Grave Secrets

by Trout, Linda

  After laying her on the bed, he began kissing his way down; her eyelids, cheek, ear. He nuzzled her neck, loving the way her pulse throbbed at his touch, with his caresses.

  “You have no idea, how…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, words failed him.

  “Ssshhh. Make love to me.”

  “Oh, God, Sara,” he groaned and did as she asked. He forgot the rest of the world and accepted her gift. In return, he took her higher than any woman he’d slept with, if her cries of ecstasy were any indication.

  Crying out his name, she fell over the edge and he soon followed.

  Braced on his elbows to keep from crushing her, he laid his forehead against hers. Still breathing hard, he periodically kissed her nose, her lips; the salty taste and her own ragged breathing a reminder of what they’d just shared. He gently ran his fingers down her cheek, across her lips.

  “Sara. My sweet Sara. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?” He wasn’t sure he’d ever had sex this good. He rolled to his side taking her with him.

  She didn’t reply. Instead she smiled, kissed him lightly, then snuggled against his chest. With one arm and a leg thrown over him, she drifted off. Totally content, Morgan watched her, a tiny grin on her lips. He’d let her rest—for a while—but no way was he done for the night. From the way she participated in their lovemaking, he didn’t think the lovely Mrs. Adams was done with him, either.

  Morgan smiled in anticipation.

  ****

  He switched off the monitor, resisting the urge to throw the remote through the damn thing. This was not a development he’d anticipated. Or wanted. All these years he’d thought Sara to be a good woman. Yet here she’d thrown herself at that nosey investigator like a common whore and taken him to her bed. Grieving widow my dyin’ ass.

  At one point he’d even played with the notion of marrying her once she got over the kid being gone, then realized she’d bore him to death. He needed a woman who’d do whatever he wanted her to do, and his preferences included getting rough. Sara wouldn’t hold up to his demands.

  He had his suspicions of what had happened to the brat and who had been behind it. If he ever found out he was right, he’d take care of that little problem fast enough. Just like he intended to take care of Sara. Nobody double-crossed him and lived for very long.

  As much as he’d enjoyed his game of cat and mouse with Mrs. Jason Adams, it was time to end it.

  Once and for all.

  Chapter Ten

  Morgan stared out the window of his two-bedroom apartment. Wearing only a pair of boxers, he took another sip of the bitter coffee, hoping it would jolt his sluggish brain into gear. He needed to shower, shave, and get ready for work, yet couldn’t make himself move. Right now he hated himself. He’d broken his number one rule—never get involved with a client. For any reason. He’d done a lot of things in his life he wasn’t proud of, let his family and friends down when they needed him, but he’d never broken his one sacred rule.

  Until now.

  The events of last night played like a broken record through his mind, haunting him. Once he’d gotten home, he hadn’t slept. How could he when he kept calling himself every name in the book for taking advantage of Sara? The woman had been vulnerable, yet he slept with her anyway. But God she had been good. No, more like phenomenal—the best sex he’d ever had. Except it was more than just sex. Sara had touched something deep inside that he would’ve sworn had been dead and buried for so long it no longer existed. Or had never been truly alive. He wasn’t sure which.

  Leaving her bed and walking out in the middle of the night had been harder than he’d thought. She’d looked like an angel laying there with the sheet barely covering her breasts. At least the haunted look had left her eyes. That was something. He wondered why she’d become so hysterical when she’d walked into the nursery. Had things really been moved by someone else, or had she done it and not remembered? If so it could mean the early signs of a nervous breakdown.

  He’d seen his mother go through similar actions, yet the whole family chose to ignore them. No one wanted to acknowledge she had a problem until it was too late. Even then they hid the fact she’d committed suicide from the public. Which was none of their business, anyway. Still, the family ignored the obvious and swept it under the rug, never talking about it even when he’d tried. Maybe if they had, he wouldn’t have started acting up and eventually wound up in trouble. Because of Pete and Nona, he’d pulled himself out of the quagmire of his crappy life and started over, vowing to never let anyone else down again.

  Except he had. Andy was dead because he hadn’t been there for his friend when he should’ve been. So far he didn’t have any concrete evidence Sara had been involved in his or her husband’s deaths, just little bits and pieces that wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. He’d wanted so badly for everything to fall into place like a neat package. Of course it hadn’t. Life just didn’t work that way. Now he’d gotten too close to the situation…and her.

  Even after he’d made love to her, three times no less, he still wanted to stay and see what she looked like when the sun came up. Wanted to wake her slowly with his kisses, with his caresses. He wanted her. Period.

  “Fool,” he muttered as he tossed the last of the coffee into the sink, then rinsed the cup. One way or the other, he had to make this right. It didn’t matter he might not get justice for Andy, he had to tell Sara everything. She’d poked a big hole in the shell around his heart, and he couldn’t turn his back on her now.

  Morgan ignored the voice yelling at him to stop and think this through. Resolute, he headed toward the bathroom. He’d go back to Sara’s and bring everything out in the open, then go from there. She’d understand. He hoped.

  Before he was halfway across the kitchen, the phone rang. The office.

  “Yeah?” Impatient, he didn’t want to be distracted.

  “Boy, aren’t we in a mood this morning?” Charlene stated. “I’m calling to remind you about the new client, Mr. Patterson, coming in this morning and didn’t want you to be late.”

  He silently cussed. He’d forgotten all about the appointment. He hadn’t wanted to take on any new clients. However, he still had a payroll to meet. If he didn’t prove Sara was involved with her husband’s death, then he wouldn’t get the bonus from the insurance company. Which meant paying the bills this month might be a bit tricky.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Stall him if I’m late.”

  “Don’t I always?” She paused. “Morgan? Are you all right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Really?”

  He never could hide anything from her, so he gave up trying. “No. I will be by the time I get there.” He hung up without waiting for a reply and continued his trek down the hall. It promised to be a long day.

  ****

  Sara stretched, then snuggled deeper into the covers. Morgan’s scent lingered on the pillow. She smiled as she pulled it close, keeping him close. Nothing would have made her happier than if he could have spent the entire night. Waking up in his arms, making love again before sharing a leisurely breakfast, would have been a dream come true.

  Blowing out a deep sigh, she knew it wasn’t possible. It wouldn’t be right for his SUV to be in her driveway all night. At one point, he’d told her he didn’t think she had anything to do with Jason’s death. Or Andy’s. She flinched as she recalled when she started to tell him about her and Andy. Then he’d kissed her and all conscious thought had evaporated as they made love.

  Morgan valued the truth. He’d made that clear on more than one occasion. The first opportunity she got, she had to tell him everything. Regardless of the consequences. For now, she was going to bask in the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her.

  He’d made love to her like a demon, as if she were an angel to be cherished yet he’d been unable to get his fill. If he walked in the door this minute, she’d gladly welcome him into her arms, into her bed. Into her life.

&
nbsp; “Oh, my, God!” She bolted upright.

  She was falling in love with Morgan Daniels. Guilt that she was finding happiness when she should still be grieving Jason and finding Kaycee washed over her. Although, she knew in her heart Morgan had come to mean more to her than she’d ever intended. She’d fallen for the stubborn, hard as nails, oft times cold as stone man who had a heart and soul worth hanging on to. She smiled while a warm glow of contentment spread throughout her body.

  As she slipped out of the guestroom bed, she realized she hadn’t had any nightmares, hadn’t heard Jason’s voice during the night. Now if everything else in the house was in its rightful place she’d be okay. Maybe she just needed a distraction. At any rate, it seemed as if her hallucinations were gone. For the time being, anyway.

  After showering, she donned a linen top and pair of slacks. Feeling rested for the first time in weeks, Sara decided to work on cleaning out Jason’s office and padded downstairs. She’d previously gone through the box Maxine had sent over from the office. Now it was time to tackle the job she’d put off for months, finally having the inner strength to either box up or discard his personal possessions. Perhaps it was having Morgan in her life, but she was ready to let go of a part of her past.

  Time to move forward.

  With a glass of sweet iced tea, she settled behind the huge desk and pulled open the top left drawer. There wasn’t much. Some office supplies, pens, notepads, a couple of plaques he’d received for some of his civic contributions. She held one up, read the inscription, and smiled inwardly as the memory crystallized. It had been a hot summer afternoon, sticky with humidity, and he was accepting the award from a local kid’s playground civic organization. He’d furnished baseball uniforms for the little league, which allowed the underprivileged boys to look decent and not in the rag tag hand-me-downs they’d had to use for years. For once they had been able to walk onto the field with their heads held high.

  She’d been so proud. Jason had been preoccupied and not as attentive as he should have been during the presentation. She had attributed it to problems at the company, which had been happening more and more. She’d asked him about it, but he’d dismissed her concern, saying it was nothing. Finally, she’d stopped keeping track of company problems and had left it to him as she became more involved with women’s charities, then later with her pregnancy.

  She set the plaque aside, intending to box it up with the rest of the mementoes of his life to show Kaycee when she was older. Pain slammed into Sara’s chest. Had Kaycee gotten her first tooth yet? Who tucked her in at night? Did they cuddle and rock her when she cried?

  How much of her daughter’s life did she have to miss? She shuddered, then swallowed the longing and emptiness—swallowed the tears that were always close to the surface when she thought of her daughter. Morgan would find her. Sara knew it without a shadow of a doubt.

  Ruthlessly, she went through the rest of the drawer, sorting the items she would keep, ones she would throw away and ones she would store. Her life with Jason was over, but it could never be forgotten. Even if she was falling in love with Morgan, Sara had to keep Jason alive for Kaycee’s sake. She had a right to know her father. Besides, she wasn’t sure where a relationship—if you could call it that—with Morgan would go. For now, she’d take it one day at a time.

  After a couple of hours, she’d finally gone through all the drawers except the middle one. He’d had a habit of keeping his most personal items here, and she dreaded it the most. Sliding the drawer out, she was surprised at how cluttered it was. All the other drawers had been fairly organized. One for civic duty stuff, one for file folders, receipts and such. This one, however, held the personal mementos she’d given him over the years, so it was the most tender to her heart.

  She lovingly sorted through the items, finding she was able to throw more away than she’d expected. Scraps of paper with notes jotted on them, things he needed to do, had done, but hadn’t gotten around to discarding the note. Trinkets from trips they’d taken together in their early years, a card she’d given him just to let him know she loved him, his checkbook, extra ink pens and paper clips.

  To her relief, it was going faster, and without as much pain, as she’d anticipated, easier than she’d thought. As she reached into the far corner of the drawer, thinking she had everything, her fingers brushed another piece of paper. Pulling it out, she almost tossed it, when she stopped. A memory tugged at the recesses of her mind. There was something familiar about the aqua blue paper, the texture, the numbers scribbled in purple ink in her handwriting.

  Of course! It was the combination to the wall safe. The one she’d totally forgotten about. What could still be left in there? On the far wall, between the bookcases was a Norman Rockwell print and behind it, the safe. Reaching under the bottom right corner, she pressed a small lever. The picture swung to the left, revealing the steel door. After reading the numbers on the slip of paper only once, she recalled them as if she’d written them down yesterday. Deftly she tumbled the dial right, left, then right again, gripped the handle and tugged the door open.

  Most of their important papers were in the safe upstairs. Which explained why she’d forgotten about this one. But now she found a large pile of papers and receipts stacked inside. What in the world? She pulled out a handful and dropped them on top of his desk. Picking up the top one, her bottom lip trembled.

  “You remembered,” she whispered. The receipt was from the most expensive jewelry store in town for a diamond and emerald bracelet. An anniversary gift for their first date, just like when they were first married. Clutching the receipt, she made a quick check of the safe.

  She dug everything else out, but the bracelet wasn’t there. “What did you do with it, Jason?” She chewed on her lip. And why hadn’t he given it to her? The anniversary had been two weeks before he’d died. Was it still at the jewelers? Surely they would have contacted her before now, to either deliver the bracelet or credit the account. The receipt was dated a month before his death.

  She scrutinized each of the receipts, sorting them by type and date. There was one for a resort in Tahoe, a lodge in Wyoming, and a spa in North Carolina.

  None of which Sara had visited.

  She thought back to all the times he’d been gone on business trips. So why hadn’t he been at the hotels where he’d told her? She remembered each occasion, because she’d wanted to go with him several times. He’d refused, saying she’d be bored since he’d be in meetings all day and most of the night.

  There were receipts for lingerie and a novelty shop—she didn’t want to speculate on what was purchased there—as well as tickets to see ZZ Top. That was odd. He’d always insisted they attend the opera. Why would he be going to a rock concert?

  Bile rose in her throat as a sinking feeling settled in her chest.

  A long legal looking envelope peeked out from the stack of receipts. She pulled it out of the pile and slid the document out of the folder. Time stood still as she scanned the details. It was a deed for a house. A house she knew nothing about.

  Finally she focused on the names. Jason Adams and Melissa Long.

  She started shaking uncontrollably—couldn’t breathe—as tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked. A white hot poker skewering her couldn’t have hurt worse. Jason had been distracted for more than a year before his death, but she’d attributed it to work. An affair had never crossed her mind. And apparently not just any kind of affair. He’d bought the woman a house! Not to mention the jewelry and trips, from the looks of all the receipts.

  Unable to stand looking at the evidence of her husband’s infidelity a second longer, she swept it all off into the floor, and glared at the scattered pieces of paper as if they were a festering wound. She jumped from the chair, deliberately twisting the receipts underfoot as she stormed out of the room that had once given her solace and comfort.

  When she reached the hallway she stopped, trying to decide where to go. Every inch of the house reminded her of him. O
f the love and life they’d shared, but everywhere she thought to go had been “his.” Except one. She turned toward the sunroom, her refuge. Once there, she crumpled into a heap on the loveseat and let the hurt out and allowed her heart to break. Laying her head on her arms, she sobbed.

  She’d thought losing him to death had been devastating, only this was far worse. The realization she’d lost him long before he died hurt beyond words. She cried so hard, she thought she’d cough up her insides. She cried until she didn’t think she had any tears left. Then she’d recall the other woman’s name on the deed, and the tears would start anew.

  Exhausted, she finally fell asleep, only to wake later with a crick in her neck. The pain that had so consumed her had now evolved into a dull numbness. It was as if she had no emotions left. Pushing off from the couch, she headed to the kitchen and splashed water on her face. With steel determination, she walked back to the study. Not one shred of his life was going to be unknown by the time she was through. Sara wanted to know every minute detail of Jason’s sordid affair.

  With her foot she scooted all the receipts into a pile, scooped them up, and dropped them back on the desk. Without looking at who they were from or what they were for, she started sorting by date. Call it perverted curiosity, but she had to know when the affair started. When all the pieces of paper were stacked chronologically, she checked the date on the first one. It was almost two years ago.

  Two years. And she’d never had a clue.

  “You bastard,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Too bad you aren’t here now. I’d show you the ‘proper’ way to conduct myself, you lying, self-righteous hypocrite.” Furious did not come close to the emotions rolling through her.

  One by one she went through the receipts, noting how the gifts started out relatively small, then escalated; how the trips began as an overnight stay, then evolved into week-long excursions.