Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets)

by C. L. Stockton

  “Why, that’s just down the block. I can send a boy there to pick up whatever it is you want and save you the trouble.” Exchanging her full bowl for a few empty ones, Mrs. Whitlock turned to face me.

  “No, but thank you. I would like to see some of the town before we leave this afternoon.” I had to keep this conversation as normal as possible, even though Mrs. Whitlock was sure to remark upon it when questioned by Colton once he learned I’d gone. “Which way to do I turn once outside?”

  “To the right, dearie. Take a left at the corner and continue down until you see the general store. Turn right at the general store and that’s Bottomsleigh.” Mrs. Whitlock looked at me. “You might want to take your young man along. Bottomsleigh can be a mite dangerous for a young lady.”

  “I shall be fine.” I didn’t know if I was reassuring myself or Mrs. Whitlock. I thought briefly of returning upstairs to wake Colton, but decided against it. If I asked him to accompany me, he’d want to know why. Somehow, I didn’t think telling him I had a long lost cousin living here would do the trick. I certainly couldn’t tell him I was basing my actions on a barely remembered five minute conversation with my father from months ago.

  So I would go alone. What could possibly happen to me in broad daylight?

  Peering down the street, I decided my decision to come here alone had been the correct one. Though not the best area in town, Bottomsleigh was already full of people going about their daily business. I was nearly run down by a woman with her arms full of blankets when I turned onto the street.

  In addition to a general store, the street boasted a tailor, a barber, a tack store, along with a few taverns and what looked to be another inn. Catching a glimpse of the general store’s address (504), I knew I had a ways to go.

  As I walked, I paid less attention to the storefronts and more attention to the people. They actually looked quite nice. A youngish man about my age smiled at me before disappearing into the tack store. I must not look like the half crazy wild woman I felt, though I wished I’d at least attempted to smooth my surely windblown appearance.

  Finding this address would be easy. Once there, all my questions would be answered. I could handle this. I was only following my father’s instructions. Surely he wouldn’t send his daughter in his stead if it weren’t perfectly safe.

  Of course this wouldn’t be the first time my father became oblivious to the dangers involved when it came to getting what he wanted.

  But there was nothing to fear. I was surrounded by nice looking people who would surely raise a cry if I were attacked in the middle of the street. Of course, I would have to remain in view, and somehow, I didn’t think my father’s contact would meet with me on the street.

  Glancing at the next sign, I saw it read 908. Progress was being made. My gaze snagged on a cart full of apples, and my stomach growled to remind me my last meal was lunch yesterday. On the verge of stopping to buy one, I remembered Colton had my money.

  Even though he wasn’t there, I made a face. What right had he to take my money? Obviously my father intended me to return to Bolien after meeting with his contact. Raking my memory, I attempted to remember the rest of the conversation when he told me he might one day need me to deliver a message.

  I know it had something to do with the pendant I now wore. I couldn‘t remember if I was supposed to give it to his contact or simply show it around. I sighed. Life would be so much easier if my father was a tiny bit less secretive. Well, there was nothing to do but do as my father said and meet his contact.

  When I did finally find 1324, I had nearly convinced myself this would be easy. It even looked harmless. Housing a very busy bakery, people were in, out and around the store. If I were to be murdered or even threatened, someone would hear it.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked into the bakery. The smell of yeast blended with the familiar scent of too many people in too small a space. To even get into the store, I had to squeeze between a woman reaching for a loaf on a high shelf and a man offering to give her a boost.

  Loaves of freshly baked bread lined each and every shelf in the store. As soon as a loaf was grabbed, another appeared. Either the store had automatically refilling shelves or the owners were really, really good.

  “May I help you?”

  At the sound of the voice, I jumped. I turned to find a sweet faced lady a decade older than I regarding me. She certainly didn’t look mean or ugly enough to be involved in any kind of shady business.

  “Yes, actually. My father sent me to meet with someone, only I do not remember the name of the man I am supposed to meet.” I widened my eyes innocently and attempted to look slightly scatterbrained.

  The woman’s forehead creased. “Did it start with a B? We have a Brad and a Beau working here.”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged my shoulders helplessly.

  “Perhaps if you tell me what this is about, I can help you.”

  “I don’t even know that.” I sighed. “Father got it in his head that I had to be the one to come here, and I certainly don’t make it a habit to buy bread. I never have before. I am not even certain this is the correct address.” I hoped my voice was suitably spoiled sounding. If the lady thought I was nothing more than a fluff head, she might let slip some crucial detail. Although I wouldn’t know a crucial detail if it announced itself.

  “Who is your father?”

  I didn’t think it would hurt to tell her my father’s name. “Michael Summerlynn.”

  The lady’s hazel eyes widened in surprise. “Follow me.” Expertly threading her way through the crowd, I followed her all the way to the back of the store. We reached a shelf with bread where she selected a sort of wheat bread. “Knock on that door. You’ll need this.” Indicating the door nearly hidden beneath the staircase, she left me.

  “Thank you.” The bread was warm in my suddenly cold hand. What was behind the roughly hewn door whose unfinished edges spoke of carelessness? Well, if I were threatened, I could always defend myself with the bread.

  Lifting my free hand, I knocked firmly on the door.

  “Yes?” The door cracked open a scant inch. The voice was masculine, but was absent of other defining characteristics.

  I shoved the bread toward the voice. “I have bread.”

  “What kind?”

  Dubiously, I regarded the speckled bread. “Rye?”

  The door suddenly opened the entire way, and a man stepped back to allow me entry. I got no more than an impression of rather sharp features topped by black hair before I was tugged through and the door closed behind me.

  So much for staying in view.

  I took a moment to glance about the room. Paneled in a dark wood, the room extended nearly the length of the bakery. The far corners were in shadow, the drapes being drawn against the morning light. A few lamps were the sole source of light, illuminating a pair of matching green armchairs, a large desk and two bookcases.

  Hardly the ideal place to plot whatever it is my father is plotting. If anything. Colton could simply be suspicious and a liar. The two normally went together.

  “You have something for me.” The man reclaimed my attention. Older than I thought, he still appeared vigorous enough to murder me if he so chose. His arms were thick cords of muscles, his shoulders wide and sturdy. His eyes were a murky brown, his features nondescript. Once I left (if ever) I would not remember what he looked like.

  “I already gave you the bread.” I could always announce I had no idea why I was here or what I was to give him, but something told me not to. Until I had an idea of what was going on and what exactly my pendant meant, it wouldn’t do to appear ignorant.

  “Please. Summerlynn never comes without gifts.” The slight hesitation before the word gifts alerted me to the fact he meant to say something else before changing his mind.

  “How do you know it is Summerlynn who sent me?”

  “The bread.” At my look of surprise, he smirked. “So you do not know as much as you would have me think. What do yo
u know?”

  I raised my chin. “I am a Summerlynn. That is answer enough.”

  After giving me an all-encompassing glare, he replied, “Of course. Your father?”

  Perhaps I should test the waters. “Will not be coming.”

  “Ah.” Something seemed to click for the man. “We have been expecting word from him. I had no idea he would send his daughter.”

  I didn’t like the way his voice gave special emphasis to the word daughter. I suddenly had a really bad feeling about this entire situation. I shouldn’t be here, or at least I shouldn’t be here without Colton. With him, I’d have a semblance of protection.

  “May I have it?”

  “Pardon?” I didn’t see why I should tell him about the letter, the pendant or the escort I’d gained however unwillingly.

  “Come now, Miss Summerlynn. Did he not send you with a pretty necklace? May I see it?”

  How did he know about the pendant? My hand flew to cover it beneath the neckline of my gown.

  “Yes, I know about the pendant.” I didn’t like the appraising look he gave me. “It belongs to me now.”

  “It does not.” My mind was feverishly working. What exactly did the pendant mean? What did it mean that my father had sent me instead of coming himself?

  “Come now, Miss Summerlynn. You do not want to make me angry.” The man’s features were tight with anger or tension, I couldn’t tell which.

  “I am the one you should worry about angering.” I raised my chin. I would not give into the shaking of my knees or the fear rippling through me. This man, if he so chose, could force me to give him the pendant. He might even enjoy it.

  “Is that so?” The man raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  My laugh came out surprisingly steady. “More fool you. “ I tossed my head for effect. “You are forgetting I am my father’s daughter.” I hadn’t missed his reaction to the mention of my father. He became still and watchful, almost careful in what he said and did. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage.

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing. You know nothing.”

  “I have the pendant.” Which proved I must know something. I probably should figure that out before using it as bait, but I didn’t have time.

  “Which now goes to me.” He extended his hand. When I moved backward, toward the door, he continued, “You do not want me to take it.”

  I considered my options. The door happened to be within reach, but I thought I heard it lock earlier. By the time I unlocked it, the man would already have his hands on me. Maybe he only wanted the pendant, maybe he wanted more. I didn’t want to find out.

  But I couldn’t give him the pendant. Obviously it figured centrally to whatever my father was involved in. Besides, it didn’t feel right to hand it over to the man in front of me. Something was off about him.

  I straightened my shoulders and stiffened my spine. Without any clear directive, the pendant stayed with me. How did I get out of this room with both my life and the pendant?

  The time for discussion was over. In two steps, I was at the door, the key turning easily to unlock it. I nearly had the door open before I was pulled backwards, out of the threshold and slammed into the wall beside it.

  The stranger’s hand was tight upon my throat and I felt my lungs struggling to expand. Too intent on choking me, he never noticed the person entering the still unlocked door. It wasn’t until the man had been thrown off me and onto the ground that I recognized the newest participant in our little discussion.

  Colton shouldn’t be here. His blonde hair was mussed, and a streak of dirt adorned his left cheekbone. He looked rather irritated. Why was he here? Catching the look in his eyes, I suddenly decided I was probably safer locked in the room with my father’s contact than with Colton in the mood he was in.

  Once I regained my breath, I began “I can explain—"only no one heard me. Colton and the man on the ground were locked in an intense stare. They knew each other, and furthermore, didn’t like the other.

  Leaning forward and speaking in a low tone, the man sneered, “I should’ve known you’d be involved.”

  Colton was just as bad. Looking as though the words were the least of what he wished to say, he said, “Considering what you’re after, you’re lucky I didn’t kill you on sight.”

  He looked Colton up and down. “You haven’t the guts to murder me in the midst of a bakery.”

  Eyes hardening, Colton returned, “Haven’t I?”

  “Not very smart, considering how it would reflect on your father. Murdering me wouldn’t look too good right now.”

  “Tempting, but I didn’t come to murder you.” Colton paused, “I hope you are more careful now than to just let strange people find you.”

  The man’s eyes flicked to me. “Ah, but she is much prettier than the usual.” He looked at Colton. “You, not so much.”

  “This is no joking matter.”

  “Lighten up. Nothing will happen until we receive your reply.”

  “I have your word on that?”

  The man nodded. “For what it’s worth.”

  “Then we won’t trouble you further.” Taking my elbow, Colton returned the nod and pulled me back through the bakery and onto the street.

  In fact, he didn’t stop pulling until we reached the general store at the corner of Bottomsleigh. On the verge of complaining at the tightness of his grip on my arm, my words were stolen by the speed and strength of his movements as he stepped off the sidewalk and rammed my back hard against a nearby building.

  The wooden planks of the building dug into my already recently bruised back but I was more distracted that he was using his body to effectively pin me in place. One hand forced my chin up so I had to meet his gaze, while the other spread against the siding beside my head. I couldn’t move away.

  This was entirely different than the way the stranger had held me against the bakery wall. An electric awareness instantly sprang between us, and I wondered if he was as breathless as I. I caught a scent of cheap smelling soap, and noticed his eyes were darker around the pupils than they were at the edges. He was extremely close and I found the feel of his chest against mine and the brush of his knee between my legs more potent than any other thought at the moment.

  “I am not certain whether to strangle or shoot you.” His eyes were the bright blue of flame when it hits wood. I knew he didn’t expect a response, so I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to irritate him any more than he already was. “You could have been killed!”

  “I am in no danger.” A lie, but I wasn’t going to tell Colton that. He’d only use it to force me to promise I’d stay with him. As far as I was concerned, I obeyed my father. The fact I’d done what he asked and had nothing to show for it didn’t matter.

  His grip on my chin tightened. “Tell me what you learned. And do not flutter your eyelashes or play coy. I know you met with your father’s contact. What did he say? Hell, what did you say?”

  I decided not to answer. Nothing I thought at the moment was nice.

  “Answer me,” he demanded, lightly tapping my head against the wall.

  Stubbornly, I glared back. He would learn nothing from me.

  “Fine. I hate to resort to such tactics, but you leave me no choice.” So saying, he readjusted the angle of my head, tilting my mouth toward his. Anyone passing by and spying us along the side of the building might mistake us for lovers.

  Eyes wide, I waited for Colton’s next move. His face wore a look of intense concentration as he slid a hand around to the base of my neck. Tilting my head toward his, I watched his eyes darken as he looked at my mouth.

  He was going to kiss me.

  Even worse, I wanted him to.

  His head dropped by torturous increments. My eyes were half closed, my lips slightly parted as I waited for his kiss.

  Waiting until our lips almost touched, he said, “What did he say?”

  “Nothing,” I ma
naged, my voice suddenly thick due to the lethal combination of his proximity and his scent. Whatever it was about his smell, it made me long to bury my face in his neck and just breathe him in (I had a few other thoughts about what to do once I got there).

  I was insane.

  “I don’t believe you.” Gently, his mouth touched the corner of my mouth. Just the scarcest touch, yet I felt the shock all the way down to my toes. Which appeared to be curling. To say nothing of the fact my stomach was fluttering up and down and I longed to arch my body into his.

  If a corner kiss affected me this way, what would his entire mouth do? I couldn’t afford to find out. “He wanted what my father gave me.”

  “And you said?” His mouth skimmed to the other side of my lips.

  “I had nothing.”

  “You didn’t tell him about the letter?” Was it possible he didn’t know about the pendant?

  Colton raised his head. I took a deep breath, or at least attempted to. With his weight pinning me in place, it was rather hard to fully inflate my lungs.

  “Why should I?” I pressed against his shoulders. “Can you please step back? I would like to breathe.”

  “Sorry.” He did more than step back. He began pacing slowly back and forth in front of me. I made a production of brushing off the sides of my now wrinkled and stained dress but gave it up as hopeless.

  It was my turn to fix him with a steely glare. “What does the letter mean?”

  He shot me a look. “The less you know, the better it will go for you.”

  “Apparently I know enough to make my disappearance attractive.” At Colton’s interested look, I said, “Obviously my father’s contact was interested in keeping me.” Plus he wanted the pendant around my neck, but I saw no need to trouble Colton with that until I knew what it meant.

  “Of course he wanted to keep you. Men have only to look at you to want you.” Before I could dissect that comment, he was off on another tangent, “What did he say about your father? Has he heard from him?”

  “No. He seemed to think I had a message for him.” I frowned. “And what do you mean by men wanting me?” I nearly thanked my head against the building myself. I was more than a hen witted girl. It was time to start acting like it.