Hidden Talents

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “I wasn't Gordon, the cousin you had resented all of your life, but I was his son. That was close enough, wasn't it? You transferred your resentment of my father to me. And when you got the call telling you that there were nude photos of a woman with whom I was having an affair, you jumped at the opportunity to avenge yourself on me.”

  “No, it wasn't like that.”

  “I think it was exactly like that,” Caleb said wearily. “You wanted to make certain that I didn't find what my father found for a while, what you yourself had never found.”

  “What was that, damn you?”

  “Happiness.”

  19

  I'VE BEEN THINKING,” SERENITY SAID THE FOLLOWING EVEning as she went about preparing dinner. “That man Zone thought she saw in the fog the night Ambrose died must have been Firebrace. We assumed it was Royce Kincaid come to terrorize her, but Kincaid himself said he'd only appeared once at her window.”

  “You're right.” Caleb concentrated on the bottle of wine he was in the process of opening. “It was probably Firebrace. Based on what he told the cops, the timing fits. And the car that Blade heard driving down the road shortly after midnight must have been his.”

  “Jessie told us she had left around eleven.” Serenity selected a knife from the kitchen drawer and went to work on a pile of vegetables for the curry dish she had planned. She only bothered with the elaborate dish, which required a wide variety of exotic spices, on occasions when she was expecting company.

  The rice was cooking in the steamer, and a row of small condiment bowls containing chopped peanuts, raisins, chutney, chives, candied ginger, and coconut sat ready on the counter. She had made Caleb stop at a wine shop to select a couple of bottles of expensive chardonnay before they drove back to Witt's End this morning. They had spent the night in Seattle because the interview with the police took most of the afternoon.

  Serenity surreptitiously glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. Dinner would be ready in half an hour, and there was still no sign of Roland Ventress. She was trying to maintain an outwardly calm facade, but her insides were starting to twist themselves into knots. She had been so certain he would come.

  Caleb was in his full stoic mode, acting as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary. He was calm, cool, and in control, as usual. He was not sneaking glances at his watch, as far as Serenity could tell. He hadn't mentioned the possibility of his grandfather arriving for dinner. It was as if he didn't even recall that the invitation had been issued.

  But then, Caleb's expectations had been much lower from the start, Serenity reminded herself. Close to zero, most likely. He had never believed that his grandfather would come.

  She, however, had convinced herself that Roland would take advantage of the excuse she'd provided him to salvage his relationship with his grandson. She was counting on Roland being too smart to repeat the errors of the past.

  The table had not yet been set. Serenity dreaded doing so because then she would be forced to make the decision regarding the number of plates. She could not bring herself to put out only two plates tonight. But she also knew that it would be far worse to set the table for three and have one place setting remain unused. It would be like having a ghost for dinner.

  “Are you going to tell your grandfather about what really happened to your parents?” Serenity asked as she attacked a potato with her knife.

  “Most of it. He deserves to know the truth.”

  Serenity looked up as Caleb poured the wine into two glasses. His face was carved in stone, his eyes unreadable. He was waiting, too, she suddenly realized—listening for the sound of a car in the drive; wondering if there would be a knock on the door.

  Waiting, but expecting nothing. He was good at this kind of thing, she thought. But then, he'd had a lot of practice.

  “What about Franklin's role in things all those years ago?” Serenity asked quietly. “Are you going to tell Roland about that, too?”

  Caleb hesitated. “Probably not. What would be the point? Franklin's got a wife and a son. Grandchildren. They'd all be hurt if the past got thrown in their faces at this stage. And they don't need to know how loyal he still is to his romanticized version of his affair with Patricia.”

  “I wonder why your father never told Roland the name of the man who was having an affair with Patricia.”

  Caleb was quiet for a moment. “He probably figured he was already doing enough damage to the family. There was no need to do more by naming Franklin as Patricia's lover. It wouldn't make any difference, anyway.”

  “And being a Ventress, he was probably too proud to bother trying to justify his affair with Crystal,” Serenity said.

  “Probably.”

  “So he protected Franklin, and that no doubt made Franklin even more resentful,” Serenity said.

  “Why?”

  “It would have made Franklin feel weak. What a mess. He had always resented Gordon, but after Patricia left Ventress Valley because of the scandal, and Franklin saw his own happiness forever doomed, at least to his way of thinking, his bitterness grew worse.”

  “He blamed the fact that she left on my father.”

  “The bottom line,” Serenity said, “is that she probably didn't love him at all. She was unhappy with your father, feeling trapped three thousand miles from the life she knew, so she turned to Franklin for comfort and consolation. But she didn't really love him.”

  “No.”

  “And deep down Franklin must have known that.”

  “Just one more reason why he could never forgive my father.”

  “Or you,” Serenity said.

  “Or me,” Caleb agreed. “But then, that's no big deal. No one else in the family ever forgave me, either.”

  Serenity slanted him a quick glance. His face was still expressionless. “I suppose Franklin reacted so strongly to news of my pictures because he desperately wanted to believe you were Gordon all over again. He wanted to think you were doing what your father had done, that you'd gotten yourself involved with someone who would shame the family. It justified all his bitterness. Verified his belief that you and Gordon were both unworthy of being Ventress heirs.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Serenity sought for a way to change the subject. “Lucky for us you were a championship player on your high school baseball team.” She recalled the rows of trophies in the glass cabinet in his grandfather's house. “You saved our lives with your pitching skills. You must have had a heck of a coach.”

  “My grandfather was my first coach,” Caleb said without inflection.

  Serenity stopped chopping vegetables. “Really? Roland taught you to pitch a baseball?”

  Caleb picked up his wineglass and looked at her. “You know how you keep saying that we all have bits and pieces of other people stuck to us?”

  Serenity touched the griffin that hung on the chain around her throat. “What about it?”

  “I think I'm beginning to see what you mean.”

  “Caleb—”

  “He's not coming tonight, Serenity. I told you that he wouldn't be here. I wish you hadn't gotten your hopes raised.”

  “If he doesn't come tonight, he'll come this weekend. I know he will.”

  Caleb shook his head once, with grave certainty. “No.”

  “I can't believe he would be so rigid and unbending and so stupidly stubborn.”

  “He's a Ventress,” Caleb said.

  “Okay, I'll admit it appears that a talent for that kind of thing does run in your family. I still can't believe he won't have the sense to do what he can to change the past.”

  “Some people don't want the past changed. Take Franklin, for example.”

  The sound of an engine in the driveway shocked Serenity into silence. Her eyes locked with Caleb's.

  “Someone else,” Caleb said gently. “Montrose or Ariadne.”

  “No, I don't think so.” Serenity flung down the
towel and raced for the door.

  A blast of cold air hit her like a wave as she stepped out onto the front porch. The glare of headlights blinded her. She put up a hand to shield her eyes so that she could see who was getting out of the car.

  Caleb emerged from the cottage and casually put one hand on her shoulder.

  The car door on the passenger side slammed shut with an air of decisive finality. A tall, broad-shouldered figure stalked forward to stand silhouetted in the lights. It was impossible to see his face against the blinding glare, but Serenity had no doubts as to the visitor's identity.

  “I'm so glad you could make it, Mr. Ventress,” she said as she went down the steps. “You're just in time for dinner.”

  Roland swung around as the car started to back out of the drive. “Where the hell do you think you're going, Harry?”

  “Be back later, boss,” Harry called cheerfully as he gunned the engine.

  “Much later,” Serenity murmured. “Come inside, Mr. Ventress. We have a lot to talk about.”

  As it happened, they didn't have a lot to discuss. By the time the meal was concluded, Serenity was getting desperate. Her hopes, which had soared so high a short while earlier, were having trouble even staying aloft now. Roland and his grandson were indeed having dinner together, but they seemed to have nothing to say to each other.

  “More curry, Mr. Ventress?” she asked.

  Roland looked at her. “No, thank you. I've had enough.”

  Serenity gave Caleb a beseeching look. “What about you, Caleb?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Well, then, I'll get the dessert.” She jumped to her feet and began to clear the table. “I hope everyone likes lemon pie.”

  “Fine with me,” Roland said.

  “Tea, anyone?” Serenity offered.

  “No thank you,” Roland said.

  “No thanks,” Caleb muttered.

  “Coffee?” Serenity prodded.

  “No thank you.”

  “No thanks.”

  Serenity started to panic. She had exhausted all the usual sources of dinner conversation. The weather, including the possibility of snow, had been the liveliest topic so far. It had lasted for nearly five whole minutes. Roland had shown a brief interest in the curry ingredients, but that subject, too, had quickly waned, as had a short chat about the state of the mountain roads.

  She was a desperate woman, Serenity decided as she sliced into the lemon pie. Desperate measures were called for if the evening was to be salvaged. Something had to be done to break the ice. She glanced out the window as she carried the plates of pie back to the table. The darkened bulk of the glass-walled hot tub room loomed in the shadows.

  Perhaps it was easier to melt ice than to break it.

  “I have a terrific idea,” Serenity said as she set the pie in front of Caleb and his grandfather. “Why don't you two try out the hot tub after dinner?”

  Caleb choked on a forkful of pie. “The hot tub?”

  Roland looked thoughtful. “Do you know, I've never been in a hot tub.”

  “I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Very relaxing,” Serenity said brightly. She ignored Caleb's strange expression. “You two will have to go in alone, however.”

  “Damn right,” Caleb said. “You sure as hell aren't going in unless you can dig up a swimsuit.”

  “I've got one somewhere,” Serenity murmured. “But I'm not going to go look for it. I plan to stay out of hot tubs for a while.”

  Caleb scowled. “Why?”

  “For the same reason that I won't be drinking any alcohol for the next several months,” Serenity said serenely. “I'm in training.”

  Roland beetled his bushy gray brows. “In training for what?”

  “To have a baby.”

  Caleb's chair toppled over with a crash as he got to his feet. “You're what?”

  “Getting in training to have a baby,” Serenity said patiently. “It's time.”

  “You're going to marry her, then?” Roland eyed Caleb from the other side of the bubbling hot tub. The lights were off inside the glass-walled room, but there was sufficient glow from the cottage windows to reveal his glowering expression.

  “As soon as possible.” Caleb stretched his arms out along the rim of the tub and settled back. A brief memory of his first experience in this room flitted through his mind. He remembered the first time he had touched Serenity's lovely breasts, the enthralling way she had caught her breath and clung to him as the gentle convulsions of her first orgasm shook her. He smiled to himself.

  “Just as well, I guess,” Roland grumbled. “Especially if she's serious about having a baby.”

  “I take it that the notion of me marrying Serenity is preferable to the thought of the Ventresses being forced to endure the embarrassment of having another bastard in the family?”

  “I never thought of you as a bastard,” Roland muttered.

  “No?” Caleb looked at him with cool disbelief. “How did you think of me?”

  “As my grandson,” Roland said quietly. “The only one I had. You were all that remained to me of Gordon.”

  Caleb exhaled slowly. “Bits and pieces of other people.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It's not important. Just something Serenity keeps saying.”

  “She's an unusual young woman.”

  Caleb watched the hot water churn. “Yes, she is.”

  “Did you know that she contacted Dolores yesterday morning?”

  “No.”

  “Sent word that Phyllis and Franklin had tried to buy her off.”

  Caleb frowned. “I didn't know about that.”

  “She told Dolores that she wouldn't deal with them. Said if anyone was going to try to buy her off, it would have to be me. And I'd have to come here tonight to do it.”

  Anger sliced through Caleb. “I didn't hear about any of this.”

  “Expect she didn't intend for you to hear about it.” Roland paused thoughtfully. “I knew what she was up to right away, of course. Knew she was trying to force me to make the first move.”

  “Is that why you came here tonight?” Caleb asked. He should have known. He should have guessed that Roland was here only because he'd thought he might be able to buy off Serenity.

  “No,” Roland said. “There's not enough money in the world to buy off a woman like her. I knew that from the start.”

  The warmth of the hot water seeped slowly back into Caleb, driving out the cold in his guts. “But you came anyway.”

  “Figured I had nothing to lose by accepting a dinner invitation,” Roland said. “Hell, maybe she'll be good for all of us. God knows it probably pays to get fresh bloodlines into a family now and then, just like it does in horses.”

  “There is that.” Caleb kept his tone neutral, but he was secretly stunned by the massive olive branch Roland had just offered. “There's something I need to tell you.”

  “About what?”

  “The past. It's a long story.”

  “I don't think it's a good idea to talk about the past anymore,” Roland said. “Let's just let it rest in peace.”

  “We've never been very good at letting it rest in peace, have we?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Maybe we can after I tell you what happened yesterday in Seattle.” Caleb wondered where to begin. Then he recalled the family portrait of himself and his parents. “First, there's a picture I think you should see.”

  “A picture of what?”

  “Me and my parents.”

  Roland seemed to sink deeper into the frothy water. “Didn't know there were any pictures of you with them.”

  “There is. One. It was hidden in my mother's jewelry case. And it led me to some answers to a lot of questions that should have been asked a long time ago.”

  “All right,” Roland said. He sounded as if he was bracing himself for battle. “Tell me what you found.”

  Something made Caleb glance out into the night at that moment. Shadows moved in the
darkness. Two massive canine heads appeared at the glass walls of the hot tub room. They were followed by a large, familiar figure draped in great quantities of lethal-looking hardware.

  “Hell,” Caleb said. “Not now.”

  Blade made a fist with his gloved hand and pounded softly on the glass. “Got to talk to you,” he mouthed.

  Roland straightened abruptly in the tub and stared at the figure on the other side of the window. “Who the devil is that?”

  “His name is Blade.” Caleb climbed out of the hot tub and reached for a towel. “Don't worry. He's a friend.”

  “Looks like something out of a goddamn war movie.”

  “Yeah.” Caleb opened the door. Cold air, dogs, and Blade moved into the steamy room.

  “You got visitors,” Blade said. He stared at Roland.

  “As a matter of fact, we do,” Caleb said. “My grandfather. So unless this is something really urgent, Blade, I'd like to suggest that you come back some other time.”

  “It's urgent, all right.” Blade turned back to face him. “Invasion's started.”

  “Again?” Caleb asked.

  “What invasion?” Roland demanded. He stood up in the hot tub and grabbed a towel.

  “Don't ask.” Caleb waved his grandfather into silence. “Okay, Blade, let's take this from the top. What makes you think the invasion has begun?”

  “Someone's nosing around Asterley's cabin.”

  “Asterley's cabin? Are you sure?”

  “Probably the point man. More'n likely the rest of the commando team is on hold at the bottom of the mountain, waiting to see if this guy can secure a fire base. Stop him and we got a chance of nipping the invasion in the bud.” Blade indicated the clothes that Caleb had left on a hook. “Better get dressed. Ain't got much time.”

  Roland scowled in the shadows. “Would someone mind telling me just what in blazes is going on here?”

  “I'm not sure.” Caleb started to dress. “But it looks like we'd better take a look. The last time Blade discovered a point man for an invasion force, things got real serious.” He hesitated. “Want to come along?”

  “Hell, why not? Seems to be my night for doing a lot of crazy things.”