Serena Mckee's Back In Town

by Marie Ferrarella

  He saw the hope in her eyes. It killed him that he couldn’t feed it with a clear conscience. “You could be remembering something you’ve buried. Or it could be just a nightmare working with what you think happened. What you want to have happened.”

  Serena straightened. He could feel her drawing away again. More than anything, he wanted to help her, to take care of her, but even now, still trembling from her nightmare, she wouldn’t let him.

  It was only when they were making love that he felt as if he had her completely. Other times, he felt there was something, a part of her, that she was holding back. A part that refused to trust, to depend, or to ask for help.

  It was as frustrating as hell for him. He wanted her to feel that he would always be there for her, no matter what, but he had no idea how to get that across to her. How to get it across the barriers that she had constructed to protect herself.

  He sighed and looked at his watch. It was almost four o’clock. Still early. “Think you can get back to sleep?”

  She shook her head. “I feel too keyed up to sleep.” Besides, she didn’t want to close her eyes again so soon. She was afraid that would only invite the nightmare to return.

  That made two of them, he thought. “All right, c’mon, I’ll make us some coffee. We might as well get an early start on the day.”

  Leaning forward on the bed, he reached for her robe, then handed it to her. Although, if he had his way, he would have had her go downstairs exactly as she was. Every man’s fantasy come to life.

  Serena pushed her arms through the sleeves, pulling the robe closed around her before getting up. “I can go downstairs myself. There’s no need for you to get up, too.”

  He was already pulling on his jeans. Her comment rubbed over him like sandpaper.

  “‘No need’?” he echoed. “What am I, the housekeeper? When are you going to get it through your head, Serena, that whatever is happening to you is happening to me, too?”

  No, she wasn’t going to go that way. If she did, she would lose herself again. Lose all the precious ground she’d gained, struggling for a backbone. For courage. To learn how to stand on her own two feet instead of relying on others.

  For, in the end, there was no one to rely on but herself.

  “We’re not the same two people we were eleven years ago, Cameron.”

  He could feel his temper threatening to erupt. But she didn’t need someone shouting at her right now, no matter how good it would have felt to get it all off his chest. Her needs, not his, he insisted silently. He had to put her first. She’d been through enough.

  “No,” he agreed, “not completely. We’ve grown, learned, adjusted. But at bottom, the core is still there.” When she turned away from him, he caught her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “I’m still the guy you put your trust in, still the guy you confided to how unhappy you were, living here.”

  He didn’t understand. Maybe he even wanted her dependent, the way she’d once been. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t, be that way again. “But I’m not that wide-eyed innocent anymore.”

  He felt them on the verge of an argument, a schism, and carefully backed away from the edge.

  “No, you’re not. No innocent could have done what you did last night.” He grinned, hoping to kid her out of this serious mood. He had an uneasy feeling that if he didn’t, they were heading for disaster.

  Some of the tension left her shoulders. But she had to make him understand. She couldn’t go back, not .even for him. “This isn’t a joke, Cameron. I can’t go back to being who I once was.”

  “Then don’t.” It was more of a command than an agreement. “I’m not looking for an eighteen-year-old girl to while away some time with. I want a woman. A woman with sores, and wounds, and scars. Those are all badges of life, Serena. We all have them. It’s what makes us interesting. What makes us human.”

  A smile began to form. “You should have majored in philosophy.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” Softening, he slipped his arm around her. “I majored in you. You were always there with me, in here.” He touched his heart. “Even when I tried to rid my mind of you. Even when I told myself that I was a fool, because you were never coming back. And wouldn’t want me if you did.”

  She sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. She had no defense against this. And she knew what happened when she was defenseless.

  “This is too heavy a conversation to be having this early in the morning.” She smiled up at him, momentarily scattering the weight of the heavy emotions. “Let’s go get that coffee. But I’ll make it.”

  He pretended to take offense. “Are you saying I can’t make coffee?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she teased, “but you make very good tar.” Serena hooked her arm through his. “Ever think about taking out a patent? The Bedford Company might be interested in it.”

  He laughed, because she amused him, and because, for now, the serious subject was tabled. But he knew, just as she did, that they were going to have to face it again. And soon.

  Chapter 13

  Cameron was procrastinating, and he knew it.

  He was supposed to have left for work ten minutes ago, but he really didn’t want to go. Maybe it was just conceit on his part, but he felt that if he was with Serena, he could prevent anything happening to her. He really didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone.

  He’d made his way to the front door as slowly as was humanly possible, but eventually he reached it. Even now, with his hand on the doorknob, he was lingering.

  “Listen.” Impulsively Cameron framed her face with his hands. God, but he loved her, he thought. And he couldn’t overcome the feeling that she didn’t want him to. That hurt more than he’d ever have thought possible. “Olson is calling off the patrol as of today, but I can pull in some favors, get a few of the guys to take turns being around on their off-hours.”

  She placed her hands on his and gently drew them away. He was going to be late if he didn’t hurry. “That’s not necessary.”

  Cameron blew out a breath, wishing it were steam instead. “You know, I really wish you would stop saying that.”

  “But it’s not,” she insisted.

  She didn’t want him to worry about her. His mind had to be on his work; otherwise, something could happen to him. And she couldn’t bear that, couldn’t bear something happening to him because of her.

  “I have the handy-dandy security system Uncle Dan’s nephew put in. State-of-the-art,” she parroted with a grin.

  Olson’s nephew had used the phrase half a dozen times when explaining the system to her. And each time he’d taken great glee in pointing out that his name was Art.

  Cameron only frowned. “It’s not Art I’m worried about.”

  “You worry too much.” Reaching up on her toes, she brushed her lips against his cheek. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “And it’s not your promise that counts.” He sighed. It was no use. He was beating his head against a wall. “What are your plans for today?” Maybe he could arrange to be somewhere in the vicinity while she went on with this investigation she was conducting.

  Serena had thought she might stop at the county branch of the newspaper and spend time rummaging through their morgue, looking for any stories about her parents’ deaths. The idea had occurred to her when she looked at the evening edition of the newspaper Cameron had brought with him. There was a story in the local section on Olson’s possible bid for mayor, and it had started her thinking.

  She hadn’t mentioned the idea to Cameron, and she found herself bristling at his inquiry. She didn’t like having to account for her every movement.

  “You’re making me feel hemmed in, Cameron.”

  She was being defensive again. He was tired of apologizing for his concern, for his feelings.

  “How about loved?” He’d nearly snapped the words at her, but restrained himself at the last moment. “People worry about people they care about, especially when the
object of their feelings is the recipient of ‘gifts’ from either a desperate person who doesn’t want his identity revealed or a deranged toy maker.”

  She looked at him, embarrassed at having let her frustration get the best of her. Cameron wasn’t trying to be controlling, he only meant well. She had to remember that.

  “Point taken, Detective Reed. I’ll be good. Okay, here’s my itinerary. I plan to do a little research at the newspaper morgue, continue searching the rooms, maybe talk to some of my mother’s old friends. That is,” she qualified, “if Constance Ryan hasn’t put the word out that I’m battering at sacred doors.”

  She’d lost him. “Come again?”

  Serena shrugged. She was on a fishing expedition and she knew it. It didn’t matter to her what she caught, as long as it absolved her father.

  “Maybe it’s one of them. The ‘inner circle,”’ she elaborated. “Maybe something different was going on than a jealous lover. I’ve looked, but so far, I haven’t found a single token.”

  “You’re looking for tokens?” This was something new. “Just what kind of tokens are you talking about?”

  “Not the metal kind.” She smiled at his misinterpretation. “Tokens of affection. Mementos.” It was all so frustrating. She felt she was looking for a particular snowflake in a blizzard. “My mother was a collector. She liked to keep something from every trip she’d been on, every play she’d seen. Whether they represented memories or trophies to her, I don’t know. But she liked to have some sort of tangible object from every important event in her life.”

  Serena turned to look at the house beyond the foyer. It looked so huge from this vantage point. “If she did have a lover, there has to be something of his here.”

  He could see the validity in her thinking, but it was a tall order. “And you expect to be able to identify it when you see it? Why would it look any different than, say, something of your father’s?”

  Damn him and his practicality. He was thinking like a cop. She was thinking like a daughter trying to avenge a father.

  “It’s all I’ve got to go on right now,” she said. “That, and a gut feeling.”

  He nodded, knowing that if he didn’t back off, they could be at this all day. And he did have to get to the precinct.

  “Far be it from me to dispute gut feelings.” Cameron took her into his arms and held her. “Sure it’s not your heart, though?”

  She tilted her head up to look at him. “Right now, my heart is otherwise occupied.”

  Why didn’t he believe her? As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t make himself believe her. He knew her better, he thought, than she knew herself.

  But maybe in time...

  Serena silently tapped his wristwatch, her eyes raised to his.

  He nodded. Message understood. “Okay, call me if you find anything. Or—”

  “If anything strange happens,” she said in a singsong voice. “Yes, I know the drill. Go, arrest some bad guys and get your mind off me.”

  “It ain’t that easy, lady,” he cracked, kissing her quickly.

  Cameron left, shaking his head. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind in eleven years. Why would she think that he could do it now that she was back?

  She’d planned to go to the local branch of the newspaper first thing, but she got sidetracked by the downstairs guest room. It was in the rear of the house, and small in comparison to the others. She reasoned that it wouldn’t take much time to go through, and it didn’t. There was nothing in the bureau, nothing beneath the bed, no sign of any false bottoms in the drawers.

  The telephone rang while she was crawling around on her hands and knees inside the walk-in closet. Other than evidence of a family of mice having recently been in residence, and enough dust to completely coat the walls, she found nothing.

  Getting up, Serena brushed against the wall and went facefirst into a huge cobweb. Stifling a shriek, she quickly scrubbed both hands over her face. As she got the last of the sticky substance, she was immensely grateful that she hadn’t run into the spider that had spun the web in the first place.

  The phone was still ringing when she finally managed to pick the receiver up.

  “Hello,” she said breathlessly. If this was Cameron, she realized belatedly, he was going to immediately assume the worst. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Leave...” a low, hoarse voice muttered against her ear.

  Icy-cold fear instantly drenched her body. “Who is this?” she demanded. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  Serena struggled with the desire to slam down the receiver. If she could get the person to say something more, maybe she’d recognize the voice.

  “Leave,” the voice repeated.

  “I can’t. I—” But she was talking to a dial tone. Badly shaken, she dropped the receiver.

  It took Serena two tries to get it back into the cradle. Her first impulse was to call Cameron. But even as she picked up the receiver again, she stopped and replaced it. She couldn’t allow herself to become hysterical. That was exactly what whoever was doing this to her wanted. To have her fall apart. To have her run.

  She wasn’t going anywhere.

  Especially not on these legs. Gulping snatches of air, she sat down on the bed and waited until her legs were steady again. In the meantime, she comforted herself with a positive thought. She had to be right, had to be getting close to something. Otherwise, there would be no need to frighten her away.

  She could get through this, she told herself. She had to. There would never be any peace for her if she gave up now.

  When the telephone rang again a few minutes later, Serena jumped, swallowing a gasp. She stared at the telephone as if it had been transformed into an asp, waiting to strike her if she reached for it. Fear was getting the better of her.

  “Get ahold of yourself, Serena.” The sound of her own voice managed to calm her. “This is what he wants. To turn you into the spineless twit you once were. But you’re not going to do that, do you hear?”

  Infusing anger into her fear, Serena yanked up the receiver. “Hello!” It was more of a battle cry than a greeting.

  For a moment, there was nothing on the other end. And then she heard a woman’s voice. “Wow, did I call at a bad time?”

  “I—” She knew that voice, she thought. “Rachel?”

  “Yes, but I can call back.”

  Relief flooded her, leaving only a tiny margin for embarrassment. “No, don’t. Please, I just...” She cast about for a reasonable explanation for shouting into the telephone like that. She looked down at her fingers. They were still sticky. “I just had a bad episode with a giant cobweb, that’s all.”

  That wasn’t it, Rachel thought. Nobody sounded like that over a cobweb. But she played along. “I know what you mean. Some of the spiders around here are big enough to wage hand-to-hand combat with.”

  Rachel could have sworn she heard a fast intake of breath. Something had frightened Serena, something far more lethal than a cobweb. But she knew that if she asked outright, Serena would only put her off. At times, trust had to be relearned. That was what she’d said to Cameron when he told her about Serena’s distant behavior.

  “I won’t keep you, I’m just calling to see if you’re up for lunch.”

  Serena was still trying to get her head back into some sort of working order.

  “Lunch?” she repeated.

  “You know, the thing that’s squeezed in between breakfast and dinner to keep us from starving?” Rachel said brightly. Maybe she could get more out of Serena if she was in the tranquil surroundings of a quiet restaurant. “Kirk’s taking the kids on an outing. He thinks it’s so that I can clean the house in peace. I’d rather see you. How about it? Nelson’s at eleven thirty?”

  Serena hesitated. “Is this your idea, or Cameron’s?”

  “Cameron?” Rachel repeated innocently. “Cameron hasn’t had an idea since the day Mom dropped him on his head. No, this is strictly my call. Girls’ afternoon out. How about
it?” she pressed. She’d been serious the other night, when she extended her offer to be there for Serena if she wanted to talk. Since Serena hadn’t called her, Rachel felt it was her duty to make herself available to Serena.

  Serena only gave the suggestion cursory thought before agreeing. Maybe she could stand to get away and talk to a friendly face for a little while. “All right. I’d like that.”

  “Terrific. See you then.” Rachel hung up, feeling pretty proud of herself. Cameron owed her one.

  Nelson’s had been built up since she was here last, Serena thought. For one thing, she was looking out on the calm waters of a man-made lake that hadn’t been here eleven years ago. Nelson’s decor had changed from a homey Mom-and-Pop feel to one of hushed, understated elegance.

  A place, Serena mused, that even her mother might have approved of.

  It was strange that it was her mother, rather than her father, who had haunted her these last few days. She’d spent most of her life trying to shut out Carolyn Tyler McKee and her influence. Yet it was obvious to Serena that her mother was the key to everything now. The key to clearing her father.

  The key to unlocking the cell Serena found herself in.

  Rachel had bided her time, allowing fifteen minutes for breezy chitchat to settle Serena’s nerves. She’d been obviously agitated when she arrived in the parking lot. Rachel had recognized the signs immediately.

  But instead of probing, Rachel had talked about Kirk and the kids and how part of her couldn’t wait for school to begin again so that their lives could resume a more normal pattern.

  In her estimation, she’d waited long enough. “So, how’s it going?” Rachel asked after the waiter brought their salads. “Find anything yet?” Closemouthed, Serena only shook her head in reply. “Think you’re going to?”

  It wasn’t a mocking question, but one of sincere interest. Rachel wasn’t just being idly curious; she really wanted to know, because it affected her, Serena thought.

  It was only when she began to relax that Serena realized just how tense she’d been.