Grave Secrets

by Trout, Linda

“I was going down Riverside Drive when I saw the red convertible. At first I thought it was your friend, then I finally saw you.” He glanced around. “Where’s Ms. Walker?”

  “She isn’t here.” Sara resisted the urge to squirm. His intense gaze cut right through her, and she would swear he could see things she’d rather not reveal to the world. Then he’d blink and that intensity would be gone.

  “And she lets you drive her car?” He whistled appreciatively. “Nice friend!”

  “She left the car with me while she’s out of town. The day’s so pretty I thought I’d take it for a drive.”

  “That it is. Care for some company?” Without waiting for a reply, he cupped her elbow and directed her down the path in the direction she’d been headed.

  At least he asked first. Sort of. “Actually.” She paused just long enough to make him stop and look at her in question. Sara liked their light-hearted banter. It gave her a nice relief from the constant and oppressive pressure she experienced every second of every day worrying about Kaycee. “I would love the company.”

  He gave a brief nod, then silently began walking again, his hand warm against the small of her back. She smiled at the familiar touch, loving the connection. When was the last time Jason had been so attentive, had touched her in such a casual but affectionate way? She couldn’t remember. Usually, when they were out, he’d be a half step ahead of her, eager to greet a business associate or golfing buddy, assuming she’d follow. Which of course she did. He hadn’t always been callous, and she’d assumed the longer people were married, the less they touched. At lease in public.

  She glanced up to see an older couple holding hands as they walked down the pathway toward Morgan and herself. When they were closer, her breath hitched. Their graying hair, wrinkled skin, and slow gait only added to the obvious love they felt for each other. How she envied them. Would she ever find that kind of love? She didn’t think she’d had it with Jason. Not in the last few years, anyway. The couple passed them as if she and Morgan weren’t even there and continued on their way. Sara glanced back in time to see the old man plant a quick peck on his wife’s weathered cheek. Tears sprang to Sara’s eyes, but she blinked them away.

  “You okay?” Morgan asked when she turned back around.

  She gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  He studied her face a moment as if he didn’t believe her, then let the matter drop. She wasn’t sure she could explain her emotions if he pressed for an explanation.

  For several minutes, they strolled without speaking, the sounds of water lapping against the shoreline several feet below floating in the air. Tall oaks lined the trail, casting enough shade to keep her from perspiring. Bronze wildlife statues of elk, bear, and eagles on native rock piers dotted the landscape. Occasionally a runner or biker passed them. Each time, Morgan would move her to the side to allow access, as if he were protecting her. Was that why she felt safe around him? Because more than once he’d been her protector? Don’t go there. He’s a private investigator, so he probably does that sort of thing all the time. It’s nothing personal. For it to be anything else wasn’t in the realm of possibilities. Not for her. Not now.

  “Have you heard from Detective Cannon?” he asked.

  She glanced at him but couldn’t read his expression. “No. I thought perhaps you had.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not the next of kin. I have connections, but that doesn’t automatically give me access to details of a case.”

  Knowing the results of the autopsy would go a long way in getting one chapter of her life resolved and closed. More important to her at this point was finding her daughter. She’d hoped he would have brought it up first, and she’d been loath to ask, not wanting to break the comfortable silence they’d lapsed into. Besides, if he’d had any news, he would have already told her.

  “You did say it’d take a while to get the results.”

  “Yes, but I’d hoped they’d speed it up because of…”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. She knew he meant because of the poor baby found in Jason’s grave. “Have you made any progress in…in my case?” She’d almost said “our” case. Why had the thought even crossed her mind? He wasn’t involved except as the investigator.

  “I’ve checked all adoptions that occurred during that time, anyone suddenly showing up with a baby no one knew about beforehand, and so far haven’t had any luck. It’s almost as if the kid dropped off the face of the earth.”

  Sara stopped in mid stride. Surely he didn’t believe… “It isn’t her!” Somehow, she had to convince him.

  He gazed at her intently, his dark eyes searching her face.

  “I haven’t found any proof one way or the other, but over the years I’ve learned to trust my gut. There’s a bond between a mother and a child, so I’m going with your instinct. I’m looking for a live baby, not a dead one.”

  Her pent up breath rushed out. She grabbed his arm with both hands. “Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much hearing you say that means to me.” If Morgan believed Kaycee was alive, then she knew he’d find her. If anyone could, it was him. Whether a mothers’ instinct or wishful thinking, it was hard to tell. Either way, Morgan would get the job done.

  Just the thought of Kaycee in her arms again made her fingers itch. She wanted it so badly she could see it, taste it, feel it in every bone in her body. They would find her. All they had to do was look in the right place, or turn the right corner at just the right time to see her. It was just a matter of time. That and persistent searching.

  Never give up. Sara had made that her motto, and she’d never let it go. Ever.

  ****

  Morgan had no idea what had possessed him to say what he did. The words were out of his mouth before he knew it. The look on Sara’s face was more than he could stand and for whatever reason, he wanted to give her hope. In reality, he figured her baby was dead. Dead and buried in her husband’s grave.

  But what if Sara was right and the baby they’d dug up wasn’t hers? Then whose was it? Maybe he should take a different tact and concentrate on finding out the dead baby’s identity. He needed to talk to Reece again and find out if he’d gotten an idea of when the autopsy results for Jason Adams would be back.

  Morgan needed to rule out the possibility the dead baby wasn’t Sara’s. Even if the body wasn’t involved in the supposed murder of Jason Adams, it was still a dead baby. If they wouldn’t do a cross between the husband and the baby, then they should at least do a cross between Sara and the baby. He’d find out.

  After a walk in the park with the lovely—and enticing—Mrs. Adams.

  He stole a glance at her. This was the most casual he’d seen her, and he liked it. She didn’t seem so much like a plastic Stepford wife. Not that she was, but she did a superb job of pretending to be one. That spotless house and no visible help. Which made him wonder what her husband had been like. Maybe he should dig a little deeper into Adams’ background. Was there more to the medical claims company he’d owned than what was presented to the public? Were they totally legit, and would it stand up to an in-depth audit? Hmm. Warranted checking out.

  “Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be?” she asked.

  “How much longer what will be?”

  “Anything. Everything. Even though I hired you, getting information out of you is close to impossible,” she said, clearly exasperated.

  “Hasn’t Charlene been calling you?” He was puzzled by her outburst. What was it with women?

  “You know full well she has. And it isn’t the same as you calling me yourself. I think I have a right to hear it directly from the person I hired.”

  She stood her ground and glared at him, looking altogether too sexy and more human than he’d ever seen her. Even when she’d fainted in his arms, she’d still been the prim and proper socialite. He paused, scowling at her. The stubborn woman didn’t back down.

  Impressed, he finally relented. “I’m sorry. In
the future, I’ll personally apprise you of any and all progress.”

  Her eyes flew wide before she quickly regained her composure. “I have a feeling you don’t do that very often.”

  “Do what?”

  “Apologize.”

  She was astute. He laughed. “I don’t, so don’t push your luck.” He grinned to soften his words.

  He thought about what he’d planned to do for the day, and goofing off on the river walk definitely hadn’t been on the agenda. He was expected elsewhere and of all the people on this planet, these were ones he wouldn’t let down. Under any circumstance. But maybe just a few more minutes with Sara wouldn’t hurt. At least she looked more relaxed today, bringing a youthful appearance to her features. She might not be the type of woman he normally went for, but she sure appealed to him.

  “I have to run a personal errand this afternoon. Want to tag along?”

  She looked at him quizzically, then smiled. “Yes, I think I would.”

  Asking Sara to come had been an impulse. He told himself it was to keep an eye on her, but knew deep down he simply wanted to spend more time with her. Their kiss kept replaying in his mind, tasting her soft lips again also held a certain amount of appeal. First he needed to do something about her clothes.

  “You got a pair of jeans in that closet of yours?”

  ****

  Sara squinted at Morgan. What was he up to? And what was wrong with the way she was dressed? She looked casual enough to stroll comfortably on river walks, yet could walk into a high fashion boutique and not be looked down on. After all, linen went with everything and everywhere. She decided it didn’t matter. Spending time away from the house and in someone else’s company was better than being alone, wondering when she’d start moving furniture in her sleep instead of just the smaller items that seemed to have sprouted wings during the night.

  She cocked her head and placed a hand on her hip. “I believe I can come up with a pair. Next you’ll tell me I’ll need boots as well.” She pointedly looked at his feet. A good looking man in tight jeans and cowboy boots. Oh, yeah.

  She groaned inwardly. Cat was starting to rub off on her. Sara would have to remember to drop her an e-mail and tell her all about this. Cat would get a big laugh out of it and tell her it was about time she started living again. Soon, Sara promised herself. Very soon.

  “Boots wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  That took her aback. Puzzled at what he had in mind, but willing to find out, she turned toward the parking lot, realizing they’d walked further than she’d thought. It was easy to lose track of time and distance when she was with Morgan. He cupped her elbow again, setting a brisk pace. When he had a goal or purpose in mind, nothing slowed him down. Not even her. The warmth of his touch banished the lurking monsters that taunted her.

  Half an hour later she’d changed clothes. Standing in the foyer of her house, Morgan faced the drawing room but turned at the click of her boots on the staircase. His jaw dropped as his eyes flew wide. If she wasn’t mistaken, he even took a step back.

  Heat crept up her neck and for the first time in years, she felt self-conscious. Maybe she shouldn’t have put on these jeans. But going along with her “start living again” theme, she’d deliberately chosen this particular outfit. She wore a pair of Wranglers she’d bought a couple years ago, before she’d given birth. Funny how her hips had spread, causing the pants to be a little more snug than she normally wore them. Judging by the desire in Morgan’s eyes, the skin tight jeans, form fitting peach shirt, and dark tan books met his approval

  A slow smile spread across his face.

  “Um, will this do?” She shouldn’t have asked, but being admired went a long ways toward bolstering her level of self-confidence. And sanity.

  “Lady, you couldn’t be more perfect.”

  Chapter Nine

  Watching Morgan was worth the discomfort of the overly tight jeans. It was exactly what she needed.

  Finally, he blinked. “You ready?”

  He’d composed his features into the mask he wore so well, but she’d already seen the desire darken his eyes. “You might want to leave a light on. I’m not sure when we’ll be back.”

  He remembered. “Thanks. I’ll do that.” She snagged the denim jacket she’d left on the banister, collected her purse, making sure the stuffed rabbit was inside, turned on the entryway light, then set the alarm before heading out the door. Morgan tested the lock, then she climbed into his SUV, feeling right at home amongst the clutter. It felt wonderful to go from the usually spotless house to the mess in his vehicle. Just like her life. It had previously been orderly, spotless, totally organized. Now bits and pieces were slowly being strewn about, and she had no way to stop it. Or clean it up.

  “Sorry,” he muttered as he scooped up a handful of discarded wrappers and pitched them into the back floorboard. One of these days she’d clean it out for him.

  She paused. What was she thinking? Although cleaning had a therapeutic effect on her, he hadn’t asked anything of her. Yet she still wanted to do something for him. Cleaning his vehicle could just possibly be it. She’d wait and see.

  Refocusing on Morgan as they headed down the street, she took a minute to admire his profile. The hard planes in his face were still there. Except she’d seen underneath the surface and knew there was more to the man than he projected to the world. He really liked to come across gruff, but that wasn’t all there was to him.

  “Will you tell me now where we’re going?” She didn’t really care, she simply wanted to goad him.

  He glanced at her, held her gaze a second too long considering he was driving, then said, “To help a friend.”

  He left it hanging, left her hanging. Why couldn’t men just spit it out? Why did they have to be so cryptic? Or was this payback time for her giving him a hard time earlier? She couldn’t blame him if it was. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it, Nana used to say. A pang of loneliness hit Sara, but she forced herself to think of the here and now. She refocused on Morgan. He sounded serious, but then, he always sounded serious. “Doing what? I thought maybe we were going to a rodeo.”

  He didn’t even glance at her. “You ever been to one?”

  She wanted to smack him. “Of course. What do you think I am? Some stuck up snob who’s never been outside the country club?”

  With a shrug, he said, “Sorry. Didn’t know.”

  So much for stroking her ego. “Now you do.”

  “You like sports?”

  “Actually, I do. I love following the WNBA. I like to see women get recognition for their abilities.”

  He sat silent a moment, then a grin cracked his face. “Ever been to a donkey basketball game?”

  “Uh, no. Can’t say I ever have. What is it?”

  “Just what it sounds like. You have two teams competing against each other, except the players are sitting on top of a donkey.”

  She’d never heard of such a thing. “So they’re in the middle of a rodeo arena?”

  “No. It’s in a gym.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her and winked. “Where else would you play a game of basketball?”

  “How do they control the donkeys?” He had her attention now.

  “They don’t. The animals have a mind of their own. And since they ride them bareback, they wind up falling off as much as they’re on their back. It’s a riot.”

  She laughed. “Is that the voice of experience?”

  “Yep. Tried it once, which was enough. Don’t think they have them anymore, though.”

  “That’s a shame. I wouldn’t mind watching one of those.”

  “Have to tell you, watching from the sidelines is a lot funnier than actually being on the court. I fell off so many times my butt hurt for a week afterward.”

  She laughed, visualizing Morgan and a donkey butting heads. With Morgan losing. “I’ll bet. Still, I wouldn’t mind watching you make a fool of yourself if
I had the chance.”

  He curled his lip. “Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart.”

  That put a halt to the laugh that had bubbled out of her. Sweetheart. He hadn’t said it in an endearing way, yet she liked the sound of it on his lips. She cleared her throat to make sure her voice came out even and not with a squeak. “Since you had me put on jeans, I’m assuming we’re going to the country.”

  “You got it.”

  Oh, good grief! “Has anyone ever told you your cryptic speech patterns are extremely annoying?”

  “Charlene says so all the time. Except she’s not quite that nice. Don’t know what her problem is, either. She should know me by now.”

  “How long has she worked for you?”

  “Almost since I opened shop. Waltzed in one day and refused to leave. Couldn’t blast her out with a stick of dynamite.” He chuckled at some untold memory that he didn’t share.

  “How long have you been in business?” She’d gotten him to talk about sports, showing a side of himself she’d never seen before. Maybe he’d talk about his business. She’d always been curious about private investigators. Too many cop shows when Jason worked late, she supposed. At any rate, she enjoyed their banter. Or maybe she’d taken a lesson from Morgan himself and had started asking questions as if she were an interrogator. She grinned, wondering how it felt to have the tables turned on him.

  He drove in silence for awhile. Then said, “Long enough.”

  So much for getting him to open up. Resigned, she sat back and watched the countryside slide by. Where in the world were they going? It seemed as if they drove for miles, leaving the city further and further behind. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “If we aren’t close to our destination, you’re going to have to find me a restroom. You didn’t say it’d take half the day to get there.” Her skin-tight jeans weren’t helping her bladder any.

  “We haven’t been driving for very long. Besides, we’re almost there.” He glanced at her, and the heat in his eyes practically melted her.

  And here she thought he was upset with her. Not hardly. Apparently her last question didn’t upset him as much as she’d thought.