Secrets, Lies & Loves

by Judy Duarte

  “Hello, Sara,” he said quietly. “Are you in hiding?”

  “Yes.”

  His chuckle wasn’t one of amusement. There was anger in it, and a cool detachment she hadn’t heard before.

  He sat in one of the deck chairs. She sensed him gazing her way. Reluctantly she turned her face to him.

  “Where do we go from here?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Nowhere, I guess.”

  “No,” he said, disagreeing. “Things have gone too far for that. I talked to Mark Banning this afternoon.”

  “Mark,” she repeated, trying to decide what this meant.

  “I want him to check on certain things for me. It seems he’s already been doing that.”

  Sara was pretty sure she knew what was coming, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “He knew a lot about my family,” Cade concluded, still in that same quiet, coolly controlled tone.

  His very air of calm made her nervous. He should have been openly furious or something. Instead he seemed remote and above it all. However, she’d grown up with her mother’s unpredictable moods, so she wasn’t sure.

  “His brother works with mine,” she finally murmured after the silence lasted too long.

  “So he said.”

  “Then…you know everything.”

  “I think so,” he admitted. “Like you, I think it’s time we laid these old ghosts to rest.”

  She wasn’t taking anything for granted. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to help you and Tyler with your investigation.”

  She shook her head. In the dim glow of the city lights, she saw him nod affirmatively. “We don’t need help.”

  “I think you do. Who would be better at researching family history than the family attorney?”

  Clutching the afghan in shaking hands, she shook her head again. “Walter Parks is your father.”

  The pause was brief. “I know.”

  “I never wanted to hurt you.” She realized how lame that sounded. “I didn’t think about it like that,” she said, “in terms of pain and loss to others. Tyler and I wanted justice for our family. That was all.”

  “Justice,” he echoed, a wealth of irony in the word. “I’ll help you find it. This shadow has been hanging over our lives for twenty-five years. I agree with you and your brother. It’s time we dispelled it.”

  Questions raced through her mind, but she didn’t ask any of them. They sat there in tense silence. Traffic noises came to them at intervals as an occasional vehicle drove down the neighborhood street.

  “Mark didn’t tell me much,” Cade continued. “He said it wasn’t his story to tell. Will you fill me in? I need to know what evidence you have or what you’re trying to find out, in order to help.”

  “I can’t tell you, not without speaking to Tyler first. It’s his story even more than mine.” She couldn’t tell him why—that her half brother was also his half brother.

  The tension became unbearable before Cade nodded. “I understand.”

  “I don’t think so.” Her heart hurt, physically hurt, as she thought of him and his siblings and her own. He wouldn’t believe the duplicity of their parents—his father’s crime and her mother’s silence.

  “Do you have a witness?”

  She was so startled by the question, she could only stare at him. That action was enough to give her away.

  “There was,” he concluded. “Or you think there was. Who was it?”

  Sara’s heart pounded like a runaway train. She pressed her lips tightly together as if the answer might escape before she could stop it. She had her own questions about the past and its strange connections.

  Why hadn’t Marla brought her brother forward all those years ago and had Walter convicted for his crime?

  Even though Marla had expressed her fears of the man, obviously for good reason, her silence was something Sara would never understand. Of course, there had been the pregnancy and the twins that belonged to the murderer. That added to the tangle.

  “You’re afraid to tell me. Do you think I’ll tell my father and that he’ll murder him, too?” Cade asked with more than a tinge of sardonic amusement in his voice.

  “No,” she denied, but her voice quivered, betraying her doubts. “It’s so complicated, so unbelievably complicated,” she murmured, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms and the afghan over her legs as if to hold the tide of misery at bay. She sighed despondently.

  He observed her huddled form before speaking. “We’ll sort one thread out at a time.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll see.”

  “I hate it when children are involved,” she told him.

  He hesitated. “I heard Stacy tell you she didn’t like visiting her grandfather. She said he didn’t like people.”

  “I didn’t encourage her to talk about him,” Sara quickly said.

  Cade waved aside her remark. “I don’t think she’ll be surprised or particularly upset by anything that happens to him. He hasn’t earned her affection.”

  That struck Sara as the saddest thing of all. Children should have loving grandparents that thought they hung the moon. Her own had died before she was born or before she’d been old enough to remember them. She’d always felt she and Kathleen and the twins had been cheated out of something important because of that.

  “I think you should stay out of it,” she said to Cade.

  “I can’t. We’re too deeply involved.”

  She lifted her head and stared at him. He returned it, his face grim and determined.

  “Will you set up a meeting with your brother?” he asked. “And Mark Banning and his brother. Is there anyone else in on this?”

  “Rachel knows some of it,” Sara admitted. “She helped me get the town house…” Realizing she might have said too much, Sara let the words trail off.

  “Yes, I’d already figured a bit of collusion there.”

  “I didn’t plan the rest,” she said in a low voice. “What happened between us, the visit to the ranch and…and everything.”

  He stood and paced the deck like a caged beast. “That’s good to know. For a while, I thought maybe you’d faked your response, then I decided you hadn’t. It was too compelling for either of us to pretend.”

  “I didn’t expect it. The passion, the terrible need, like lightning inside me.” With an effort, she stopped the futile confession. “It was unwise.”

  “But good,” he murmured, so quietly she could hardly hear. “So very, very good.”

  They observed each other without speaking for a full minute. Torrents of hunger surged between them like a storm tide caused by an angry god, bent on vengeance.

  Sara stood it as long as she could, then she fled inside and locked the door behind her, not to keep him out but to remind herself that she must stay in. His arms were not the safe haven she sought.

  There was no safe place, she realized, until the past could be exposed, then decently buried for all time.

  Chapter Nine

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” Sara assured Tyler when he returned her call, an hour after she’d fled from Cade and her conscience and left a message on his phone. “Except that we think Walter killed Jeremy. And that we want to see justice done. He volunteered to help us get the truth.”

  “Huh,” Tyler said in a skeptical voice.

  “He wanted to know what evidence we had. He, uh, seemed to think we had a witness.”

  That brought a more forceful response. “The hell he did! What did you say? You didn’t tell him about our search for Mom’s brother, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t mention the lost uncle. I told him it was more your story to tell than mine. He wants a meeting with everyone who’s working on the case. You, Nick, Mark—oh, Cade apparently spoke to Mark earlier today.”

  “What for?” Tyler demanded. “I don’t like the sounds of this. Too many people are getting involved. We may as well hire a sandwich-board guy to walk around town and adver
tise what we’re doing.”

  “I think he wanted Mark to investigate something.” She paused to consider. “Us, most likely.”

  “Great,” Tyler muttered in disgust. “I’ll call Mark…No, it’s after eleven. I’ll call him and Nick first thing in the morning. Can you set up a meeting at your place for tomorrow night? Nick and I can get there by eight.”

  “Make it nine,” she told him. “Cade is busy getting his daughter to bed before then.”

  “Okay, nine it is.”

  “Should I include Rachel?”

  There was a brief silence. “Why?”

  “Well, she basically knows everything and wants to help. I don’t know if she can contribute anything, but she and Nick worked together to get me into the duplex.”

  “Hell, the more, the merrier,” her brother said. “I’ll call the mayor and see if he can join us, too.”

  “Maybe we ought to ask Walter Parks.”

  “Sure. Why not? We can just ask him point-blank if he did the dastardly deed.”

  Sara smiled at Tyler’s snort of sarcastic laughter. Their quest had taken on the air of old-fashioned melodrama. On this note, they said goodnight and hung up. She called Rachel. Her friend was still up. Sara brought the other woman up-to-date.

  “Darn, I have parent consultations tomorrow night,” Rachel complained. “It’ll be well after nine before I wrap that up, so I won’t be able to make it. Keep me informed, will you?”

  Sara promised she would.

  After turning off the bedside lamp, she stared at the dark ceiling until her eyes felt like sandpaper. Last winter, time had ticked by slowly while she’d waited at her mother’s bedside for the inevitable end. Now it seemed to be rushing forward way too fast, the hours whipping by until she wanted to ask for a reprieve and have the moment stand still while she sorted things out—how she felt, how she thought she should feel, what she wanted to happen.

  One thing for sure—she wanted all of this scheming and searching to be over. She wanted a future without questions or doubts plaguing every decision she made. She did not want to live in “interesting” times.

  Serenity. Was there such a thing?

  Cade stood at the rear door of his town house. It was twenty minutes before he was due next door. Stacy had fallen asleep before the end of the story, so he had the time to himself, as unusual as that was. Every minute of every day seemed to be taken up with obligations.

  Restless, he went out on the deck and sat on the railing. The breeze off the ocean brought the tang of salt to him. He thought of sailing off into the unknown and not coming back. A life without complications was tempting.

  Hearing movement in the other town house, he turned so he could see inside. Sara came into the den and placed a tray loaded with egg rolls, pot stickers and lots of veggies on the coffee table, then returned to the kitchen without glancing outside.

  She was dressed in black slacks with a pink silk shirt. A black-and-pink scarf held her hair from her face. He observed the movement of her slender form until she disappeared from sight. Unbidden memories flooded his mind.

  He’d explored and caressed every inch of her lissome body during their weekend at the ranch. She’d done the same to him. They’d discovered each passionate nook and cranny of the other in those stolen hours. They’d shared the quiet, contented afterglow of making love.

  Had it all been a lie? Or was she as frustrated by their conflicting relationship as he was?

  Heat spiraled low in his body. Whatever else lay between them, that part hadn’t changed. He wanted her with a hunger that surprised and annoyed him. With every thought of her, the familiar longing blazed through him like lightning striking a dry forest. Passion had been the downfall of many men, he reflected. Going to the door, he knocked softly.

  “Come in. The door’s unlocked,” she called, returning to the den with another tray stocked with fruit, several kinds of cheese and an assortment of crackers.

  She wore a worried expression, and tension was evident in the line of her shoulders. He could identify with that.

  “Is this a meeting or a party?” he asked with a certain rueful edginess to the tone.

  “Tyler is always hungry,” she explained.

  She glanced at him, then checked the trays, her manner so serious, he felt a quixotic urge to take on her burdens and ease the load she carried. He silently laughed at the ridiculous notion. He wouldn’t be a fool for a woman again.

  “Looks good, young Sara,” he said, forcing a smile.

  Pausing, she studied him as if puzzled. “Why do you call me that?”

  He shrugged. “I think the young girl I once knew is still there, hidden behind the turmoil and grief and injustice of a grown-up world.”

  She shook her head. “She’s gone, Cade. She disappeared a long time ago.”

  “Perhaps.” He knew he should leave well enough alone, but something prodded him to add, “She lives in my heart if nowhere else.”

  The golden flecks in her green eyes flashed in the lamplight. She blinked tears back with visible effort.

  “She lives in a boy’s dreams,” she corrected, giving him a defiant glance. “Not in the real world.”

  “Last weekend seemed pretty real to me.”

  A blush crept up her neck. “That was wrong—”

  He wasn’t going to let her brush the weekend aside that easily. “No, it was the one thing that was right. Everything else may be wrong, but that wasn’t.”

  “If only life were that simple.”

  “Yeah. If only,” he agreed, forcing himself to ignore the forlorn sadness in her eyes. He shrugged. “Maybe it can be, once we resolve the past and its problems.”

  “If we can,” she said.

  The three simple words expressed all the doubts she didn’t voice. He wanted to argue with her, but what was the point? She was right.

  The ring of the doorbell stopped the conversation. Sara rushed from the room to answer it. Cade heard more than one male voice. Her brother and his friends had arrived.

  He moved so that he could see down the hallway. Sara turned from hugging her brother and hugged the other two. He felt a strong stab of jealousy at her ease with the Banning brothers and reprimanded himself for it.

  Perhaps in another life in another time, he and Sara would have met and loved in the natural order of things, but not in this lifetime. Too much stood between them.

  The gods must be laughing.

  “Cade,” Sara said, leading the way to the den, “you’ve met Tyler and Nick. This is Mark Banning. You said you’d spoken to him earlier. Have you two met?”

  “Only by phone,” Cade said, stepping forward to shake hands with each of the men. The older Banning had a pretty serious scar under his right eye. Cade wondered if that was why he’d left police work and opened his own agency.

  “Please make yourselves comfortable,” Sara invited. “Tyler, there’s an assortment of drinks on the island. Do you mind playing host?”

  “Not at all, sis.” The brother followed her to the island and called out choices to the men, then prepared wine, beer, iced tea or coffee, as they preferred.

  Watching brother and sister work together, Cade was reminded of his idealistic version of marriage before his eye-opening experience with wedded bliss and the reality he’d discovered after the ceremony.

  His wife had expected maids and caterers to do all the work. She’d been furious that he’d expected them to live on what he made. A law student’s earnings, then a newly fledged attorney’s salary didn’t match her aspirations at all. Neither did his idea of living in an apartment while they saved to buy their own place.

  Interestingly, she and his dad had gotten along quite well. She’d wanted to live in the ornate mansion in Pacific Heights. Cade had refused.

  Being around Sara brought back old dreams of having a warm, loving family. At four, that’s what he’d thought his own family had been. It was only after his mother was gone that he’d realized it had been Anna who’d m
ade the children feel loved and wanted, not his father.

  Glancing at the four pairs of eyes on him, he realized Sara and the men expected him to start this meeting, or whatever one called it.

  “I suppose we should begin with what we know,” he said. “Sara and Tyler are trying to solve a twenty-five-year-old mystery regarding their father’s death.” He paused as Sara and Tyler glanced at each other. Neither spoke, so he continued, “Since the event, whether an accident or something more sinister took place on my father’s boat, that quest involves my family. I, too, want to know the truth about the drowning.”

  “Why?” Tyler challenged.

  Cade met the brother’s hard gaze, then glanced at Sara. “Because it hangs over our heads like a cloud that never goes away. I think the questions from the past must be cleared up so we can all go forward with our lives.”

  Tyler looked skeptical. “Even if we prove your father was the perp?”

  Cade nodded. He’d read the newspaper reports and had reconciled himself to the worst possible scenario. “I assume you have some kind of evidence, or else you wouldn’t have uprooted and moved here.”

  “We’re working on it,” Tyler affirmed.

  “With the help of your friends.” Cade gestured to the Banning brothers.

  “Maybe,” Tyler said.

  “I can help.”

  The brother looked skeptical. “How?”

  “I probably know more about my father’s business than anyone else.”

  “You know about Parks Fine Jewelry. Your father has another attorney for his personal business.”

  Cade returned Tyler’s challenging stare. “As he should, since I am an heir to his fortune.”

  “His ill-gotten fortune,” Sara said, anger darting through her expressive eyes.

  “So that’s what it comes down to,” Cade murmured. “Money, always money.”

  “That’s usually the problem,” Mark Banning agreed. “But in this case, a man lost his life. We want to understand how and why.”

  “So do I,” Cade said coolly. “It looks as if we’re all on the same wavelength here.”

  “Yeah? We don’t intend to deal you in just yet,” Tyler told him.

  Cade wasn’t surprised at the younger man’s suspicions. His being involved was rather like inviting the fox to guard the chicken house. “It would speed things along if I knew what we were looking for.”