The Wrong Woman

by Linda Warren

  When she heard the cars leaving, she went into the den to talk to her grandmother.

  “Are you tired, Gran?” she asked. Aurora sat in a large wing chair, eyes closed and feet propped up.

  “A little.”

  “I’d like to talk about my mother.”

  Aurora’s eyes flew open and she sighed. “Serena, I don’t understand why you keep bringing this up.”

  “Because it’s important to me. I’d like to know more about my parents.”

  “I’ve told you all you need to know,” Aurora said in a sharp tone.

  “I’m not ten years old, Gran,” Serena replied just as sharply. “And I don’t appreciate it when you treat me that way.”

  “Oh, darling, don’t get upset with me,” Gran pleaded. “I just don’t like talking about them.”

  “Why?” Serena wanted to know. “Jasmine was your only child, yet there are no pictures of her in this house. It’s like she never existed.”

  Aurora’s lips tightened. “She broke my heart when she chose that man over me and your grandfather. I had all her things put in the attic. I didn’t want any reminders.”

  Serena swallowed hard. “Why, Gran? Why do you hate my father so much?”

  “He wasn’t a nice person,” came the clipped answer. “And I raised Jasmine with high standards. Standards that he flouted.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He took Jasmine from me out of spite.”

  Serena’s eyes narrowed. Gran was talking as if she knew John Welch very well. She remembered the other conversations she’d had with her grandmother, and something here didn’t ring true. “You said you didn’t know anything about John Welch, yet—”

  Gran cut in. “I just get angry when I think about that man and what he did to my family.” Gran fingered the pearls around her neck with a nervous hand. “It’s so long ago now and I’m tired of talking about them.”

  Gran was lying. Serena got to her feet, knowing it was useless to talk to her; Gran wasn’t going to let go of years of resentment and bitterness. Still, Serena wanted to find out why. As she went back to the study, she kept thinking that maybe her mother was alive. Oh, God, could her mother be alive? The ringing of the phone stopped her thoughts. She immediately yanked it up. It was Ethan, and she’d never been so glad to hear anyone’s voice in her life.

  “Have you found her?” was all she could say.

  “No,” Ethan said, and her spirits sank.

  “She wasn’t at the strip club?”

  “No, they said she was sick.” He sounded put out and she wondered why.

  “Then she’ll be back, won’t she?”

  “I’m not sure. Since it was Saturday I was almost positive she’d be there.” A long pause.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked when he didn’t say anything else. There was definitely a quality in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

  “I believe in honesty. If clients lie to me, there’s not much I can do to help them. You once asked me if I was lying. Now I’m asking you, Serena. Are you lying to me?”

  Now she understood the problem—he thought that since the stripper hadn’t appeared they could be one and the same person. “No, I’m not,” she said earnestly. “I am not the stripper. Please believe me. But I have to know who she is.”

  She could almost feel his relief. “Okay, I’ll go back tonight.”

  “Thanks, Ethan. I’ll wait for your call.”

  Serena hung up the phone and noticed the caller I.D. Ethan was staying at a motel in Dallas. As she stared at the name, an idea formed in her head.

  AFTER HEARING her voice, Ethan felt better. She wasn’t lying. He believed her, and he never took a case unless he believed the client. On this one, he’d been waffling back and forth so much he was beginning to doubt his instincts. Her soft voice confused those instincts completely, something that had never happened to him before. He’d feel like a fool if he was wrong about her, but deep inside he knew he wasn’t.

  He decided to stake out the club to see if the redhead went in or out. He spent the afternoon watching the back entrance, but mostly saw service and delivery people. As afternoon grew into evening, a few girls trailed in, but they were blondes and brunettes, no redheads. The building was a two-story, and he glanced at the top floor. He wondered if any of the girls lived on the premises. It was certainly possible.

  Bored with the inactivity, he called it quits. He’d check the club later when things were livelier. In the meantime he drove to the police station. He had a friend who worked narcotics; as far as he knew, Daniel was still on the force. He wanted to ask him some questions about Rudy Boyd, but unfortunately Daniel was out on a case. Ethan felt as if his whole day was wasted. He returned to his room, showered and changed for the evening, then drove to the nightclub to talk to Travis. Molly was getting dressed, so they had a few minutes alone.

  “What do you know about Rudy Boyd?” he asked.

  Travis shrugged. “Not a lot. He hired me about a year ago, but I’ve seen very little of him. He has clubs all over Dallas—he’s a very busy man. I’ve seen more of him since Molly’s been here than I have the whole of last year.”

  “What’s his interest in Molly?”

  “Damn, Ethan, you’ve been on that ranch too long. What do you think his interest is?”

  “Be realistic, Travis. Molly’s my sister and I love her, but she’s thirty-five and Rudy Boyd seems more the type to go for twenty-year-olds.”

  Travis shifted in his seat. “Yeah, I thought that, too, but maybe he’s tired of empty-headed twenty-year-olds. Whatever, I figure Molly’s old enough to know what she’s doing.”

  Ethan rose to his feet. “You just keep an eye on her, because I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Ethan, don’t go looking for trouble.”

  “I’m not. I’m just being cautious.”

  “Too cautious, if you ask me. There’s more to life than work.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Ethan said.

  “Aren’t you gonna watch the show?”

  “No, I don’t want Molly to think I’m spying on her.”

  “Really.” Travis raised an eyebrow. “Where would she get an idea like that?”

  Ethan gave him a piercing look and left.

  AT THE STRIP CLUB, Ethan’s night was a repeat of the night before. The redhead didn’t appear. Tonight, though, the place was packed and there wasn’t any room to sit. He stood for a long time, watching and waiting, then made his way to the bar, hoping to talk to the bartender.

  “What’ll you have?” the man finally asked after serving several other men.

  “A draft, light,” Ethan said.

  When the beer was placed in front of him, Ethan said conversationally, “I was hoping the redhead would strip tonight.”

  The bartender frowned. “You got a thing for her?”

  “Yeah. I’d sure like to meet her.”

  “In your dreams, buster,” the barman muttered.

  “I’m good at dreaming,” Ethan replied casually, trying to sound like a normal customer. “Any idea when she’ll be here again?”

  “You ask too many questions, mister.”

  The man was nervous. Ethan could see it in his eyes and the way he kept looking over Ethan’s shoulder.

  A big man pushed between Ethan and the man beside him. “What’s the problem?” He spoke to the bartender.

  “This one—” he nodded to Ethan “—is asking a lot of questions.”

  “About what?”

  “The redhead.”

  The man scowled. “The girls are off-limits. Now get your ass out of here.” As he said the last words, he grabbed Ethan by the collar. Ethan’s arm came up and knocked the man’s hand away.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ethan said in a steely voice.

  They faced each other. The other man, evidently the bouncer, was big and muscled, but Ethan was the same height and he wasn’t backing down. The bouncer got the message.

&
nbsp; “Just leave and I won’t,” the bouncer finally said.

  Ethan stared at him for an extra second, then left the bar.

  Sitting in his truck, he tried to figure out what had just happened. Questions about the redhead made everyone nervous. Why? The club’s goal was to draw customers and to keep them coming back, so it made no sense to discourage their interest in any of the strippers.

  Something was going on with the redhead—and it wasn’t good.

  THE BOUNCER stabbed out a number on a cell phone. “We got problems,” he said. “Someone’s asking about the redhead.”

  “Who?” the voice on the other end asked.

  “Don’t know. Looks like a cop—Texas Ranger type.”

  “Goddammit, where is he now?”

  “I threw him out.”

  “Good, and keep a close eye on her. Call me if he shows up again.”

  “I will, but I don’t like this.”

  “Don’t worry. Everything should be over in a few days.”

  ETHAN OPENED his motel-room door and froze. The lights were on. He’d turned them off when he left, he was positive. Slowly he inched the door wider and stepped inside. Someone came up on his blind side. He reached out an arm and grabbed the person, and they tumbled onto the bed. Ethan realized two things almost instantly. The person was a woman and the woman was Serena. He recognized that perfume. His hold loosened and his body relaxed, but Serena kicked out with her legs and knocked him to the floor—on his bad hip. Pain shot through him and for a moment he was paralyzed.

  “Ethan, I’m so sorry.” Serena fell on her knees beside him. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” he lied, and struggled to his feet. If she offered to help him, he’d explode. He sank onto the bed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Are you okay?” she said quickly, avoiding his question.

  “What are you doing here, Serena?” he repeated in a tight voice.

  She sat beside him—so close that he could breathe in her delicate scent. He wanted to ask her to move, to get as far away from him as possible, because he was in a mood that did not bode well for either of them.

  “I just couldn’t sit at home any longer, and when I saw the name of the motel on caller I.D., I decided to drive over.”

  How could he let something like that slip by him? “Damn, I’m getting too old for this job.”

  “You think you’re old?” Her voice revealed surprise.

  Right now he felt about ninety and her presence wasn’t helping. “How did you get in here?”

  “Well—” she twisted her hands. “They don’t give out room numbers easily. I told the guy at the desk that I was your wife and that I wanted to surprise you. He gave me the number but no key. When I got here, the maid was putting fresh towels in the bathroom. So I just walked in. She didn’t speak much English and she obviously assumed the room was mine. I didn’t correct her assumption. I’ve been waiting for you since early evening. I was about to go crazy.”

  Ethan was tired and his hip was throbbing and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with Serena Farrell. Silence reigned as he tried to figure out what his next step should be.

  “Ethan.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Did you see her tonight?”

  He drew a much-needed breath and turned to look at her, then wished he hadn’t. Her eyes were bright with expectation. She had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—he wasn’t a man who usually fell for beauty. When he was younger, beauty had attracted him first, but as he matured, honesty, faithfulness and kindness attracted him more. But looking at Serena, he didn’t really care about any of those qualities. That threw him and he decided he must’ve been watching too many women strip. He’d thought he was unaffected by the performances, but clearly he’d been wrong about that.

  “Ethan,” she prompted when he didn’t answer.

  “No, I didn’t see her,” he said.

  “Oh, no. I was hoping…”

  At the anxiety in her voice, he added, “But I have a strange feeling about that place.”

  “Why?”

  “Because everyone got real nervous when I started asking questions.”

  “They did?”

  “Yep, and they weren’t giving out any information, either.”

  “So, she’s still there.”

  “That’s my guess. I’ll try again tomorrow night.”

  She fidgeted nervously. “I can’t afford to pay you for another night. I suppose I could go myself, but I’ve never been to a strip club. The activities are probably more than my imagination will allow.”

  “It’s not a day at Sunday school,” he told her. “But don’t worry about it. The next night will be on me.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” she said. “Your time is valuable.”

  “I want to find out what’s going on in that place for reasons of my own, so we’ll call it even. Now I think we should both get some sleep.”

  She didn’t move or say anything.

  “Something wrong?” he asked guardedly.

  “No. I knew it would be late when I saw you, so I told my grandmother I had business in Dallas and would be spending the night. There’s a No Vacancy sign outside, and I didn’t want to leave in case I missed you.” She should’ve left earlier, but she’d wanted to see Ethan. Now the thought of driving around looking for a room wasn’t appealing and neither was the prospect of going home. She could stay here with Ethan. He had a big room with a sofa. As the idea crossed her mind, she wondered where it came from. It was so unlike anything she’d ever contemplated; Ethan was a stranger and male, and that alone should make her think twice about such a situation. But for some reason, she didn’t fear him or worry that he’d take advantage of her.

  He sighed, not wanting to think about what this meant.

  “Do you mind if I stay here? I can sleep on the sofa,” she offered quickly, suspecting she’d lost all common sense. She should just go home. But, somehow, she wasn’t inclined to leave…and she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I really don’t want to drive back to Fort Worth this late. I’ll explain it to your wife.”

  “I’ve been divorced for ten years.” He knew he didn’t have to tell her that. The fact that she thought he was married would have kept a barrier between them, but he was always honest. It was a code he lived by.

  “Oh.” Her eyes grew big. “Then there isn’t a problem.”

  Yes, there is. “No” was the word that came out of his mouth.

  Silence. A long, tense silence.

  Ethan wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to get her out of here so he could deal with his hip, but he hated to see her on the road this late. Still, being in the same room with her all night, especially when he was in pain, was more than his nerves could take—probably more than he could take under any circumstances. But how did he say no to her? Did he even want to say no to her?

  “Tomorrow you’re going home,” he said firmly. “But for tonight I guess you can stay here.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled. “I’ll go grab my bag.”

  He took a deep breath as she went out the door, then got to his feet. The pain was bad, but he managed a couple of steps, then several more. He hobbled into the bathroom and rummaged through his shaving kit until he found his painkillers. He hardly ever took the damn things, but this was one of those times he had no other option. He swallowed two and returned to the bedroom.

  SERENA UNLOCKED her car and grabbed her overnight bag. She couldn’t stop smiling. Ethan wasn’t married. She didn’t understand why that made her feel so good, but it did. She liked him—a lot. His warm eyes, his strength of character, his confident, capable manner were all very appealing. In fact, she found him appealing in every way. Except for one little flaw—his stubborn pride. He didn’t want her to know he was in pain. She could tell that he was by the tightening of his jaw. She’d seen that look on her grandfather’s face after his heart attack; he never wanted anyone to know he was in pain, either.

>   Serena winced as she recalled how she’d kicked Ethan off the bed. She hoped he’d tell her about his injury, although she doubted he’d do so willingly.

  She walked back to the room feeling a sense of excitement. With Ethan’s help, she knew they’d find out who the redhead was. Then all her questions and suspicions would be answered. And getting to know Ethan was a big plus…

  BY THE TIME Serena reentered the room, Ethan had himself under control. “Why don’t you take the bed?” he suggested. He wasn’t going to sleep, anyway.

  She glanced at the small sofa, then at the king-size bed. “You’re joking, right? You won’t fit on the sofa.”

  “I’ve slept on more uncomfortable furniture.”

  She bit her lip and plunged in. “But not after your injury.”

  His eyes caught hers. “You noticed?”

  “A little.” She shrugged. “And I’ve aggravated it by making you fall on the floor, so you don’t get to be chivalrous. You get to sleep in the bed.”

  For the first time, Ethan found that he wasn’t angry because someone had mentioned his injury. She hadn’t said it to belittle or intimidate. She’d just made a statement of fact. A fact he’d grown to live with. He didn’t understand why it bothered him sometimes. He was sure that, as Molly often said, it had something to do with his masculine pride. He didn’t like feeling diminished.

  Serena set her bag on the sofa and removed a small cosmetics case. “I’ll just brush my teeth and remove my makeup, and we can get some sleep.” She moved toward the bathroom.

  Ethan sat down to take off his boots and realized he had a problem. He couldn’t raise his leg high enough to remove his right boot. As much as he gritted his teeth, his hip was stiff and aching and wouldn’t cooperate.