Bed of Lies

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Bed of Lies Page 10

by Pam Champagne


  She spread jam on her toast and heaved another sigh. It was too late for the “what if” game. Yet, shedding her burden of guilt didn’t seem likely in the near future.

  Ace hadn’t stirred when she’d climbed out of bed this morning. Soon after supper last night he’d closeted himself in the den. She’d heard him talking on his cell while she’d washed dishes. He’d been typing on his laptop when she’d peeked in to say good night.

  Not knowing how to fix the problem between them, she’d pretended to sleep when he climbed in bed at two a.m.

  She fully intended to help Ace find those responsible for the drugs. She owed that much to Colin. After pouring a third cup of coffee, she sank onto a chair and nibbled her toast. The sweet blueberry jam she’d slathered on the top activated her taste buds. The last few days had taken a toll, physically and emotionally.

  Most of the town had showed up at Colin’s funeral. A few came out of curiosity, many because they sincerely cared. His friends had filed past the casket in shocked disbelief. Perhaps her brother’s death would serve as a wake-up call for some of them.

  Ace had stuck to her like pitch from a spruce tree while he watched everyone with an eagle eye. If he’d seen or heard anything suspicious, he’d not shared the information. For the past few days, they’d hardly spoken.

  For four nights they’d slept in the same bed without touching. Ace had rejected her suggestion that he take Colin’s room, insistent she not be alone.

  Brenna tensed at the shuffle of her mother’s slippers on the floor behind her. “Coffee’s ready,” she said without turning. She didn’t feel up to a confrontation. Why hadn’t the woman slept in this morning?

  After a coughing fit, her mother managed to ask, “How long is he staying here?”

  “You really should stop smoking.”

  A mug slammed on the table, sloshing coffee over the sides. “Don’t lecture me.”

  Against her better judgment, Brenna raised her gaze and looked into her mother’s bloodshot eyes. “As usual, you drank too much yesterday.”

  “For Christ’s sake, give me a break. I just lost my son.”

  “We both know you don’t need an excuse to drink.”

  “No fighting, ladies,” Ace entered the room. “Let’s have a peaceful morning.”

  Doris pounded a clenched fist on the table. “There’ll be no peace in this house until you’re gone, Ace Bear. You’ve brought grief to everyone you’ve ever touched.”

  Ace raised his eyebrows and helped himself to a cup of coffee. “Sorry you feel that way. Get used to me. I’m a permanent fixture here. Just like this toaster,” he added as he plopped two pieces of bread into the slots.

  The fierce pounding behind Brenna’s eyes made her nauseated. A full-blown migraine lurked close by, waiting to attack. “Mama, please. I have a headache.”

  “Mama, please, I have a headache,” her mother mimicked. “When don’t you have a headache? Your life has been nothing but one huge headache.”

  “Be quiet, Doris,” Ace commanded. “If you can’t be civil, go elsewhere.”

  Ace winked when Brenna mouthed a thank-you. She still wasn’t accustomed to his shorter hair. Even though it brushed his collar, the style was very different from when he’d arrived in town. He’d denied it when she’d asked, but Brenna knew he’d cut his hair out of respect for Colin.

  Her mother began to cry. Soft whimpers. A corner of Brenna’s heart ached to comfort her. Brenna knew what it was like to lose a child. She also knew her sympathy would be rejected. “I’ll be outside.” She grabbed her coat off the hook by the door and escaped into the fresh air.

  Ace busied himself preparing a meal of fresh eggs, slab bacon and homemade wheat bread. He ignored Doris weeping at the table.

  He bit into the toast while he cooked the eggs and bacon. “Who made the bread? It’s delicious.”

  Doris stopped crying. “What?”

  “The bread. It’s homemade. I have a hard time picturing you kneading bread.”

  “Brenna. She bakes about twenty loaves once a month. Sells most of it to some bakery in Ellsworth and freezes the rest.”

  Ace laughed. Doris looked like she’d just swallowed vinegar. He said, “You make it sound like she’s doing something criminal.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed, then she smiled. Not a friendly smile. More of a sneer. “You’ve still got it bad for my daughter, don’t you? That’s why you’re hanging around here.”

  Ace tensed. He didn’t intend to discuss his feelings for Brenna with anyone, least of all Doris McKenzie. “I’m here because someone tried to blow your daughter out of the water. Doesn’t that concern you?”

  Doris shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Here.” He pushed a plate in front of her. “Eat some breakfast. You should start taking better care of your health.”

  “What for?” she asked, eyes downcast as she used her fork to push the food around her plate.”

  “You’ve got a daughter. Or how about for your grandchildren?”

  The fork fell from her hand, clattered on the plate and bounced to the floor. “I don’t have grandchildren.” Her vehement denial surprised Ace.

  “Is that right?” He dug into his eggs with relish. “Guess I’ve been misinformed. Could have sworn you had a granddaughter. Let me see,” he added, “she’d be about twelve now.”

  The coffee cup shook uncontrollably on the way to her lips. She finally gave up and set it on the table with a thud. “Does Brenna know?”

  The pounding of his heart roared in his ears. “Know what?”

  Doris smirked. The devious look in her eyes made Ace regret ever starting this game. Yet, he felt a certain relief to have it in the open.

  “She doesn’t know, does she? What do you think she’d do if she found out? Think she’d still want you around?”

  Doris had effectively served the ball to his side of the court. He had a choice. Retreat or attack. He’d never been one to run from a fight. Ace ignored the old adage “a good run is always better than a bad stand”. “I think she’d be damned pissed that you and her father lied by telling her the baby died.”

  Doris’s gaze skittered away from him. She swallowed several times, took a deep breath then gave him a withering look. “She’d hate your guts for keeping the child from her all these years.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded and continued to eat. “Then again, I had good reason not to contact her. Remember? Daniel told me Brenna wanted to give the child up for adoption. I had no reason to doubt him. After all, I’d been in jail.”

  “It’d be your word against mine,” Doris challenged, her quivering chin held high. “Do you want to take the chance Brenna will believe me and turn on you?”

  Did he want to risk losing Brenna? Hell no! But there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d let this vindictive woman know that. He maintained a calm aura, though his heart slammed against his ribcage. Amazing she couldn’t hear it. “Go for it, Doris. We’ll find out which one of us she believes.”

  Her gaze wavered and fell away from the intensity of his. “No reason to do that. Colin’s death is enough to deal with for now.”

  Ace shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Your choice.” He picked up a crisp piece of bacon and munched, never taking his eyes off her. “I’m curious, Doris. How did your husband manage to convince Brenna that her baby had died?

  Doris’s hand shook so bad coffee spilled onto the table. She managed to get the cup to her mouth and took a swallow. “I told him not to do it.” She kept her eyes on her plate. “Brenna was devastated when you left her…and so ill. The doctor said she might not make it.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “She hemorrhaged, you know. After the birth.”

  The thought of Brenna suffering needlessly increased his guilt and stoked his anger. “Why did the doctor allow Daniel to tell Brenna her child had died?”

  Doris toyed with her silverware, once again not meeting his gaze. “Daniel had a way with people. Besides, the docto
r didn’t know Brenna thought the child had died. Daniel told the doctor and nurse that Brenna was guilt-ridden that she’d given the baby up for adoption. He convinced them she needed to be sedated. Daniel had her moved to a private nursing home the next day.”

  She slipped a cigarette from the pack on the table. “The doctor left town soon after. I suspect that Daniel had something to do with that. He had more connections than the governor.”

  Ace tamped down the fury rising in his chest. “And the document that Brenna signed giving the child up for adoption?”

  She took a deep breath. “Daniel told her it was part of the paperwork for the death certificate. Brenna was sedated and grieving. She didn’t even read it.”

  Doris shoved her plate toward the middle of the table. “I’m not hungry,” she mumbled, pushed her chair back. Ace watched her shuffle out of the kitchen like a ninety-year-old woman.

  Ace continued eating his breakfast while the conversation he’d just shared with Brenna’s mother banged around in his head. He’d pretty much figured out what had happened the night his daughter was born. Hearing the truth from Doris gave it life. Brenna had never once suspected her parents’ treachery.

  Regardless of his feelings about Daniel, he worried about Brenna’s reaction when she learned the truth. She’d lost her brother, and now she’d lose whatever love and respect she had for her parents. Not to mention how she’d feel about him.

  Pushing away from the table, Ace picked up the plates and carried them to the sink. He opened the refrigerator to put away the milk and stared at the contents.

  The fridge held enough food to feed an army. Seemed like everyone in town had dropped off something—casseroles, pies and desserts. Two cooked turkeys, plus a ham and a pork roast.

  He eyed the chocolate cream pie, his and Brenna’s favorite. One more thing they had in common. Someone needed to package and freeze the food before it spoiled.

  Unless Brenna tackled the job today, he’d do it tonight. Memories of being hungry in his childhood always sat in the back of his mind.

  He picked up the last piece of bacon and took a bite, savoring its salty taste while his gaze skimmed the kitchen. Not exactly homey, but functional. No magnets or pictures on the refrigerator door like in his own kitchen.

  The thought of magnets triggered an urgent need to talk to Kayden. It’d been too long. He glanced at the clock. She’d be eating breakfast with her grandmother now.

  He pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial. On the third ring, panic welled in his chest. Where were they? The he heard his daughter’s musical voice. “Daddy?”

  His muscles relaxed and he smiled. “Hi, sweetheart. How’d you know it was me?”

  “Caller I.D., silly.”

  Ace closed his eyes and imagined her standing near the table, hand on her hip, a huge smile on her face. “How’s school going?”

  “Can’t wait to get out. Am I going to spend the summer in Canada with Nuuhkum?”

  He already knew the answer, but asked anyway. “Do you want to?”

  Ace heard tears in her voice. “Only if you’re coming, too.”

  “I have to work, but I think I can manage a few weeks off.”

  Like a fast moving thunderstorm, Kayden’s sadness disappeared. “Okay. Gotta run. The bus is outside. Wanna talk to Nuuhkum?”

  “No. Tell her I’ll call later. I love you, Kayden.”

  “Love you, too. Here’s Nuuhkum. She wants to talk to you.”

  Damn. Now he’d get the third degree. He waited patiently, listening to his mother give Kayden everyday instructions to behave at school. At last she came on the line. “Ace?”

  “Hello, Mom. How’s everything going? Any problems?”

  “I should be asking you that question.”

  His mother had openly voiced her disapproval about returning to Spruce Harbor. When numerous arguments hadn’t swayed him, she’d given up.

  “Investigation’s going slow,” he answered and gained a grunt from the other end. “Kayden doing okay?”

  “Misses you.” His mother’s tone held a hint of reprimand.

  “My job takes me away from home at times. You know that.”

  “I know. It’s just that—”

  “You’re worried I’ll fall under the spell of some evil woman,” he joked, hoping to make light of the situation.

  “Is that so far-fetched?”

  Ace laughed. “Not to worry. I love you—” The words no sooner left his mouth when there was a muffled sound from behind. He half turned and saw Brenna standing in the open doorway, eyes wide, her face the color of chalk. “I’ve got to run. I’ll call in a few days.”

  He flipped the phone shut and rose to face Brenna, waited for her to say something…anything. How long had she been standing there? How much had she heard? He gathered the remaining silverware on the table and carried them to the sink. “Hi. I was just coming outside to find you.”

  She brushed at her eyes. “Is that right? Sure didn’t sound that way to me.”

  “That was my mother.”

  “Who’s Kayden?” The words came out like chips of ice from a soda machine.

  Damn it. “A little girl.”

  Brenna’s gasp filled the room. “Your…your child?”

  “Yes, I—”

  She raised a hand. “Please.” Tears now pooled in her eyes. “Spare me the details.”

  “I tried to tell you the other night…in the cabin. Remember?”

  Brenna turned her back. He ached to hold her, but accepted that she wanted distance. Shit. He hadn’t wanted her to find out about Kayden like this. “There’s more that you need to know.”

  With a violent shake of her head, she whirled to face him, the tears in check. “Is there a wife waiting at home, too?”

  “No!” he denied, his tone harsher than he’d intended. “Of course not. You don’t think that I…” Her anxiety-widened eyes told him that was exactly what she did think. He reached out to caress her face.

  Brenna flinched from his fingers. The love of her life had loved another woman enough to bring a child into the world. A daughter. Would her pain be as great if he’d had a son?

  She reminded herself that twelve years was a long time. It was only natural that Ace had fallen in love.

  His voice jarred her from her disturbing thoughts. “Hear me out.”

  “Where’s your daughter’s mother? Is she still in your life?”

  “That’s what we need to talk about. I—”

  Doris rushed into the kitchen, tripped over the scatter rug and grabbed a kitchen chair for balance. Her gaze darted frantically between the two of them. “Where’s the fire extinguisher? My cigarette fell in wastebasket…”

  A smoke alarm blared from the hallway.

  Brenna rushed to take the red extinguisher off the wall by the refrigerator. “Where? What room?”

  “Bathroom.”

  “One of these days, you’re going to burn the house down.”

  Brenna was relieved at her mother’s interruption. She wasn’t ready to hear about Ace’s daughter and the woman he’d once loved—or still loved for all she knew.

  Ace took the fire extinguisher out of Brenna’s hands and headed toward the bathroom. “I’ll take care of it. Perfect timing, Doris,” he said. Brenna frowned at Ace’s sarcasm and the flush on her mother’s face.

  “What shall we do with Colin’s clothes?”

  Whoa! Her mother had jumped off the deep end. She started a fire in the bathroom and now she was worried about her son’s clothes? “Don’t worry. I’ll help. We’ll drop them at a Salvation Army in Bangor.”

  Ace returned to a tension-filled kitchen to report the fire was out. A huge lump in Brenna’s throat made it difficult to breathe. She caved in to her urgent need to escape the bad vibrations. “Excuse me, I’ve got work in the barn.”

  Ace followed her to the door. “We haven’t finished our conversation.”

  She gripped the doorknob and looked back at him. The lines
in his face were more pronounced than usual. Only Ace could see into her soul, and right now she didn’t want to let him in.

  She tore her gaze from his and glanced at her mother. Her face was as white as the unlit cigarette she held between her fingers. God only knew what problem plagued her. “Later, Ace. I’ve no time now.” She slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind her.

  Her foot no sooner stepped off the porch step when the tears came. The intense pain in her chest took her breath away. One major hurdle after another. How could life be so unfair?

  Brenna tried to rationalize the latest hurt. Of course Ace had moved on. It wasn’t his fault that she hadn’t.

  She ended up in the barn with no memory of actually walking there. She stumbled to an empty horse stall and sank to her knees on the fresh straw. With no one around to witness her grief, she gave her emotions free rein and cried. Gut wrenching sobs. The longer she cried, the sadder she became.

  A warm hand settled on her shoulder. She squelched the desire to turn her face and kiss his skin. Ace. Oh God. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She reached back, covered the hand cupping her shoulder and squeezed. When he dropped to his knees beside her, she twisted toward him and went into his arms. She raised her lips to capture the warmth of his mouth and her heart stopped. “Trent! What are you doing?”

  “Colin wouldn’t want you grieving like this,” Trent murmured against her hair. Brenna squirmed to escape. In the struggle they toppled onto the straw.

  “Let me comfort you. God, Brenna, do you know how often I’ve dreamed about holding you?”

  Brenna put her hands on his chest and pushed. “Trent,” she croaked. “I thought you were…I didn’t realize…” How could she tactfully tell this kind man that she’d thought he’d been someone else? Before she could explain further, his mouth swooped down and caught her open lips.

  For a few seconds Brenna relaxed. Until his tongue poked between her lips. She shoved him away.

 

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