Cradle Of Secrets (4 page)

Less than fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of 322 Riverview Road. Dylan had kept a close watch on the car as it drove behind him, making sure Serena didn't try to ditch him by turning down one of the many winding country roads in these parts. He'd been caught on a few by accident these last few weeks.

With a quick breath, he pushed the car door open and climbed outside. She was still sitting in her car, just staring at the mansion, which must have been grand at one time, but now looked like something out of a gothic movie. The brick walkway leading to the front steps was starting to crumble and was covered with moss. Although the flowers were well tended to and the shrubs were trimmed, the wooden gate and the siding on the main dwelling were in serious need of a can of paint.

The flash of fear on Tammie's face as she came up beside him didn't make his resolve waiver. The key to finding his brother was getting this woman to talk to him about their relationship. This woman who claimed her name was Tammie Gardner.

Well, maybe today it was. There had been some rumblings at the diner about mental health issues when he pushed for information about Serena Davco. He'd play the game a little while longer, earn her trust and then he'd get the answers he needed. Maybe being in her own surroundings would make her feel more comfortable.

With a hand placed gently on her back, he walked with her over the brick pathway. At times, it felt as if he was even pushing her toward the front door.

She flashed him a quick smile that hinted of nervousness as she twisted her hands together. Puzzled, he nodded toward the doorknob, but she surprised him by reaching out and ringing the doorbell.

B
ill was right, Tammie thought. She needed serious therapy. In a week's time, she'd quit her job, traveled clear across the country and hooked up with a crazy man who'd led her to an old stone house in the middle of nowhere.

And she'd willingly followed him
.

Heart pounding in her chest, she waited for someone to answer the bell. The bushes on both sides of the porch were tall, creating a tomblike enclosure in front of the door. A spring breeze shook the large shrubs and made a wind tunnel out of the covered entryway, adding to the cold dread consuming her. Old, dry leaves swirled around her feet.

Tammie turned and forced a smile at Dylan, darting a glance to the street, where her rental car sat parked. She could leave now, end this nonsense and beg to get her job back.

Sighing, she turned back to the door. Leaving now wouldn't change anything. There'd always be questions that needed answering. And until she got those answers, she wouldn't stop looking for them. She'd come this far. She had to go the distance.

Her hand was poised to ring the bell again, but the heavy, carved wooden door swung open.

Tammie didn't know what she'd expected to see on the other side of the door, but the shocked look on the face of the young woman who looked outside echoed what Tammie had felt in the pit of her stomach earlier, when she saw that picture of Serena Davco.

“Miss Serena? What are you doing outside?” the woman, wearing a maid's uniform, said. Her blond hair was pulled back and tucked underneath a white kerchief. The smell of lemon filtered out into the spring air. They'd probably interrupted her cleaning, Tammie surmised.

Confusion mixed with anxiety within Tammie as the young woman continued to stare with wide eyes, and Tammie lost her tongue for a moment.

“Is Serena Davco available?” Dylan said from behind her.

The woman looked past Tammie to where Dylan was standing and scowled. “You again? What have you done? Aurore will not be happy about this.”

Something prickled the back of Tammie's neck.
Aurore.
Where had she heard that name before? “May we come in?”

The woman was obviously flabbergasted, but she stepped aside. “Of course.”

Once inside, Tammie looked around. The wide foyer was richly decorated, with an old drop-leaf table that held a large colorful pottery vase with flowers. Tammie knew nothing about antiques, but the pieces she saw looked quite old, though they seemed to have been well cared for over the years. None of them matched the contemporary style Tammie normally favored, but the room just off the foyer held a homey elegance that was inviting.

Noise from the back of the house roused the young maid's attention.

“Susan?” a voice called out.

“Don't go anywhere,” the woman said to Dylan, then disappeared down the hall to answer the call.

Within seconds, voices were raised, but Tammie found it hard to hear anything that was being said in the other room. She gave her attention to the room where she and Dylan had been left, taking in all the ornate details.

“Anything look familiar?” Dylan asked.

The mantel in the dining room, adjacent to the room they'd entered, caught Tammie's attention. There were pictures lined up along it. But as much as Tammie wanted to see the pictures, see the woman who lived in this house, they hadn't been invited to go any farther than the room they were in.

She turned to Dylan, who was leaning against the doorway with his arms folded. “No. Should it?”

“You live here.”

He was probing her with his dark eyes.

Tammie's shoulders sagged. “I told you—”

“Yeah, your name is Tammie Gardner. I get that. But you're also Serena Davco. The question I'm asking myself is why you're continuing to use a different name? Why the pretense now that we're in familiar surroundings?”

She lifted her arms, but then let them fall to her sides again. “I don't know Serena Davco, and I've never been here before in my life. I'm just as curious about all this as you are.”

“Yeah? If you're not Serena Davco, who do you suppose posed for that picture?”

Dylan pointed up the carpeted stairway, which led to a landing. Between two large stained-glass windows sat an enormous painting of a pregnant woman with a little girl with dark brown curls sitting on the floor beside her legs. The woman's face clearly matched her own. Even closer than the picture Dylan had showed her.

A chill raced up Tammie's spine, causing her to shiver.

“I have no idea. But you can be sure I'm going to find out.”

The voices in the hallway grew louder.

“You just left her alone with him?”

An older woman charged into the foyer on the heels of the young maid, who Tammie guessed was Susan. A sense of déjà vu made her skin crawl. Nothing about this house or this town was familiar to Tammie—except this older woman. She'd seen her face somewhere before. Or rather, she'd seen the devastating scar that marred her cheek and neck. It had been sometime in her youth, but for the life of her, Tammie couldn't remember the details. All she remembered was how frightened she'd been.

The woman with the scar stopped short, eyes wide and gasped. “What on earth is going on here?”

“What—? We're here to see Serena Davco,” Tammie said.

Although the woman tried to hide it, Tammie caught the almost imperceptible change in her expression before she shifted her attention to Dylan.

“You again?”

Tammie whispered to him, “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a funny way with people?”

“I get that a lot,” Dylan said dryly, in a voice loud enough for all to hear.

“So you've had a run-in at this house before?” Tammie asked.

The scarred woman folded her arms across her chest. “I told you never to come here again.”

“Yeah, you did. But this time I was invited.”

“By whom?”

Dylan gestured toward Tammie.

“It's amazing, isn't it, Aurore?” Susan said in a hushed tone.

Eyeing Tammie again, the woman sneered. “You think bringing an imposter here is going to get you what you want? You're mistaken.”

Tammie blinked at her hostility. “Imposter? No, no, my name is Tammie Gardner. I wasn't trying to fool anyone.” Turning to Dylan, she said quietly, “What's going on here?”

“I don't care what your name is or what your intentions are. You both need to leave here immediately. Susan, call the police.”

Dylan sputtered and took a step into the room. “What little law enforcement Eastmeadow has is tied up in the center of town, getting ready for the auctions. I came here to get some answers about my brother. As soon as I get them, I'll be sure to leave and not come back. Until then, we're not going anywhere.”

“Aurore, Serena will be up soon,” Susan said, darting a glance at the grand stairway.

“Go upstairs and check on her while I handle this.”

“Aurore.” Tammie reached out and touched the scarred woman's arm—a gesture she never would have made as a child, because disfigurement frightened her so. But the years suddenly melted away, and the memory of this woman standing in the kitchen with her mother came rushing back. An eerie sense of excitement filled her. “Of course. I remember that name. I remember you. You knew my parents….”

Susan stopped on the stairs and turned toward them, putting her hand to her mouth.

“Susan! Upstairs!” Aurore said urgently. Turning back to Tammie, she said, “You need to leave and never come back.” The older woman gripped Tammie by the upper arm and firmly moved her toward the door, but Tammie held her ground.

“Connie and Aaron Gardner. You knew them. You came to the house one night. My mother was crying and you were trying to comfort her, but she never told me why. I heard her call you Aurore, and I asked her what that was. She told me about the northern lights. She wouldn't tell me why she was crying.” Tammie's heart was pounding, and her eyes were fixed on Aurore's face.
“I remember you.”

“You're surely mistaken. I've never been to Oregon.”

“I don't believe the lady ever mentioned she was from Oregon,” Dylan said firmly, standing like a brick wall in front of the path to the door. “The only way I figure you'd know something like that is if what she's saying is true.”

The grip on her arm eased a fraction as Aurore took a controlled breath.

“We moved to another house right after that. But you were definitely there, in Winchester.”

It made sense now. After her parents' death, she'd gone back to the house in Winchester to try to figure out why they'd been acting so strangely at the end. But it was only now that she recalled the night Aurore had come to visit them.

“Did you go to see them again before they were killed? Is that why they wanted to leave on that boat trip so quickly?”

Aurore's face held no emotion, but when she spoke, her voice was hard. “Neither one of you belong here. This is the Davco home. You're not welcome.”

Tammie swallowed, found courage from somewhere deep in her soul. She glanced up at the painting on the wall, and then at the woman who so clearly wanted nothing to do with her. “Am I a Davco, as well? Tell me!”

“You certainly are.”

The room seemed to lose its air as all eyes turned to the woman standing at the top of the stairway. From behind her, Dylan gasped. Seeing a picture, even the portrait on the wall was one thing. Seeing the woman face-to-face was totally amazing.

Susan stood behind the fragile woman at the top of the stairs, practically in tears. “Aurore, I tried to stop her….”

“I thought…This is unbelievable,” Dylan said, expelling a quick breath.

Tammie stared at the woman, whose face was so much like her own and yet so different. The differences might be minor, but to Tammie they were distinctive. Serena Davco's nose had a slight hook at the tip, where hers was straight. The fullness of Tammie's face lacked the exotic air that Serena's thinner face seemed to have. They shared the same dark hair, cut at about the same length, but in different styles. Although they were tired-looking, Serena's eyes were a mirror image of her own.
The same eyes as the woman who sat with the little girl in the portrait.

Tammie swallowed, nerves raising goose bumps on her arms.

“
You're
Serena Davco?” Dylan asked.

The woman pulled her terrycloth bathrobe tighter. “That's right.”

Guilt stabbed at Tammie as she took in Serena's disheveled clothes and worn appearance. Still trembling, she said, “I'm sorry we disturbed you.”

“Nonsense. I always enjoy company,” she said, her voice slightly slurred. Then she chuckled softly. “And surprises.”

“This is one huge surprise,” Dylan chimed in from behind. “For me, anyway.”

“They were just leaving, Miss Serena,” Susan said, taking the woman by the upper arm. But Serena quickly wrenched away and gripped the banister.

“We have a few minutes to talk to the lady,” Dylan said. “If you're up to it, that is.”

Through tired eyes, Serena looked sharply at Susan, then at Aurore. Then she turned to Dylan and Tammie again. “They're always t-trying to keep me from company.”

Aurore sighed impatiently. “You're not well, Serena. You need your rest. Now go with Susan to your room.”

“It's my house. My company.”

Serena swayed, and Susan grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You're both always hovering,” she said, pulling away. “I'm f-fine.”

She didn't look fine. Tammie was far from fine herself. The room seemed airless now, and Tammie fought to take each breath as she looked up into that face that looked so much like her own. “Maybe we should come back another time, when you're feeling better, Serena.”

With disappointment in her eyes, Serena shook her head. “Oh, you can't leave now. I've been waiting for you.”

“Susan, bring her to her room. It's the medication talking,” Aurore said, turning to Tammie quickly.

The hair that framed the older woman's face drew back, revealing the extent of her scarring. The fear Tammie had felt as a child, when she caught her first glimpse of that scar, came crashing back to her now, shaming her. Whatever had happened to Aurore to cause such a scar must have been devastating.

“She needs her rest,” the woman said sharply.

“Don't leave. Please…s-say you won't leave,” Serena pleaded from the top of the stairs.

Something stirred deep inside Tammie. She felt a connection with this woman so powerful that she threw out all reason. Her pulse thrummed at her temple. “I won't leave you, Serena.”

Even as the words flew out of her mouth, uncertainty crashed forward, but she pushed it away. The answers she was looking for were here—as well as a whole slew of new questions.