Serena Mckee's Back In Town

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Serena Mckee's Back In Town Page 1

by Marie Ferrarella




  “You need someone in your corner, Serena,”

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  “You need someone in your corner, Serena,”

  Cameron said.

  She knew that, even though she didn’t want to admit it. “And that would be you?”

  “That would be me.”

  She wasn’t going to allow him any more space in her life than she thought she could handle. And if he was going to be there, she wanted to know his reasons, up front. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Damned if I know.” He knew. He knew all right, but he wasn’t about to spell it out for her. Not when she’d ripped his heart out before. This time, he was going to keep his heart under wraps.

  Dear Reader,

  With the coming of fall, the days—and nights—are getting cooler, but you can heat them up again with this month’s selections from Silhouette Intimate Moments. Award winner Justine Davis is back with the latest installment in her popular TRINITY STREET WEST miniseries, A Man To Trust. Hero Cruz Gregerson proves himself to be just that—though it takes heroine Kelsey Hall a little time to see it. Add a pregnant runaway, a mighty cute kid and an opportunely appearing snake (yes, I said “snake”!), and you have a book to cherish forever.

  With Baby by Design, award-winning Paula Detmer Riggs concludes her MATERNITY ROW trilogy. Pregnant-with-twins Raine Paxton certainly isn’t expecting a visit from her ex-husband, Morgan—and neither one of them is expecting the sensuous fireworks that come next! Miniseries madness continues with Roarke’s Wife, the latest in Beverly Barton’s THE PROTECTORS, and Maggie Shayne’s Badlands Bad Boy, the newest in THE TEXAS BRAND. Both of these miniseries will be going on for a while—and if you haven’t discovered them already, you’ll certainly want to come along for the ride. Then turn to Marie Ferrarella’s Serena McKee’s Back in Town for a reunion romance with heart-stopping impact. Finally there’s Cheryl St. John’s second book for the line, The Truth About Toby, a moving story about how dreams can literally come true.

  Here at Intimate Moments, we pride ourselves on bringing you books that represent the best in romance fiction, so I hope you’ll enjoy every one of this month’s selections, then join us again next month, when the excitement—and the passion—continue.

  Yours,

  Leslie J. Wainger

  Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator

  * * *

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  * * *

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  SERENA MCKEE’S BACK IN TOWN

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  *Holding Out for a Hero #496

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  *Christmas Every Day #538

  Callaghan’s Way #601

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  Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole

  Silhouette Desire

  Tried and True #112

  Buyer Beware #142

  Through Laughter and Tears #161

  Grand Theft: Heart #182

  A Woman of Integrity #197

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  Mine by Write #411

  Getting Physical #440

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  lives in Southern California. She describes herself as the tired mother of two overenergetic children and the contented wife of one wonderful man. This RITA Award-winning author is thrilled to be following her dream of writing full-time.

  To

  Voneda Norman,

  who asked for

  Cameron’s story.

  Hope you like it.

  Chapter 1

  He wondered if he was getting old.

  There had been a time, and not all that long ago, when Detective Cameron Reed of the Bedford Police Department could have put in a long day on a stakeout and then gone out and partied the night away. But tonight, when they got off duty and his partner, Joel Martinez, suggested getting a few beers and soaking up some of the finer pleasures Bedford had to offer, Cameron had found himself passing on the opportunity.

  The lure of a hot shower and a warm bed was far more enticing at the moment than the call of some nubile woman who was looking for only a night’s entertainment.

  Yeah, he had to be getting old, all right.

  Cameron could feel his muscles aching, each one individually protesting every movement he made. Even turning the steering wheel and lifting his foot off and on the accelerator sent swarms of sharp needles all along h
is spine.

  Maybe it wasn’t really old age, he rationalized. And maybe he wasn’t out of shape. After all, he’d been sitting immobilized at the stakeout for hours. And he had spent all day yesterday—typically a day of rest, if he had his way—helping his brother-in-law pour cement and lay a new patio out back, in place of the one that had cracked so badly in the last earthquake. There were times that it seemed to him that the earth beneath his feet was constantly buckling and undulating.

  It had certainly left its mark on Rachel’s patio.

  Well, he had no one to blame but himself, he thought. Himself, and the look on Rachel’s face when she’d told him that Kirk was tackling the job all by himself. His sister still knew exactly how to apply the screws and make him feel guilty without actually coming out and asking him to do anything. The talent was a holdover from their childhood, when she had used him shamelessly.

  Cameron grinned to himself. It hadn’t seemed so bad yesterday. He liked socializing with his family, even with a cement mixer between them, and heaven knew he got little time to do it these days.

  So there he had been, toiling beneath the hot August sun with his brother-in-law and his ten-year-old nephew, Ethan, instead of sitting at home, feet propped up, holding a beer and hopefully watching the Angels cream their opposition.

  By the time he got home, the Angels had lost and he’d been too tired to care.

  He cared now.

  Today, every bone in his body reminded him that he wasn’t twenty anymore, but thirty. Sitting and watching the warehouse where the anonymous informant had tipped them off that the computer thieves would strike next had been an endurance test after the second hour.

  The stakeout had been fruitless. But without any other leads, they would continue with it until it paid off, or until there was another break-in somewhere else.

  Now there was something to hope for, he thought grimly.

  Turning the car, he passed another construction site. The apartment complex that was being erected was in its final stages of completion. Cameron shook his head. It seemed that nowadays, everywhere he looked, there was another construction site, another cluster of homes, another onslaught of stores. Bedford had certainly grown up since he was a kid here.

  Bedford was in a constant state of forward progress. That meant more and more people. And more probability of the need of his services. There had been a time, he remembered, when a policeman was only window dressing, not a necessity. But times had changed, and so had Bedford. It wasn’t a sleepy-eyed little picture-book town anymore. It hadn’t been for over eleven years now.

  Eleven years ago. When the first murder had taken place.

  Cameron looked up and realized that he had somehow managed to take the long way home. Subconsciously.

  Annoyed, he began to turn around, then shrugged. It was a nice night, and driving here, in the more peaceful region of Bedford, relaxed him, even if it was somewhat out of his way.

  He set his jaw. Maybe relaxed wasn’t quite the word for it. Not when he was deliberately passing McKee Hill. Why was he doing this to himself, anyway? It had been a long time since he had thought of it.

  Of her.

  Maybe it was because on nights like this, with the warm California air almost sultry as it caressed his face, he remembered her the clearest.

  Serena.

  Serena, with her long auburn hair curling about her bare shoulders like summer smoke, the light of first love in her eyes—or what he had taken to be first love, he thought ruefully.

  The memory of that night shimmied over him, softening him. For a moment, he managed to block out the sense of rejection that always came afterward. He thought only of the way she’d looked then.

  He remembered there had been fireflies out that night. And a moon. A moon so big, so round and so bright, it looked as if it had been painted in place by divine command. Just for them.

  Funny, how when you were young you could really be so stupid as to believe in things like that. In things like love.

  How long ago had that been now? Eleven years...but it might as well have been a hundred. At times, it felt that long ago. But it was really just eleven years ago, just a week before the scandal that rocked their growing town hit. The scandal that took her away, whisking her from his side as if she had never even existed.

  Maybe, in a way, she hadn’t. Maybe it had all been just a figment of his imagination. A seed that he had allowed to grow until it flowered into something beautiful. Something that really hadn’t been there to begin with.

  He laughed softly to himself as he drove on. No, there was no denying it. It had been there. She had been real. Like magic beneath his hands, hesitant and eager beneath his lips. They’d been soul mates, for the briefest instant in time.

  And then she was gone.

  A bittersweet smile creased his lips, the way it always did when he thought of Serena and that night. He’d thought that evening was the beginning of everything. He hadn’t realized that it was an entire lifetime. A beginning and an ending.

  For it had marked the end of his boyhood, the beginning of his manhood. And with it, all the stark reality that accompanied that state of being.

  Cameron shut off the air-conditioning and rolled down the window, preferring the touch of the sweet evening breeze to anything that technology and man had made right now.

  He wondered where Serena was now. What she was doing, and most of all, if she was happy. Cameron supposed he really hoped she was happy. Even if she was being happy without him.

  He was getting positively maudlin, he thought, upbraiding himself. This wasn’t like him—at least, not anymore.

  In the old days, she had remained on his mind like a logo stamped on every thought, on everything he did. Now, when he did think of her, her memory lingered like a half dream he had once had. One that he knew was eventually destined to fade away.

  He had only to let it.

  The road was dark here. Progress, or civilization, or whatever the popular term was that was bandied about in boardrooms where CEOs in expensive imported suits decided these things, hadn’t made it this far yet. The Bedford Company hadn’t turned their attention in this direction.

  At least not yet. They had. tilled the other fields, uprooting hundred-year-old eucalyptus trees and orange groves to make way for houses, apartment complexes and tidy shopping centers, all artistically structured and pleasing to the eye.

  Not a one of them was nearly as soothing as a field of freshly ripened strawberry plants. Not to him, he thought. And not to Serena. He could remember picking the berries with her, watching her slip one plump, ripe strawberry into her mouth. Kissing the taste from her lips...

  Damn, what was he doing to himself, anyway?

  Cameron ran his hand through his hair. He forced himself to concentrate on the road. Any oncoming traffic was not as easy to see out here as it was on the regular roads. Here, on the outskirts of Bedford, traffic lights were still at a minimum.

  The area was the last bastion for an occasional deer and the continually dwindling society of opossums that still made their home here. Turning down his radio to absorb the peace that tiptoed around him on silent feet, Cameron thought he heard the screech of a barn owl to his right.

  Looking, he found his eyes inevitably drawn to another sight.

  To McKee Hill.

  He’d passed it countless times before. In the evening, it stood like a sprawling, enshrouded ghost from another era—a mourner for the double tragedy that had struck here one hot summer night, wiping out two lives and permanently suspending two more.

  It wasn’t until he looked away again and at the dark road stretching before him that the sight completely registered. There was a light on in the old house.

  Cameron eased his foot down on the brake and looked again. No, it wasn’t his imagination. There was a light coming from the rear of the house. Faint, but definitely there.

  Damn.

  He sighed and shook his head as he turned the car toward the ri
ght. Probably just some kids with lanterns who had climbed over the wrought-iron fence and decided to break in. Somebody’s idea of a dare or an initiation into a club: Spend a night in the old, haunted mansion to prove your manhood.

  Cameron had caught his own nephew at it just last fall. Ethan had looked outwardly put off by his intervention, but Cameron had had the distinct impression that the boy was actually relieved to have him show up. The house had been the site of a murder-suicide, and in the dead of night, kids swore that the ghosts of the people who had died so violently here walked the grounds, looking to avenge themselves on those who were free to go on with their lives.

  The house was a magnet for teens bent on pranks. Another time, he’d come upon a couple of kids making a fire in the fireplace. Harmless kids, out to have an indoor cookout. The flue had been shut, and they would have wound up burning the whole place down if he hadn’t happened on them in time.

  Cameron to the rescue, he thought sarcastically as he got out of his car to open the gates.

  He had no idea why the house hadn’t been sold and torn down long ago. Just a monument to pain, not to mention another source of irritation and trouble to the police department.

  Tugging on the gates, he frowned when they wouldn’t give. The electronic lock had long since been disconnected. Just his luck, they were stuck.

  Now what?

  He debated just forgetting about it and going home, but he couldn’t very well just turn his back on it. There was definitely someone lurking about. Maybe he’d call it in for a patrolman to investigate.

  Cameron went so far as to reach inside his car and pick up the transmitter, but then he hung it up again. If he had a rookie come out in a squad car to investigate, he would never live it down. He could just hear Martinez and Sheffield now:

  “Getting old, Reed?” Martinez would ask with a smirk, nudging Sheffield.

 

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