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

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.

      “Is this a meeting or a party?” he asked with a certain rueful edginess to the tone.

      “Tyler is always hungry,” she explained.

      She glanced at him, then checked the trays, her manner so serious, he felt a quixotic urge to take on her burdens and ease the load she carried. He silently laughed at the ridiculous notion. He wouldn’t be a fool for a woman again.

      “Looks good, young Sara,” he said, forcing a smile.

      Pausing, she studied him as if puzzled. “Why do you call me that?”

      He shrugged. “I think the young girl I once knew is still there, hidden behind the turmoil and grief and injustice of a grown-up world.”

      She shook her head. “She’s gone, Cade. She disappeared a long time ago.”

      “Perhaps.” He knew he should leave well enough alone, but something prodded him to add, “She lives in my heart if nowhere else.”

      The golden flecks in her green eyes flashed in the lamplight. She blinked tears back with visible effort.

      “She lives in a boy’s dreams,” she corrected, giving him a defiant glance. “Not in the real world.”

      “Last weekend seemed pretty real to me.”

      A blush crept up her neck. “That was wrong—”

      He wasn’t going to let her brush the weekend aside that easily. “No, it was the one thing that was right. Everything else may be wrong, but that wasn’t.”

      “If only life were that simple.”

      “Yeah. If only,” he agreed, forcing himself to ignore the forlorn sadness in her eyes. He shrugged. “Maybe it can be, once we resolve the past and its problems.”

      “If we can,” she said.

      The three simple words expressed all the doubts