Cradle Of Secrets (6 page)

Susan glared. “Maybe you should be asking Aurore that.”

You can count on that,
Tammie thought.

L
oud cries from the other side of the bedroom wall jolted Tammie from her sleep. Serena was screaming!

Tossing her light cotton robe over her shoulders, she tied the sash and hurried to the bedroom door. Aurore and Susan were already running toward Serena's room when she stepped into the hall.

“Go back to bed,” Aurore said, dismissing her.

Tammie ignored her request and followed them. “What's wrong with her?”

“Just a nightmare,” Susan said, blocking the doorway after Aurore entered. “She frequently has them. Go back to bed. We'll take care of it.”

The sounds of glass being broken and items dropping to the floor echoed loudly through the quiet night. Loud crashes and the scraping of wood against wood had Tammie looking over Susan's shoulder into the room. Serena was now crouched in the corner, her hands pressed against her face and she was sobbing uncontrollably. A tall dresser was turned on its side, the drawers pulled out and clothes spilled on the floor.

Unable to stay back, she pushed past Susan and stepped into the room. Clothes were everywhere. Pictures were strewn all over the bed and on the floor. Tammie reached down and picked up a photograph. She immediately recognized the man holding Serena in a warm embrace as Cash Montgomery.

“This looks like it's more than a simple nightmare. She's clearly very upset.”

Aurore crouched down next to Serena, giving Tammie a pointed stare. “This is not your concern. We'll handle this.”

“Serena?” Tammie moved toward the young woman, who had yet to acknowledge that any of them were even in the room. Susan's hand held her back.

“I agreed to your staying here in this house only because Serena insisted on it.”

“You didn't agree to anything. Serena wanted me here.”

“I've helped to run this house since Serena was a little girl. When Mr. Davco went into the nursing home, he left
me
in charge. If I felt strong enough that you shouldn't be here, you wouldn't be. Clearly this has upset Serena. Perhaps it's best that you leave first thing in the morning and go back to wherever you came from before—”

“Before what? Before I talk to Serena? Before she tells me something you don't want me to know?”

Susan's hand tightened on her arm. “You have no right—”

“Susan!” Aurore interjected.

Tammie wrenched free of Susan's hold and advanced into the room. Aurore stood up straight, but did not offer any resistance.

Not normally one to be so bold, Tammie was surprised that she'd found the courage to stand up to them. Perhaps it was because they seemed so strangely protective of Serena.

It was unquestionably true that Serena was in a delicate state. The last thing Tammie wanted to do was make her condition worse. But she couldn't help but think that her visit had been the cause of this outburst tonight. Nightmare? If that was truly what it was, it was worse than any nightmare Tammie had ever heard of. And she wanted to know, what had caused Serena to become so upset?

“Serena?” Tammie said, reaching to take her hand. She pulled her own hand back immediately, gasping softly, when she realized it was wet. Blood was smeared on her palm and fingers. “You're bleeding!”

“What?”
Aurore turned Serena's wrists over. The angry gash, wet with blood, clearly startled her.

“Susan, get the first aid kit immediately,” Aurore commanded, pulling Serena to her feet.

Tammie pressed her palm against the wound to help stop the bleeding.

“She didn't hit a vein, or it'd be worse,” Aurore said with controlled calm.

Still, blood was seeping from between Tammie's fingers. Upon closer inspection, Tammie saw drops of blood staining the turned-over dresser, as well.

“I…broke…the bottle,” Serena said, shaking her head.

“Be careful of the glass,” Tammie said to her. “You're barefoot.”

Her face registered no response and no pain. But looking at the glass on the floor and the fragments of the broken bottle, Tammie knew the gash had to sting, especially because the contents of the bottle—perfume—surely would have seeped into the wound when the bottle broke.

“Why did she do this?” Tammie asked when they finally got Serena safely into bed.

“She didn't do it on purpose,” Aurore said, examining Serena's wrist. Then she sighed, as if she were relieved. “It's just a surface wound. It could have been worse. Serena, why did you get out of bed? You could have really hurt yourself this time.”

“How often does this happen?” Tammie asked her.

“She has nightmares. She doesn't know what she's doing. She probably won't even remember this in the morning.”

Serena's quiet sobs and vacant stare as she looked around the room stopped Tammie's heart. This was what people meant when they said “the lights are on but no one is home,” she thought. She'd never seen it before. Not like this, anyway.

Both Aurore and Tammie were checking Serena's feet to see if there were any cuts from the glass, checking her nightgown to make sure there was nothing stuck to it. And Serena was complying without any fight. Tammie wasn't sure Serena even knew there was anyone in the room with her, let alone two people putting her back in the four-poster bed and covering her with a heavy blanket.

Aurore turned to Tammie, visibly shaken. Her trembling hand brushed a fallen strand of hair away from her face, revealing her deep scar. “If you're going to be here, I could use some help righting the dresser and cleaning up the glass. But you'll want to get some slippers, so that you're not walking on the floor in your bare feet. We don't need two people getting cut tonight.”

“I'll be careful,” Tammie replied. She reached down and picked up a picture frame that had fallen off the dresser. The glass was broken but the elderly man in the picture with Serena caught Tammy's attention. “Who's this?”

Aurore looked at the picture quickly. “Byron Davco, Serena's father. It was taken before he went into the nursing home.”

Tammie looked at the picture again. “I'd like to go visit him.”

“What on earth for?” Aurore asked.

“He may be able to tell me something about my parents.”

“His Alzheimer's is too advanced. He doesn't even remember Serena. I doubt he could give you any information that would be useful to you. Now, please help me with this.”

The two of them righted the dresser just as Susan came into the room with the first aid kit.

Serena lay still in the bed, whimpering. And she gave no response to the heavy bang of the dresser's feet hitting the pine floor. She just continued to whimper, even as Aurore came back to her side by the bed.

Tammie held Serena's wounded hand up to keep the blood from dripping on the bed. Serena quickly turned and grabbed Tammie's other hand. “They're stealing babies. They steal little babies,” she said, and then began sobbing, falling back onto her pillow. Tammie took her hand and squeezed it.

Susan dropped the first aid kit on the other side of the bed and opened it.

“I can take care of her from here,” Aurore said. The tone of her voice had changed from the way it had been earlier.

“What does she mean about stealing babies?” Tammie pressed. “Is she talking about me?”

“Go back to Oregon, Tammie,” Aurore said, heaving a heavy sigh and shaking her head. “Please. No good can come from you being here.”

Although she was uneasy about leaving Serena, she nodded.

As she walked through Serena's bedroom door, she heard Aurore say, “Make sure you lock your door.”

She turned around, but Aurore had her full attention on Serena.

Tammie walked back to her room, hearing Serena's quiet sobs at her back as she moved. Every once in a while, a floorboard would creak beneath her bare foot, seeming to echo in the hallway.

She stopped at her door and turned back again. The upstairs was illuminated now that everyone in the house was awake. The cold light above her was as harsh and unwelcome as she felt.

Had her visit done this to Serena? Tammie couldn't help but think that somehow it had. While Aurore hadn't been as cold to her tonight as she had been earlier, there was a definite chill in the air when Tammie was around. Aurore had made it clear she still didn't want her in this house, despite Serena's wishes. And Serena wasn't really in any shape to voice her true wishes anymore.

Walking through the doorway, Tammie closed the bedroom door and locked it, as requested. But that didn't make her feel any more secure.

She saw long streaks of light stretching into the room. The heavy brocade drapes were opened wide, letting in the light of the bright moon.

She usually liked her room in pitch darkness. But not tonight. She needed light.
Or enlightenment.
But she knew that wouldn't come just because she wanted it.

The fact that she'd been woken from a dead sleep earlier surprised Tammie. She was still on West Coast time, and she normally went to bed late, doing paperwork at the kitchen table, for lack of a social life to keep her busy. A quick glance at the clock told her it was two-thirty in the morning—eleven-thirty West Coast time. If she was home, she probably wouldn't even be ready for bed.

Pulling off her robe, she plopped down on the edge of the bed, intending to crawl back in and see if sleep would claim her, as it had earlier. She should be dead on her feet, but there were too many questions rolling around her head. She'd thought she had questions before she left Oregon. Now they'd multiplied tenfold.

She wouldn't give them any more thought, or at least she'd try not to. If she didn't get back to sleep now, she'd end up being in bed until noon. She wanted to be fresh in the morning, so she could talk with Serena. And after tonight, she hoped Serena would be in a good enough state to talk.

Replacing one thought only led to another that seemed equally disturbing.
Dylan
, she thought with a stir of awareness. He was…interesting. He wasn't the type of man she'd normally be drawn to. He was a bit too gruff for her liking. She didn't like men who were pushy and arrogant. And what kind of man stands in the middle of the road waiting for someone to run him down?

Nuts! The guy was truly nuts.

And yet, she couldn't stop thinking of him. He'd shown a different side, as well. His concern for his brother Cash was endearing. It was clear that they were close and that he loved his family.

His sudden concern for her when she'd made the decision to stay at the mansion puzzled Tammie. Why would he care? They'd only just met. And yet his concern appeared to be so genuine. There was more to this man than the rough exterior he displayed.

She sighed, closed her eyes and offered a short prayer to the Lord that her mother had taught her when she was a little girl.
For this new morning with its light, for rest and shelter of the night, for health and food, for love of friends, for everything Thy goodness sends…Lord in heaven, we thank Thee.

Then she laughed quietly and shook her head. “For crying out loud, he's just a guy,” she said to herself. “It's not like he's Keanu Reeves or—”

Tammie stopped short. Why was she thinking about Dylan Montgomery at all? There was something about him that had stuck with her.

“Yeah, it's that the guy is nuts,” she decided. She already had enough in her life to deal with, and she didn't need to add a guy who was clearly on the wrong side of normal.

The only reason he was of interest to her was that his brother and Serena were somehow connected. Maybe they
could
help each other.

Instead of crawling back into bed, Tammie padded to the window. Resting her palms on the windowsill, she stared out into the backyard. She couldn't see much because the moon had dipped beyond the shadow of the tall pine trees that lined the yard. Reaching wide, she clutched the heavy drapes and began to close them, only to stop when she heard an odd sound and caught the image of a dark form crouched down near the stone wall.

Eastmeadow was out in the middle of nowhere, and there were sure to be a lot of wild animals around. The figure was too large to be a dog. A bear? Were there bears in Western Massachusetts? Tammie supposed so. She'd seen some in the hills of Oregon while she'd been on vacation once. Why not Massachusetts?

She thought of Dylan staying at the campground. The thought of sleeping while wild animals lurked outside the tent gave her the creeps. Even being in a camper wouldn't give her the same sense of security as being on the second floor of a house.

The figure moved and then stood up. Since it was in the shadows, she couldn't make out the details until it moved into the light of the moon and turned its face toward the house, looking up at her window.

With a gasp, Tammmie stepped back into the shadows of the curtain.

That was no bear outside in the garden.