The Wrong Woman

by Linda Warren

  Ethan drove to the police station to talk to Daniel, who he hoped might be able to give him some answers about Boyd. He wondered if Serena was headed back to Fort Worth yet. He wasn’t bending his rules for her, he told himself again. Tonight if all went well, he would locate the stripper and his association with Serena Farrell would be over. He’d go back to Junction Flat and his family problems, and she’d sort through her financial difficulties. They’d probably never meet again.

  He felt a certain sadness at the thought.

  AT THE MOTEL Serena changed, then packed her overnight bag. Soon she was driving toward Fort Worth. She wasn’t going because Ethan had told her to, but because she’d realized it was plain stupid to follow him around looking for the stripper. Besides, she had a portrait to paint and obligations at home, and Ethan didn’t need her help or require her presence. That made her feel very alone, and she had to acknowledge that she was thinking too much about Ethan. She was just a client to him, and wasn’t looking for any type of involvement. Neither was she.

  She parked in her driveway and for a moment stared at the huge, stately house. It was redbrick with white trim and had large white columns adorning the front portico. This place was way too large for two people, she thought, and the trim would soon need painting. How could she afford that? The only solution was to move into a smaller place. But she couldn’t do that, either. It would break Gran’s heart. There was one thing she could do, though. She’d call Ethan and tell him to stop searching for the stripper, even though he’d said he’d give her a day’s work free. It was pointless. If her mother was out there, she hadn’t looked for Serena in all these years. Anyway, the chances were very unlikely. She’d just overreacted to the idea of someone looking like her; in reality, the resemblance probably wasn’t all that remarkable. She’d just needed a moment to escape from her problems and Ethan had provided a pleasant distraction. She ran her hand over the steering wheel, remembering the feel of his body. A most pleasant distraction.

  Serena walked into the kitchen and stopped short. Myrtle, the cleaning lady she’d let go, was polishing the silver.

  “What are you doing here, Myrtle?”

  “Your grandmother called me.”

  Serena closed her eyes in frustration. “Myrtle, we can’t afford to pay you. I thought I made that very clear.”

  Myrtle wiped her hands nervously on her apron. “But your grandmother keeps calling me. She says you’re being overcautious and that she’ll pay me.”

  “Has Gran paid you?” Gran never carried cash, just credit cards, and Serena knew Myrtle didn’t take credit.

  “No, but…”

  Serena opened her purse, took out some money and laid it on the counter. “Finish up for today, but if Gran calls again, please don’t come back, because I can’t pay you.”

  “I’m sorry, Serena.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She glanced around. “Where’s Gran?”

  “She went shopping.”

  “Oh, no,” Serena groaned.

  “Is something wrong?” Myrtle asked.

  “No, Myrtle,” Serena assured her. “Don’t worry about it.” She walked into the den and sank into a chair.

  Memories from her childhood flashed through her mind. Memories she’d apparently forgotten. But suddenly she remembered arguments between her grandparents, remembered her grandfather pleading with Gran to curb her spending. Gran loved expensive clothes, jewels, cars, furnishings and parties. As much as her grandfather tried, Gran had never listened to him, just as she wasn’t listening to Serena now.

  Serena was ashamed to admit that a lot of money had been spent on her. Gran insisted she have the best of everything and Serena realized now that the cost was more than Grandfather could afford. Gran was willfully blind to their financial situation, and Grandfather didn’t have the heart to force the issue. Now Serena would have to. Like her grandfather, she’d been putting it off, but she couldn’t do that any longer.

  It was useless to try to figure out why certain patterns of behavior had developed. All she could do was deal with the present. But—the spending had to stop.

  She went into her study to work on the painting, but she couldn’t concentrate. The skin tone wasn’t right, so she wiped it off and tried again, then just gave up. There was too much on her mind to give the portrait her best. She’d work later. As she washed her brushes, the phone rang. It was Mr. Hudson, the jeweler who’d bought her grandmother’s earrings. He said he was having a problem reproducing the design, and she told him to forget it—she wouldn’t need them, after all. It was time to tell Gran the truth.

  Serena heard thunder and walked over to the window to stare at the June rain. Water streamed down the windowpane, and Serena watched as if enthralled. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the rain stopped. Serena looked for a rainbow as she had so often when she was a child. She couldn’t see one. There are no rainbows, Grandfather. Just life—real life. And she wished she was more equipped to handle it…and Gran.

  As she removed her smock and laid it on the counter, she heard voices. Gran was home—without packages, she hoped.

  She stared at the phone and knew what she had to do. If Gran had to stop spending, then so did she. She had to call Ethan. She’d made that decision earlier, but had done nothing about it. After all her importuning, all her talk about needing to see this woman she resembled, Ethan would be shocked at this turn of events. But she had no choice, and as it was, she owed him for two days’ work. His cell-phone number was in her purse. It took her a while, but she found it.

  Poking out his number, she felt a loss she couldn’t describe. She liked Ethan and wanted to know him better, but now that wasn’t going to happen.

  The phone rang several times, then his voice mail came on. Damn. Where was he? She didn’t want to leave a message, but now she had to. The beep sounded and she said, “Ethan, it’s Serena. I’ve changed my mind. Please stop looking for the stripper. It doesn’t matter anymore. Send me a bill and I’ll mail you a check. I just…I just…Goodbye, Ethan.”

  Hanging up, she swallowed the constriction in her throat. Goodbye, Ethan. She stood for a moment, realizing that in the few hours she’d known Ethan, she had connected with him in a special way—in a way she’d never connected with Brad or any other man. Maybe someday the reasons for that would be clearer to her, but now too many other problems took precedence.

  Serena inhaled deeply and hurried upstairs. In Gran’s room, she came to an abrupt halt. The bed was covered with shopping bags. As she tried to control her temper, Aurora turned from placing her purse on the settee.

  “Oh, Serena,” she said nervously. “I…I didn’t know you were home.”

  “Obviously not,” Serena replied coolly, waving a hand toward the bags. “What’s all this?”

  “Now, darling, don’t get angry, but we’re having the bridge tournament next week and I needed something new to wear.”

  Serena stalked to the huge closet with its double doors and flung them open. The inside was crammed with clothes. “What’s wrong with these?”

  “Darling, the ladies have seen them all. I need something new. It’s expected of me.”

  Serena shook her head. She hated to be hard, but she had no choice if they were going to survive. “Not this time, Gran,” she said, and gathered up the bags.

  “What are you doing?” Gran spoke sharply.

  “Taking these things back.”

  “No! I absolutely forbid it.”

  Serena saw the fear in her eyes. It wasn’t a fear of being penniless or homeless. It was a fear of not being the perfectly coiffed, well-dressed lady in front of her friends. She was beginning to think she didn’t really know her grandmother. Gran couldn’t be this insensitive, could she? Serena dropped the bags and crossed to the settee. Lowering herself onto it, she said, “We need to talk.”

  Aurora sat beside her. “Darling, you’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just a few outfits. I’m sure we can afford it.”


  Serena stared at her. Did she not grasp their situation at all?

  “No, Gran, we’re broke and you can’t call Myrtle anymore, either. I’ll do the cleaning.”

  “That’s nonsense. I’ve always had a cleaning lady. Henry saw to that.”

  “Gran, we’re broke,” she said again in a patient voice.

  “You keep saying that, but Henry’s family owned a big company and I’m sure there’s plenty of money.”

  Serena took a calming breath. “Listen to me. Grandfather sold his share of the company. All he had was a job, for which he was paid a salary. When he died, that money ended. I’ve already explained this to you.”

  “I’m sure it’s not true. Henry never mentioned a word.” Serena was equally sure that her grandfather had, but Gran had a way of ignoring unpleasant things.

  “It’s true,” Serena said sternly. “Grandfather even took out a second mortgage on this house. A mortgage I can’t pay.”

  “Serena, you’re making all this up,” Aurora said in dismissive tones.

  Serena knew of only one way to convince her. She went straight to her room to find all the letters from the bank. She carried them back to Aurora and placed them in her lap. “Read these.”

  Aurora’s skin turned a pasty white. “They’re…going to foreclose on our home.”

  Finally Gran seemed to recognize their dire situation. Serena felt a moment of relief. Now she had to tell her grandmother what she’d done…. She sat down again. “We won’t have to worry about that for a while. I sold the diamond earrings Grandfather gave you on your wedding day.”

  “What!”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “Those earrings belonged to me! You had no right.”

  Serena was taken aback at the venom in her grandmother’s voice. “Would you rather be homeless?”

  Aurora straightened. “I am Henry Farrell’s widow. They wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”

  “They don’t care who you are,” Serena told her. “The bank wants its money.”

  Aurora put a hand to her head. “I’m tired, darling. Would you get me a cup of tea, please?”

  Aurora lived in her own little world of wealth and privilege, and she intended to stay there, closing her eyes to everything around her. Serena had to resort to drastic measures. She picked up Aurora’s purse and removed the credit cards from her wallet.

  “What are you doing?” Aurora asked immediately.

  “Taking your credit cards.” She then gathered up the bags on the bed. “And I’m returning all this stuff.”

  “Stop being so mean.”

  “I’m not. I’m just being realistic. These are unnecessary purchases we can live without. I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to understand.”

  Aurora’s eyes narrowed. “Henry wasn’t like this. You’re just like her. I never thought you were, but you are.”

  “Like who?” Serena asked.

  “Your mother, that’s who,” Aurora said coldly. “We gave her everything and she threw it back in our faces. Expensive clothes hung in her closet, but she wouldn’t wear them. There were diamonds in her jewelry box, but she wore rhinestones. A Corvette sat in the garage, but she wouldn’t drive it. It was too flashy—unnecessary, she said. Materialistic. That was her constant insult to us. I never understood Jasmine. She was my daughter, but we were so different. She said she wanted love and happiness, not material things. When she ran away, I was almost relieved. I was tired of all the arguing and fighting. Henry wanted to go after her, but I told him to let her go. She’d find out what life was really like. And she did. John Welch wasn’t her dream come true.”

  Serena had trouble breathing. Gran’s words were tearing her heart out. “You don’t mean what you’re saying.” Serena heard her own voice and hadn’t even realized she’d spoken the words aloud.

  “Yes, I do,” Gran told her. “Jasmine hurt me just like you’re hurting me. I should have let her raise you.”

  “Her?” Serena echoed. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Your father’s family. They wanted you.”

  Serena swallowed. “They wanted me.”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t let them have you.”

  Serena swallowed again, this time more painfully. “You kept me out of spite?”

  “Yes,” Aurora said without even pausing.

  As Serena’s world caved in on her, her body trembled and her breath locked in her throat. The shopping bags fell to the floor, as did the credit cards. She looked down at the clutter at her feet and raised her eyes to her grandmother.

  “Goodbye, Gran,” she said, and walked out of the room.

  “Come back, Serena!” Aurora called. “I didn’t mean it. Oh, darling, I’m sorry.”

  Serena didn’t hear her. Her mind had completely shut down. She grabbed her purse and the overnight bag she hadn’t unpacked. Within minutes she was in her car, driving without any destination. All she knew was that she had to get away from her grandmother, as far away as possible.

  ETHAN DROVE to the police station where his friend Daniel Garrett worked. The big room with its rows of desks, filing cabinets, technical equipment and the constant ringing of phones was a poignant reminder of the days he’d spent in law enforcement.

  Still wearing his shoulder holster, Daniel sat at a desk cluttered with paper, his sleeves rolled up as he read a document. He glanced up and saw Ethan.

  He leaped to his feet, a smile on his handsome face. Daniel was somewhere in his thirties with dark hair that tended to curl. “Well, I’ll be damned. If it ain’t Ethan Ramsey.” They shook hands vigorously. “Haven’t seen you since we worked that case together. How you doing?”

  “Fine,” Ethan replied.

  “You look great—after taking a bullet like that.” Daniel waved toward a vinyl chair. “Have a seat.”

  Ethan sat down, hoping Daniel didn’t want to talk about the shooting. It was a subject he wasn’t comfortable with.

  “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  “I need information about someone in Dallas.”

  “Sure.” Daniel tipped back his chair. “Who is it?”

  “Rudy Boyd. Ever heard of him?”

  Daniel leaned forward with a scowl on his face. “Why are you looking for him?”

  “I’m not looking for him. I know where he is. My brother and sister sing in one of his clubs. I just have a…feeling about him. I was hoping you could fill me in.”

  “He’s bad news. I know he’s moving drugs in and out of those clubs, but I can’t prove it. We’ve done surprise raids on several clubs, even his home, but we always come up empty. He’s slick. Knows how to cover his tracks.”

  Ethan was right, but he didn’t take any pleasure from that. He had to know more. “He looks familiar. Has he been involved in anything else?”

  “Remember Roscoe Myers?”

  “Sure, we got him for selling illegal firearms.”

  “Boyd was also questioned at that time. The FBI thought he was involved.”

  “Now I remember. Johnson handled that part of the case. I knew I’d seen Boyd’s face somewhere.”

  “He has a rap sheet as long as my arm, but he’s never been convicted of anything. He was in a gang as a kid and he uses the old story of a street kid turning his life around. He talks big about giving back to the community, and claims to be deterring kids from a life of crime through sports and so forth. He’s given speeches for the Chamber of Commerce, the mayor and city council. But what Boyd’s putting back into the community would turn their hair gray.”

  “Sounds like a smooth operator.”

  “You bet, but I’ll get him,” Daniel vowed. “No matter how long it takes.”

  “Then you have a good lead?”

  “I did,” Daniel admitted. “Had a cop, Greg Larson, working undercover at one of the strip clubs we believe is owned by Boyd but fronted by someone else. My officer disappeared a month ago and we found traces of blood in his apartment.”
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  “What did the DNA show?”

  “The blood is Greg’s,” Daniel said. “Doesn’t look good.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Ethan agreed. “Which strip club was he at?”

  “Teasers.”

  Ethan’s expression hardened.

  “Something wrong?” Daniel asked.

  “I’ve been to Teasers a few times.”

  “Damn, Ethan, I didn’t know you favored strip joints.”

  Ethan gave him a tolerant glance. “Don’t be cute. I’m on a case and looking for a stripper who works there.”

  “Did you find her?”

  “No, and whenever I ask questions, everyone gets a little nervous.”

  “Who’s the girl?”

  “I don’t know her name. That’s what I’m trying to find out. All I know is that she’s a very attractive redhead.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Greg was infatuated with a redhead who worked in that club, but she was a waitress. Are you sure the girl’s a stripper?”

  “Most definitely. I’ve seen her take it all off.”

  Daniel shifted restlessly. “I should have a comeback for that, but right now I’m thinking this can’t be a coincidence. Greg was on to something that would tie Boyd to these clubs. He said he’d call me the next day. I never heard from him again. Somehow the redhead is connected to this.”

  “But you said he was interested in a waitress,” Ethan reminded him.

  “That’s the only part that doesn’t make sense. Greg said she hated the job but was a waitress because she needed the tips. She was working her way through grad school.”

  “Did Greg give you a name?”

  “He always called her Red, and I never asked anything else. I just told him he’d better keep his head on straight and stop fooling around with her. He was there to do a job, not lay some waitress.”

  Ethan stood. “Guess your next step is to locate the redhead.”

  “Yeah.” Daniel also stood. “She might know something, she might not. At this point I’ll take anything I can get.” He quickly scribbled a number on a piece of paper and handed it to Ethan. “That’s my cell phone. You can reach me anytime—day or night.”