approached the front door.
Kill her with kindness, she thought. Not that Tammie believed it would make a difference. “I went out early and didn’t want to disturb anyone,” she said.
Aurore looked past Tammie, to Dylan. “I should have known you were behind this.”
“Nice to see you again, too, Aurore,” Dylan said, pasting a smile on his face. “Miss me?”
Aurore’s hands knotted. Ignoring Dylan, she turned to Tammie. “Next time you leave the house at the crack of dawn and are gone all day, at least have the courtesy to tell me.”
Aurore’s admonition left Tammie speechless.
“Do you always keep such close tabs on your house-guests?” Dylan asked.
Aurore sighed. “I’d rather not have to run through the house looking for people. I have enough work to do here.”
Tammie glanced at Dylan’s suspicious face and then back at Aurore. “It was so early, I didn’t want to wake anyone. I’m sorry. I should have left a note.”
Aurore nodded, and her expression changed to one of resignation. “Serena was calling for you.”
“She was? Is she still in her—”
“Sleeping. I gave her a sedative. She was quite upset you weren’t here when she woke up. She thought you’d left for good. I assured her your bags were still in your room.”
“I’ll go see her, then,” Tammie said as she and Dylan walked into the house.
Aurore’s hand held her back. “Don’t disturb her. I told you, I gave her a sedative. She hasn’t had her dinner yet and I was getting ready to bring it to her as soon as she wakes up.”
Tammie sighed. Were they ever going to get a chance to talk to Serena?
Susan came into the room. She was about to say something to Aurore, but stopped short when she looked at the tear in Tammie’s jeans. “Did you know your leg is bleeding?”
Aurore’s expression suddenly shifted to one of concern. Reaching down, she opened the gap at Tammie’s knee. “You are bleeding. What happened to you?”
Tammie inspected her knee. “I didn’t notice the blood. I thought it was just a scrape.”
“What did you do to her?” Aurore asked Dylan accusingly.
“Nothing,” Dylan told her. “A load of furniture fell off a truck while we were at the auction grounds. It nearly hit her.”
Aurore gasped. “What were you doing down there?”
“Shopping,” Dylan said dryly. Walking over to the table by the sofa, he picked up a small statue. “Nice piece. I saw something similar to this in one of the tents. Of course, the one I saw was broken.”
“Put that down,” Susan demanded.
“Susan,” Aurore said, “why don’t you see to Serena’s dinner? She may be awake soon. I’m sure she’ll be hungry.”
Susan did as she was told. It was clear she wasn’t going to cross Aurore.
“I’m sorry,” Aurore said to Dylan. “Susan can be a little protective. In the future, I would appreciate it if you asked before you touched anything.”
She took the statue from Dylan’s hand and placed it back on the sofa table, then turned to face them.
Tammie thought it odd. It was only a statue. Perhaps it held sentimental value.
She knew nothing of this house or the people who occupied it. Although evidently connected by blood, she was as much an outsider here as Dylan.
“I don’t like the idea of you going down to the auction grounds alone,” Aurore said. “It’s not safe.”
Tammie smiled warmly at the sudden concern on Aurore’s face. ‘I was with Dylan.”
“Exactly.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “It sounds like Serena will be asleep for a while, so I’m going to go. I’ll come back later to bring you to your car. Will you be okay?” he asked Tammie.
Aurora’s mouth dropped open. “Of course she’ll be all right, now that she’s home.”
“Home? I seem to remember you calling her some pretty harsh names yesterday.” At Aurora’s puzzled look, Dylan added, “‘Imposter’?”
She lifted her chin. “You were leaving?”
“Yes,” he said, and it seemed to satisfy Aurore to some degree. “I have some errands.”
Tammie squashed her disappointment. Still, she’d enjoyed the day more than she’d thought she could. More than she remembered enjoying any day in a long time, despite how it had ended.
“I won’t need the car tonight,” Tammie said.
His eyes held a warmth that touched her. It had been a long time since a man had consumed her thoughts as much as Dylan did. She was clearly attracte
d to him. What woman wouldn’t be? But the pull that attraction had caused a stirring inside her that was hard to ignore. How could he not see it? The thought that he knew the thoughts in her mind caused a blush to creep up her cheeks.
“I’ll be by tomorrow then,” he told Tammie, brushing his fingers across her cheek. With the contact, her skin flamed and he smiled as if he could read her mind. Then Dylan turned to Aurore. “Early. Just so you can expect me.”
“I’ll be counting the hours until you return,” Aurore said sarcastically. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, toward the kitchen.
Dylan waggled his brows. “I think she’s starting to like me, don’t you think?”
Tammie couldn’t help but laugh. “If it weren’t so strange, it’d be funny.”
“Well, she is acting a bit odd.”
“She’s hiding something.”
“You think?” He eyed her, and she smiled, surprised to find that she could. “Whatever it is, I’m dying to find out.”
“She seemed almost afraid for me,” Tammie said, recalling her expression when she learned they’d been at the auction grounds.
“Concerned, or annoyed?”
“Are you always this suspicious of people’s intentions?”
Dylan blew out a quick breath. “Lately, I’m afraid I am.”
“Well,” she said, “I can’t say I blame you. You have a good reason.”
“Thanks for understanding. And...for this morning.”
Puzzled, she asked, “What about this morning?”
“For not judging Cash. For at least being willing to see things another way. It was refreshing.”
Tammie shrugged slightly. “Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.” She thought about her parents, and how they weren’t going to have the chance to tell her why they hadn’t told her the truth.
She rubbed her temple.
“Another headache?” Dylan asked.
She nodded. “And I’m exhausted. I think jet lag has finally taken its toll. But I’m going to try to talk to Serena tonight. Hopefully alone.”
“You have my cell phone number handy. Unlike in the center of town, I get a pretty good signal at the campground, so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting through to me if you need to call.”
“Thank you, too. For everything you did today. I…”
“What?”
It was hard for her to put her feelings into words without him taking it the wrong way. But as Tammie thought about, there really was only one way to take them. “I don’t want you to leave.”
The light in his eyes flared and the muscles in his jaw tightened. “I have to.”
And she knew what he meant. Something was pulling them together and it had nothing to do with her parents or his brother.
“I will be back though. I promise you that. Try to get some rest.” With his hand on the doorknob, he added, “Oh, and make sure you use the lock on your bedroom door.”
Tammie doubted she’d be able to sleep. Her schedule was so off-kilter, she didn’t know whether the sun was setting or rising. She was thankful Susan wasn’t around to give her a hard time. After having so little sleep the night before, she felt as if she could slide into bed and sleep for a hundred years.
She climbed the stairs, taking a long look at the painting on the wall. The swell of Eleanor’s stomach was the only evidence that Tammie had been part of this family. If indeed Eleanor had been pregnant with Tammie in this picture. She believed she had been. As she glanced at the picture it struck her how odd it was that Eleanor had chosen to have the painting done before
Tammie was born. Why wouldn’t she have wanted both children in the picture?
Because she gave you away. No, Tammie quickly thought, pushing that notion out of her mind. Eleanor died in a fire on the night of her birth. Eleanor didn’t choose anything. She was taken from all of them and someone had sent Tammie away. The question was why since her father clearly lived in this house with Tammie’s sister. Serena had stayed. Why not Tammie?
She sighed, climbed the rest of the stairs and made her way to her room.
The setting sun filled the room with an amber glow. Tammie flicked the light switch to find her way around the room without knocking into things.
The bed was still unmade. It looked inviting, with its rumpled blanket and sheets and the pillow that still had the imprint of her head on it. Sitting down on it, she flipped her sneakers off and reached into her jacket pocket to pull out her cell phone.
She’d turned it off earlier, not wanting to be disturbed by calls from well-meaning friends. Well, one well-meaning friend in particular. Now she heard the familiar ping that indicated she had a message.
No, she thought, glancing at the screen. Voice mail messages.
“Bill, you are relentless,” she muttered.
Pressing the button to connect to her voice mail, she slipped off her socks and rubbed her feet as she waited for the automated voice to play.
“You have four new messages,” it announced.
She didn’t bother listening to them. Instead, she hit the contact button for Bill’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“I knew you’d answer on the first ring,” she said. Predictable and steady.
“You didn’t call last night,” Bill said accusingly. It wasn’t like him to be this demanding, but he must have been worried.
A twinge of guilt stabbed Tammie. “It was late.”
“Not for me. I’m on the other side of the United States. I would have been up. And I was up. Do you know why? Because I was waiting for you to call.”
“Sorry.”
He sighed. “So are you ready to stop this nonsense and come home?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I just got here.”
This was not a conversation she was going to let him drag her into again, about how she was being paranoid. Serena’s existence and this house proved she hadn’t been paranoid, even if she didn’t have all the details she craved yet.
“I’m working with someone here,” she said, getting right to the point.
Silence.
“Bill?”
“Who?”
Okay, at least he was listening. “A man name Dylan Montgomery. He’s a police officer from Providence.”
“What’s he doing in Eastmeadow?”
She gave his comment a quick chuckle. “Looking for his brother.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
She closed her eyes. The truth was, she didn’t know if it had anything at all to do with her. The only connection they had was Serena.
“I’m not sure yet. But he thinks we can help each other.”
“I don’t like it. How do you know he’s even a cop? He could be some nutcase trying to take advantage of you.”
She smiled, remembering how Dylan had stepped in front of her car on the street. She’d thought he was crazy then. “He’s a nice guy. Decent. You’d like him.”
No, he wouldn’t. Dylan and Bill were about as different as two people could be.
“Really?” Bill didn’t sound convinced. “You’ve got a thing for him?”
“For God’s sake, I just got here, Bill.” She rolled her eyes, but something inside made her feel like she wasn’t being completely honest.
“Hey, I’ve known you since we were in junior high school. I know when you have a crush on a guy.”
“Crush? What are we, in seventh grade again? No, I do not have a crush,” she said.
“Yeah, you do. You just don’t know it yet.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know because it was never me.”
Tammie didn’t have a quick comeback for that. She’d always known that Bill wanted more from their friendship than what they had. But while she enjoyed, even treasured their friendship, she’d never felt the same way he did. She’d been very careful not to give him any false hope that their relationship could turn into something more.
“I don’t h
ave a crush on anyone.” She said it as delicately as she could. “I’m too busy for that.”
“How’d you meet this guy?”
She arched an eyebrow. Did she really want to go there? “Dylan is just a guy looking for his brother, and he’s helping me find out some things about my parents.”
That much was true. She hoped it was enough to satisfy Bill’s curiosity.
“So?”
“So, what?” she answered.
“Has he? Helped you find out anything about your mom and dad?”
Tammie quickly filled him in on the few things that had happened since she’d arrived in Eastmeadow, leaving out the part about how she’d actually thought Dylan was crazy when she first met him. To Bill’s credit, despite his reservations about her staying at the mansion, he didn’t press her.
“I worry about you. Don’t make me call you fifty times before you answer,” he said, his voice filled with concern.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry. I’m on to something. I was right to come here.”
“I miss you,” he said quietly.
She sighed softly. “I’m sorry about that too, Bill. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Tammie had known Bill a long time. Of all her friends, he was the one who could read her the best. That was why he’d known she needed to go back to Winchester after her parents’ death. It was also why he’d known that once she found out about the DNA tests, she wouldn’t be able to let it go.
And why he’d known that Dylan was something more than just a man helping her search for the truth. But even Tammie didn’t have the answer to what that something was.
#
Chapter Eight
“Guess what, Dyl?” Sonny said to him over the phone as he put together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“What?”
“Aztec Corporation makes statues.”
He dropped the knife on the paper plate and waited. When she didn’t elaborate, he heaved a heavy sigh that got her attention.
“No shit, Sonny. I already knew that. I saw about a half dozen of them smashed on the ground.” And one in the Davco mansion.
“Oh.”
Reckless Hours: a Romantic Suspense novel (Heroes of Providence Book 3) Page 11
