The Parks Empire: Secrets, Lies and Loves: Romancing the Enemy

“I hate it when children are involved,” she told him.

He hesitated. “I heard Stacy tell you she didn’t like visiting her grandfather. She said he didn’t like people.”

“I didn’t encourage her to talk about him,” Sara quickly said.

Cade waved aside her remark. “I don’t think she’ll be surprised or particularly upset by anything that happens to him. He hasn’t earned her affection.”

That struck Sara as the saddest thing of all. Children should have loving grandparents that thought they hung the moon. Her own had died before she was born or before she’d been old enough to remember them. She’d always felt she and Kathleen and the twins had been cheated out of something important because of that.

“I think you should stay out of it,” she said to Cade.

“I can’t. We’re too deeply involved.”

She lifted her head and stared at him. He returned it, his face grim and determined.

“Will you set up a meeting with your brother?” he asked. “And Mark Banning and his brother. Is there anyone else in on this?”

“Rachel knows some of it,” Sara admitted. “She helped me get the town house…” Realizing she might have said too much, Sara let the words trail off.

“Yes, I’d already figured a bit of collusion there.”

“I didn’t plan the rest,” she said in a low voice. “What happened between us, the visit to the ranch and…and everything.”

He stood and paced the deck like a caged beast. “That’s good to know. For a while, I thought maybe you’d faked your response, then I decided you hadn’t. It was too compelling for either of us to pretend.”

“I didn’t expect it. The passion, the terrible need, like lightning inside me.” With an effort, she stopped the futile confession. “It was unwise.”

“But good,” he murmured, so quietly she could hardly hear. “So very, very good.”

They observed each other without speaking for a full minute. Torrents of hunger surged between them like a storm tide caused by an angry god, bent on vengeance.

Sara stood it as long as she could, then she fled inside and locked the door behind her, not to keep him out but to remind herself that she must stay in. His arms were not the safe haven she sought.

There was no safe place, she realized, until the past could be exposed, then decently buried for all time.

Chapter Nine

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Sara assured Tyler when he returned her call, an hour after she’d fled from Cade and her conscience and left a message on his phone. “Except that we think Walter killed Jeremy. And that we want to see justice done. He volunteered to help us get the truth.”

“Huh,” Tyler said in a skeptical voice.

“He wanted to know what evidence we had. He, uh, seemed to think we had a witness.”

That brought a more forceful response. “The hell he did! What did you say? You didn’t tell him about our search for Mom’s brother, did you?”

“No, I didn’t mention the lost uncle. I told him it was more your story to tell than mine. He wants a meeting with everyone who’s working on the case. You, Nick, Mark—oh, Cade apparently spoke to Mark earlier today.”

“What for?” Tyler demanded. “I don’t like the sounds of this. Too many people are getting involved. We may as well hire a sandwich-board guy to walk around town and advertise what we’re doing.”

“I think he wanted Mark to investigate something.” She paused to consider. “Us, most likely.”

“Great,” Tyler muttered in disgust. “I’ll call Mark…No, it’s after eleven. I’ll call him and Nick first thing in the morning. Can you set up a meeting at your place for tomorrow night? Nick and I can get there by eight.”

“Make it nine,” she told him. “Cade is busy getting his daughter to bed before then.”

“Okay, nine it is.”

“Should I include Rachel?”

There was a brief silence. “Why?”

“Well, she basically knows everything and wants to help. I don’t know if she can contribute anything, but she and Nick worked together to get me into the duplex.”

“Hell, the more, the merrier,” her brother said. “I’ll call the mayor and see if he can join us, too.”

“Maybe we ought to ask Walter Parks.”

“Sure. Why not? We can just ask him point-blank if he did the dastardly deed.”

Sara smiled at Tyler’s snort of sarcastic laughter. Their quest had taken on the air of old-fashioned melodrama. On this note, they said goodnight and hung up. She called Rachel. Her friend was still up. Sara brought the other woman up-to-date.

“Darn, I have parent consultations tomorrow night,” Rachel complained. “It’ll be well after nine before I wrap that up, so I won’t be able to make it. Keep me informed, will you?”

Sara promised she would.

After turning off the bedside lamp, she stared at the dark ceiling until her eyes felt like sandpaper. Last winter, time had ticked by slowly while she’d waited at her mother’s bedside for the inevitable end. Now it seemed to be rushing forward way too fast, the hours whipping by until she wanted to ask for a reprieve and have the moment stand still while she sorted things out—how she felt, how she thought she should feel, what she wanted to happen.

One thing for sure—she wanted all of this scheming and searching to be over. She wanted a future without questions or doubts plaguing every decision she made. She did not want to live in “interesting” times.

Serenity. Was there such a thing?

Cade stood at the rear door of his town house. It was twenty minutes before he was due next door. Stacy had fallen asleep before the end of the story, so he had the time to himself, as unusual as that was. Every minute of every day seemed to be taken up with obligations.

Restless, he went out on the deck and sat on the railing. The breeze off the ocean brought the tang of salt to him. He thought of sailing off into the unknown and not coming back. A life without complications was tempting.

Hearing movement in the other town house, he turned so he could see inside. Sara came into the den and placed a tray loaded with egg rolls, pot stickers and lots of veggies on the coffee table, then returned to the kitchen without glancing outside.

She was dressed in black slacks with a pink silk shirt. A black-and-pink scarf held her hair from her face. He observed the movement of her slender form until she disappeared from sight. Unbidden memories flooded his mind.

He’d explored and caressed every inch of her lissome body during their weekend at the ranch. She’d done the same to him. They’d discovered each passionate nook and cranny of the other in those stolen hours. They’d shared the quiet, contented afterglow of making love.

Had it all been a lie? Or was she as frustrated by their conflicting relationship as he was?

Heat spiraled low in his body. Whatever else lay between them, that part hadn’t changed. He wanted her with a hunger that surprised and annoyed him. With every thought of her, the familiar longing blazed through him like lightning striking a dry forest. Passion had been the downfall of many men, he reflected. Going to the door, he knocked softly.

“Come in. The door’s unlocked,” she called, returning to the den with another tray stocked with fruit, several kinds of cheese and an assortment of crackers.

She wore a worried expression, and tension was evident in the line of her shoulders. He could identify with that.