“Jan, baby,” he said, stepping forward and grasping both her hands. His touch had not changed, it was still as luxurious as cashmere. “How I’ve dreamed about this moment.”
Janet pulled her hands away and stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans.
“Come in, Adam.”
He moved into the room, closed his eyes and lowered his head.
“Oh, my. The memories of you in this room.” His voice faltered. “The memories,” he whispered. He shook his head and turned to look at her. “You were right, you know. I was wrong to ask you to do something that clearly you were unable to do. Only after the passage of this last year did I realize that it wasn’t the money I wanted—it never was.” He smiled and Janet’s heart flipped over. “I think what I wanted was to see how far you’d go for me. I wanted to know just how much you really loved me.” He cupped his hands and stared at them. “I guess I was so insecure that I needed to know you’d do anything for me. Anything.”
“You were testing me?” Janet fought to keep her voice from becoming shrill. “You were playing a game to see how far you could get me to go, just to make you happy? Don’t you think that’s just a little on the tacky side, Adam?”
He took Janet’s hand and led her to the sofa.
“And selfish. Mostly selfish.” His green eyes misted. “I can’t ask you to forgive me. I wouldn’t do that. But I can promise it will never happen again—not as long as I live.”
His gaze held her captive until she broke the spell and pulled her eyes away. She needed to put space between them.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? A soda?”
He urged her back onto the cushion beside him.
“You’re all I need.” His fingertips feathered against her cheek and trembled down across her lips. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”
Janet closed her eyes and her apparent acceptance of his touch seemed to encourage him to press her closer. She stiffened against the bold embrace.
“Adam, no,” she said. “You have no right to do this.”
Her unsteady hand brushed a stray curl from her face.
“I’m sorry baby, please forgive me.” Adam’s voice was heavy with contrition. “I knew seeing you again would affect me.” He gave a burst of nervous laughter. “I guess I just didn’t know how much.” He pulled himself upright on the sofa. “It won’t happen again. Now, is that offer of coffee still good?”
Janet jumped to her feet.
“Of course, it is,” she said. “Cream. No sugar?”
“You remembered.” His green eyes sparkled. “I’m flattered.”
Janet’s escape to the kitchen felt like an unsettling reprieve. She didn’t like what was happening, and what she was beginning to feel. After all, she reasoned to herself, she had seen this man in action before. She knew of his expertise in manipulation. But people change, she thought, remembering all the changes she had gone through in the last few months. Had Adam changed too? Only time would provide an answer to that question.
Back in the living room, Janet settled on the far end of the sofa and turned slightly to face him. She couldn’t quite believe he was here beside her.
“This seems so natural,” he said. “My being here, I mean.” He unfolded his long legs from beneath the table and crossed them. “By the way, you didn’t tell me who answered the phone when I called the library. I thought I knew all the voices, but I didn’t recognize that one.”
“We have a new employee,” Janet said without elaboration.
“Putting on extra help at Lancaster Memorial, are you? Things must be going pretty well.”
“He’s not extra help. He was hired to replace Hilda.”
“Hilda’s gone? I don’t believe it. I figured she’d be there until she died.”
“She was.”
“Was what?”
“There until she died.”
“You’re kidding. What happened?”
“She was struck by a car—a terrible accident. I’d rather not talk about it.” She reached for his cup. “Let me freshen your coffee. Can I get you something else? A bite to eat?”
Adam placed his hand on top of hers. “Speaking of eating, will you have dinner with me tonight? Let’s go back up to the Cobblestone Ordinary, Jan. Remember how we used to love going there, the nights we spent at our table in front of the fireplace?” He moved closer to her on the sofa. “Let’s go back. We’ll eat, we’ll dance to Kenny G’s old classics, and then we’ll come back here. It’ll be just like it was before—before I went away.”
Janet was afraid. “I don’t know, Adam.”
“Don’t doubt me, baby. My only desire now is to make up for the past. I promise, I will. Maybe someday you’ll trust me enough to allow me the honor of going to Heather Down to meet your grandmother.” He smiled. “I’d like that.”
Janet’s head jerked around. “You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Grandmother’s dead. She died several months ago.”
“I didn’t know.” He turned her hand over and touched his lips to the palm, then closed her fingers, sealing in the kiss. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”
“No.” A sudden mist clouded his eyes. “No.”
Janet nodded, accepting his sympathy.
“I’ve been out of touch this past year. I was down in the Bahamas for a while. But you know, no matter where I went I couldn’t get you out of my mind. And it’s been just these past few months that I had the almost unbearable feeling that you needed me. I had to come back, Jan. Do you understand?”
Janet sat in silence. Did she understand? Could she believe that in the space of time they’d been separated he had undergone this transformation—a metamorphosis? Could she let him again become important in her life? And Stephen. What about Stephen? She rubbed the tips of her fingers across her forehead to clear away the confusion.
“How about it?” He interrupted her thoughts. “Dinner?”
“Okay. But not tonight. It’s too late, and I’m not dressed.”
“Tomorrow night, then?”
Janet nodded.
Adam set his cup on the coffee table and touched her cheek lightly. “I need to go,” he said, giving her a smile that seemed to suggest more than he was saying out loud. “I really need to go now.”
Janet rose and took a step toward the front door. He seemed surprised that she was letting him leave. After hesitating for a moment, he followed. She placed her hand on the knob, but before she could turn the handle, he pulled her into his arms.
“Adam, don’t,” she said.
For a fleeting instant his green eyes shifted, a change that was so quickly gone that Janet wasn’t sure it had even happened. He smiled and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.
“Good night, baby,” he said and went out the door.
After Janet cleared the coffee table, she sat down and pulled the phone into her lap. Automatically, she punched in the numbers.
“Hey. It’s me.”
“What’s up?”
“Adam was here.”
“I don’t believe it,” Chelsea huffed. “He wouldn’t have the nerve. Wonder how he managed to move the rock so he could crawl out?”
“I don’t know. But here he was, just out of the blue, calling and asking if he could come over.”
“And you said yes.”
Janet remained silent.
“And he looked gorgeous.”
“Give the little girl a prize.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Lordy, what a trusting soul you are.”
“Am I too trusting, Chelsea? Am I a simpleton to consider that he’s changed?”
“Simpleton? No. Innocent, maybe. Always looking for the best in people, definitely. But never could either of us be called simpletons.”
Janet laughed. “Thanks, I think.”
; “What about Stephen?”
“What about him?”
“How did he take to Heather Down?”
“Like macaroni takes to cheese. He fell in love with the tower, the house, the grounds.” Janet laughed. “And he developed a terrific crush on that ratty old car in the carriage house.”
“And now he has competition, with Adam.”
Janet grimaced. “It’s not a contest. I don’t think anybody is in competition with anybody else, Chels. Besides, Stephen’s disappeared.”
Chelsea laughed. “Well, naturally. People around you come and go so quickly.”
“Like Munchkin Land? Only this is not Oz. This is my life.”
“And you’re still going out with Adam?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Be careful, Janet.”
“Goodnight.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Later, Janet lay in the dark, her mind busy sorting out the pieces and trying to make sense of the jigsaw puzzle that was her life. Slowly, sleep overtook her brain, smoothing out the wrinkled brow and her face relaxed in repose. Her sleep was deep and easy until the ringing of the phone jarred her awake. She groped for the receiver in the dark.
“You were sleeping,” the voice whispered.
“Of course, I was sleeping. What do you want now?”
“Just wanted to wish you goodnight.”
“What? No riddles?”
“Not tonight. My only concern is for you—and naturally for your continued good health and happiness.” The voice was emotionless. “Go back to sleep now, back to the long corridors of darkness where dreams are nothing but deceptive shadows. There’s danger in shadows, you know—false shadows and true light.” There was a dramatic pause. “The trick is to tell which is which.” The voice dropped, becoming more ominous. “And you can expect no prince to rescue you. But I’ll be here, and I’ll be watching, and believe me, I’m no prince.”
Janet slammed the receiver back on the hook. A sudden fear of the darkness made her switch on the lamp and she sat up in bed for what seemed like hours. Finally, when her head started to droop, she became disgusted with her behavior and snapped off the light. So much for letting someone else control her life.
The next night, Janet and Adam drove to one of Janet’s favorite places. The Cobblestone Ordinary had been many things in the past: a way-station for the pony express, a brothel said to have been frequented by Paul Revere and some of his rowdy compatriots, a hospital for the Union wounded. But in recent years it had been meticulously restored and preserved, from the rough-hewn beams overhead to the open-hearth fireplace with a spit large enough to accommodate a full side of venison. Each year on the first day of October, the Lighting of the Kindling ceremony was held. A match was touched to the wood as “I’ll Be Seeing You” was played by the house band, and the fire was kept burning until the Ides of March.
Now, as Adam glided her around the dance floor, memories of other evenings, other dances, came to Janet’s mind and she laid her head on his shoulder. As if sensing her mental expedition into times past, he pulled her closer.
“Marry me, baby,” he whispered against her ear.
Janet lifted her head and looked into the mysterious depths of his eyes, half-shadowed in the dim light. Had he actually uttered the words she had so often dreamed of hearing?
“What did you say?”
“Marry me,” he repeated. “We belong together, you and I, always have—always will.”
“How would we live, Adam? Are you working?”
The rhythm of his posture altered ever so slightly. Janet felt the faintest realignment of his body and removed her hand from his shoulder.
“I’ve had enough dancing for tonight,” she said.
Adam tucked Janet’s hand into the crook of his arm and guided her past the other dancers. At the table, he pulled out her chair and caressed the small of her back as she sat down.
“To answer your question, I do have a couple things in the works that look promising.” He laughed slightly, and the firelight reflected in his eyes. “Very promising. In the meantime, I find myself most comfortable.”
Janet picked up her wineglass and drained it.
“I’m glad to hear that. I know how much you like the finer things.”
“Now, about my proposal.” He gave her the killer smile that always turned her bones to Jello. “You didn’t say yes.”
“Let’s not rush into anything,” she said. “You’ve just come back to Middlebrook, and I’ve hardly had time to adjust. Let’s take it slow for now and enjoy each other’s company.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said with a wink. “But don’t think I’m giving up easily. You’re far too important to me.”
Janet acknowledged his declaration with a nod of her head and looked at her watch.
“Can we go now? It’s getting late.”
“Check please,” Adam called to a passing waiter as he reached for his wallet.
Moments later the waiter arrived at their table and presented the check on a silver tray. Adam covered the bill with a platinum credit card and the waiter left and returned almost immediately for a signature. Adam leaned forward, cupping his hand across the top of the receipt and Janet could hear the scratching of the pen as it scribbled across the crisp paper.
“Thank you, Mr. Brooks,” the waiter said, tearing off a copy and handing it back to Adam. “You folks have a nice evening.”
“Thank you,” Adam said, standing up and moving around the table.
Janet frowned. “Why did he call you Mr. Brooks?”
“You noticed that too, did you?”
“Well. Why did he?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he had somebody else in mind. Maybe his last customer was a Mr. Brooks. Who knows, with those kind of people.”
“You could have corrected him.”
“Janet, he’s just a waiter. It wasn’t important.”
Janet flinched at the coldness in his voice.
He maintained a steady stream of conversation on the drive home. Janet found herself listening to the tone of his voice rather than the actual words. His voice reminded her of a carnival barker: “Step right up, little lady. I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make you a special deal that you’d have to be dumb as a turnip to refuse. All you hafta to do is trust me. Yes, siree, step closer and take advantage of the greatest deal in the world.”
Adam was still talking when he pulled into the parking lot at Middlebrook Arms and reached for the door handle.
“No, Adam. It’s late, and I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”
He smiled. “Alone?”
“Goodnight.”
Janet stepped from the car and walked up the sidewalk. By the time she reached her porch she was aware that he was still in the parking lot. She unlocked her front door and entered the apartment without a backward glance.
She closed the door behind her and stood still for a moment. Something wasn’t exactly right. There seemed to hang about the room a kind of draft, the faintest whooshing of lingering movement and a hint of something floral. The apartment was dark and quiet and the heat pump hummed in the heavy silence. Janet flipped the light switch, hung her coat in the entrance closet and dumped her purse on the piano bench.
She flipped the light off and felt her way down the hall, crossed the bedroom floor, and reached for the lamp. As she pressed the switch, she turned around to pull down the covers on the bed, there in the center of the ivory comforter, lay a single white rose.
Janet picked up the flower. A damp outline had darkened the satin underneath. She touched the rose and her mind had difficulty reconciling the brittleness of the delicate petals. Frozen. The petals were stiff, and shattered at her slight touch. When her thumb pressed against the tip of a thorn, it pricked her skin and a drop of blood fell onto the bed.
She carried the flower to the living room and laid it on the coffee table, then sat down on the sofa and stared at the white petals that were beginnin
g to thaw and turn an ugly brown. For the flower to have remained frozen until she found it would’ve meant that it had to be left on the bed only seconds before she entered the apartment. Was that the draft she’d felt? Had someone gone out the back door just as she came in the front? Janet jumped up and ran to the French doors leading to the back patio. The doors were shut but the lock was not fastened. She gave the knob a violent twist that shot the deadbolt into place and rattled the handle to make sure the door was secure.
Although it was late, Janet turned to the only person in the world she truly trusted. It took five rings of the phone before Chelsea answered.
“Umm?”
“It’s me.”
“Oh, lord. What’s happened now?”
“Come for breakfast?” Janet asked.
“It’s important?”
“It’s important.”
“I’ll be there,” Chelsea said.
Janet hung up the phone and lay down on the sofa. She stared at the ceiling until she heard her alarm go off two rooms away.
ELEVEN
The next morning while the coffee dripped, Janet popped frozen pastries into the oven and opened a fresh jar of Heather Down grape jelly. She had just finished setting the table when the doorbell rang. Chelsea’s face was rosy from the cold and her eyes inquisitive as she slipped out of a gray cape with a fleece-trimmed hood. Her jersey dress matched her black and gray pumps. She was standard Chelsea. Perfect.
Janet reached for her cold hands and pulled her toward the sofa.
“I have something to show you.” She picked up the wilted rose; its decaying petals drooped across her palm like an ugly dead thing. “Someone left this on my bed last night.”
“Your bed?” Chelsea dropped to the sofa. “Why?”
“Not just why, Chelsea. Who? And how did they get in?”
“Locks can be picked.”
“Deadbolt locks?”
“Are you kidding? With today’s technology anything can be zapped open.”
Moonshadows Page 12
