Brenna raised her knees and pushed her hips upward. “Then finish the job.”
Hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling her nipples. “Not yet. Let’s play a while longer.”
Brenna glanced down at his dark hands curved around her white breasts. In the past they’d joked about the different colors of their skin.
She wrapped her legs around his waist. One sharp breath, and he plunged deep. He threw his head back, the cords in his neck bulging.
“Ace,” she breathed. “God, you feel so damn good. I love you inside of me.”
Grasping her legs behind her knees he lifted them over his shoulders. Powerless to speak or move, Brenna moaned her pleasure. He thrust in, pulled out and thrust again, each time harder and deeper.
The climax, when it came, took her by surprise. There’d been no slow build up. She simply exploded. Her muscles clenched around his erection.
He pumped twice and came. She basked in contentment, loving the way his hardness pulsated inside her.
A long time later, he withdrew and gently lowered her legs and rolled to his side. Brenna groaned with disappointment when he slipped out of her warmth. He buried his face in her neck and lightly kissed the moist skin. “Are you okay?”
Brenna hugged him tight. “Need you ask?”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Sex was never a problem between us.”
He remained quiet for so long, Brenna drew away and searched his face. He leaned over and brushed his lips over her mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
“No matter what?”
Before she could answer, a harsh voice echoed in the barn, breaking up their intimacy. “Colin’s barely cold and here the two of you are, behaving like a couple of barn cats.”
Ace groped on the floor for his shirt and covered Brenna, keeping his gaze steady on Doris who stood there, one hand on her hip, the other holding a burning cigarette. “What do you want?”
“There’s a social worker on the phone for Brenna.”
“Take a message,” Ace barked.
Brenna stirred beside him and sat up, clutching his shirt to her chest. “Tell her I’ll call back in ten minutes. No smoking in the barn. It’s too dangerous.”
Doris’s eyes narrowed, giving her a crafty look. “Whatever. Perhaps I should tell her what you’re up to. That’ll put an end to this nonsense about adopting a misfit child.”
Brenna stiffened beside him. He put a restraining hand on her hip and gently squeezed.
Before Brenna could respond, Doris turned on her heel and stormed out of the barn, leaving a cloud of cigarette smoke in her wake.
“Your mother has a point, Brenna. Hear me out,” he said, when she opened her mouth to protest. “We’ve just found each other again. There are plenty of hurdles we need to cross.” Like the fact that your own daughter is alive and has been with me all along. “Perhaps the timing is wrong to adopt a child.”
Brenna slid off the straw and jerked on her clothes with no regard for the pieces of straw stuck to her body. Ace reached over and brushed some off her back.
She moved out of his reach and looked over her shoulder, the blue of her eyes cold enough to make ice. “So, because it’s inconvenient, I should let Julienne get lost in the system?”
Ace winced at her sarcasm. “No, that’s not what I meant.” But wasn’t it? He selfishly wanted Brenna all to himself. He wanted to introduce her to Kayden and have the perfect family with the happily ever after ending. The life they should have been enjoying for the past twelve years.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” She buttoned her blouse. “I’ve known Julienne since her parents blew into town. She’s a vulnerable, precious little girl, and I’d be a good mother. See you up at the house.”
Brenna walked away. He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tightening knots. He’d handled that well. Was he capable of loving Julienne and welcoming her into his home and heart?
He smiled. She was a cute little thing, with those big blue eyes and button nose. He remembered her cuddled in Brenna’s arms, her thumb stuck in her mouth. A chill ran over his skin. She kept repeating “white lady”. Did her three-year-old mind hold the secret that could crack this case?
He bolted off the bale of straw. She may have seen the person or persons who gave the heroin to her parents. Probably wouldn’t stand up in court, but would give him a good lead as to where to start looking.
Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to meet with the social worker. He fumbled into his clothes and ran out of the barn still buttoning his shirt.
Chapter Thirteen
The dismal gray sky began to spit snow when Brenna pulled into the Department of Human Resources building’s parking lot. The red digital clock on the dash assured her she was early. The trip had taken a little over two hours. The department should open in about thirty minutes.
During the drive, she’d listened to the weather forecasters rattle on about the pending storm, confirming what Ace had told her yesterday. A nor’easter churned offshore and would slam into the coast later today. Old Blue had four-wheel-drive, so the snow didn’t concern her. She’d be back on the road before the storm intensified.
She turned off the ignition, leaned back and closed her eyes. Despite being exhausted from making love with Ace most of the night, the little sleep she’d managed had been filled with recurring nightmares of being chased across the barrens by a madman. No matter how far or fast she ran, a faceless man shadowed her footsteps.
She’d woken to Ace’s soothing voice assuring her that it was just a dream. The comfort she found in his arms scared her almost as much as the nightmare. Simply breathing his scent had calmed her nerves.
Hadn’t she learned early in life not to lean on anyone? She’d forgotten her own rule once with Ace. She didn’t dare make that mistake again. He had her love, but she’d never lean on him or expect him to solve her problems.
On top of her sleepless night, worries about the upcoming interview gnawed at her stomach. That and the lack of food made her jittery as a moose who’d accidentally wandered into downtown traffic. She had to convince the social worker that she was able to provide a good home for Julienne. If they’d checked her finances, she was sunk. If? That was probably the first thing they’d done. Not to mention the fact that her brother had just hung himself in jail.
Her eyes popped open at the sound of a car pulling up beside her truck. Dark tinted windows made it impossible to see the driver. Why park next to her when the entire parking lot was available?
She watched. Waited to see who got out. The engine continued to run. A shiver of unease crawled over her skin.
For a long moment she sat motionless, undecided whether to move to a spot closer to the building. Before she reached a decision, the driver revved the engine and pealed out, leaving black tire marks on the pavement.
What the hell? Kids out looking for trouble? Impossible. Kids in this area couldn’t afford a new car like that. Not unless the parents had money to throw away, which seemed highly unlikely. Drug dealers could afford a car like that.
For the first time since she’d left Spruce Harbor this morning, she wondered at the wisdom of not heeding Ace’s advice. She tuned out the negative thoughts. Today was about Julienne.
She’d had no choice but to come. Melanie Vance, the social worker, had called early this morning to change Brenna’s afternoon appointment because of the approaching storm.
The next available appointment wasn’t until sometime late next week. Ms. Vance had said that after seeing the news reports about the Shays’ deaths on television, several other families had expressed interest in adopting Julienne.
Brenna reached across the seat and locked the passenger door, then the driver’s side. She buttoned her jacket and hunkered down in the seat to wait until the department’s doors opened.
Ace would be furious when he got back and discovered she’d left. She’d called his cell, but got his voice mail.
She’d left a message and also left him a note, hoping he’d understand that she’d had no choice but to keep the appointment.
Two minutes before opening time, a gray Toyota Corolla pulled in and parked in a space next to the brick building. Where she should have parked Old Blue, instead of coming to the back of the parking lot. A plump woman, bundled like Nanook of the North, got out of the car, leaned in and reappeared with a briefcase. This had to be Melanie.
Well, it’s now or never. Straightening her shoulders, she opened the door and jumped out of the truck. The moment her feet touched the ground, she slid on a glaze of ice and landed in an undignified heap on the pavement.
She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts and fears, she’d failed to notice the snow had turned to freezing rain.
She struggled to her feet and looked behind the front seat to make sure she had a can of De-Icer and a decent scraper. Driving on snow she could handle, freezing rain was a different scenario. Especially if the temperature dropped. Then the skies would dump snow on top of an already iced-over road. Not even a four-wheel-drive truck could handle that type of condition.
Icy rain stung her face as she made the short trip across the parking lot. It took all her concentration to stay upright. Once inside, she took a seat and checked out the surroundings. The old, tattered furniture instilled a sense of depression. Nothing cheery here. The couch, covered with numerous stains, sagged in the middle. Torn fabric hung off one of chair cushions. One lonely, tilted picture of a woman holding a sleeping infant graced the far wall. Not superb artwork, yet the image reminded Brenna of her own loss.
The pain of losing her child had lessened over the years. At times, the overwhelming need to cuddle a baby would pop out of nowhere. Grocery stores were exceptionally bad places. She’d learned to shop either early in the morning or late in the evening to avoid seeing mothers with their children.
The woman who’d had arrived a few minutes ago opened a door to the right and walked towards her, a welcoming smile on her face. “You must be Brenna McKenzie. I’m surprised you traveled in this weather. I expected to find a message on my voice mail, canceling your appointment.”
Brenna shook the hand Melanie offered. “Julienne is too important to let the weather interfere.”
Melanie adjusted the glasses that had slipped down on her nose. The welcoming smile morphed to one of pity. At least it seemed that way.
“Yes, well, let’s go in my office and get this over with so you can get on the road before the driving becomes treacherous.”
Brenna’s heart sank. A decision had been made, and it wasn’t in her favor.
Ace slid out of his SUV and scanned the Gar mansion. Hard to believe someone had this kind of money in Spruce Harbor. The old sea captain’s house perched on a cliff with a panoramic view of the Atlantic. The meticulous grounds were landscaped with various fruit trees and shrubberies. Two large perennial gardens had been cleaned and mulched for the winter.
For John Gar to live here with his wife and two children, the rug importation business must be booming. Although the Gar family always had a bundle of money. Perhaps he lived off his inheritance. Byron should have that information soon. Perhaps he’d been able to dig up some dirt on the family.
Ace glanced at his watch. He’d hated to leave Brenna this morning. Had wanted to wake her up, but she’d been sleeping so soundly. After her bad dreams during the night, he’d decided it best to let her sleep.
He’d be back at the farm in plenty of time to leave for Bangor to make the two o’clock appointment. That is unless Human Services called to cancel. Although the snow hadn’t started yet, the gray sky threatened to let loose its fury at any moment. The angry surf crashed on the rocks below, determined to destroy anything in its path. Not a good day to be out on the water.
He followed the flagstone path to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Almost immediately, the door opened, and he stood face to face with a woman in her mid-forties. Short, dark curls framed a pretty face. She smiled, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Her teeth were perfect, whiter than chalk. Ace figured the beautiful smile must have cost her some bucks.
“May I help you?” she asked in a friendly tone.
“Mrs. Gar? My name’s Ace Bear. Is your husband home?”
Perfectly shaped eyebrows rose, widening her brown eyes. The smile slipped from her face. “Are you here on business? Are you buying a rug from John?”
“I’m not buying or selling anything, Mrs. Gar.” He reached into his pocket and showed her his identification.
Her face paled, and she took a few steps back into the foyer. “I don’t understand. Why would a drug enforcement agent want to talk to my husband?”
“Is he here?”
“No.” Ace noticed the slight hesitation. “He’s away on business.”
“Out of the country?”
She nodded. Ace’s gaze dropped to her hands, nervously twisting the hem of the suit jacket she wore.
Pissed that he’d missed his one chance for a surprise visit, he asked, “When will he be back?”
“Why? What’s the matter? I have a right to know why you want to interrogate him.”
Ace reined in his frustration. “I don’t want to interrogate him, only ask a few questions.”
“He’s due back on Thursday.”
Two more days. “What time on Thursday?
“His company jet lands in Bangor at nine in the morning. So he should be home by noon.”
“I’ll come by then. You have a nice day, ma’am.”
Ace turned to leave, surprised when the woman grabbed his arm. “Please, Mr. Bear. Can’t you tell me what’s wrong? Is John in trouble?”
She released his arm when he turned to face her. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, I don’t,” she started, her face no longer pale, but flushed. “I can’t understand why you want to talk to him.”
“Has your husband mentioned the heroin problem in the area? Are you aware of how serious it’s become?”
“It’s in all the papers. Of course we’re aware of the problem.” She bristled. “You aren’t implying that John has anything to do with drugs?”
“I’m talking to everyone in town, Mrs. Gar. Trying to get to the bottom of the problem. I spoke with Mrs. Pinkham just the other day,” he added, hoping to put the woman at ease.
“Ethel Pinkham?” she squeaked. “What did she say? She better not have implicated John in anything. She’s a viper. You can’t believe a word that comes out of her mouth.”
Mrs. Pinkham, a viper? He bit back a chuckle and wondered if the story about Florrie’s love child had anything to do with Mrs. Gar’s feelings.
“Sometimes, it’s a good idea to let go of things that happened in the past.”
The woman’s voice dropped so low, he leaned forward to catch her words. “Sometimes it’s impossible.”
“Do you know where Florrie’s son is now?”
Grace straightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She slammed the door. He jumped back and went ass over elbow.
He got up and brushed off his jeans. Grace Gar was lying through her ten thousand dollar teeth. No doubt about it. There were bad feelings between the Gars and Ethel Pinkham. Why would some indiscretion that happened over forty years ago still be such a sore spot?
Ace checked out the grounds as he followed the path to where he’d parked his SUV. Grace Gar got jumpy at the mention of Ethel. This was one puzzle he intended to solve.
He inserted the key in the door lock and looked up at the sound of a car engine. A gray BMW tore out of the Gar’s driveway and, without stopping to check traffic, banged a right and headed toward town. Grace Gar drove as if the devil were on her tail.
Ace slid into the seat, started the engine and sped down the road in pursuit. Once her car came into sight, he eased off the gas. He ignored the ringing of his cell phone. Voice mail would pick up. He was far too curious what urgent matter required Grace to charge out o
f the house minutes after his visit.
The Gars hadn’t attended Colin’s funeral, but he hadn’t expected them to. The two families had little in common. He imagined the Gars associated with the rich summer residents. The ones who owned fancy homes along the coast. Still, they lived in Spruce Harbor year round, so they must have some local friends. He’d ask Luther next time he paid the old man a visit.
The fine snow that had started to fall turned to a freezing mist. The roads were slick. He hoped that Grace was a good driver. The speed she traveled would make any car uncontrollable in these conditions.
As soon as he discovered what the woman ahead of him was up to, he’d call Brenna and suggest for the second time that she cancel the appointment today. If she insisted on going, he’d take her. Julienne had become the one bright light in Brenna’s future. He wouldn’t take that away from her.
The time had come to force her to sit down and talk about Kayden. Would she be happy when she discovered Kayden was her daughter? Or would she turn on him? Hate him for keeping silent all these years? The thought of Brenna despising him made his heart beat faster, matching the rhythm of the wipers slapping against the windshield. Their second chance at happiness started in murky waters. The truth needed to be put on the table before it was too late to set it straight.
The BMW slowed and pulled off onto the shoulder. Immediately, Grace opened the car door and got out. Ace mentally measured the distance and braked to be moving by as Grace maneuvered her way through the rose bushes to Ethel Pinkham’s door.
He’d seen Ethel’s car at the town hall earlier that morning. He inched along and in his rearview mirror watched Grace climb back in her car, make a U turn and head back the way she’d come. Interesting. Why hadn’t Grace called to make sure Ethel would be home. Unless she had called and went to the house because no one was home.
Ace pulled into the driveway and fought the thorns on his way to the front door. He had a mind to call a landscaper to cut the damn rose bushes. Once on the porch, he spied an envelope wedged between the screen door and the door frame.
Bed of Lies Page 12
