Scent of Roses (4 page)

Gwen's gaze swung from Elizabeth to Carson, lingered there a moment as if she were contemplating the two of them together, then she smiled.

“Well, what a nice idea.” She was a petite woman with red hair and attractive features. She and her husband had a couple of little boys, if he recalled correctly, and he usually did.

Carson returned her smile. “I think it was a very good idea.”

Gwen's gaze returned to her friend. “I'll call you the first of the week. We definitely need to have lunch.”

Elizabeth nodded. “See you then.”

It was nearly time to start the proceedings. Carson seated Elizabeth at the white-draped head table and took a seat beside her.

The room began to quiet as the last of the guests took their places at the tables. The benefit was being held in the banquet room of the Holiday Inn, where most local occasions took place.

Carson introduced Elizabeth to the other people seated at the front of the room, some of whom she knew, and they all conversed politely as dinner was served, the usual rubber chicken in some kind of dull brown gravy, lukewarm mashed potatoes and overcooked broccoli. Dessert followed, a decent chocolate mousse that managed to satisfy the holes in his appetite the scant meal had been unable to fill.

Then the speeches began. Sam Marston talked about the progress they were making at the youth farm. John Dillon, one of the high school counselors, spoke about the opportunities the farm provided for troubled teenage boys. Carson was introduced last and received a big round of applause.

He straightened his tuxedo jacket as he moved behind the podium. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It's gratifying to see such a fantastic turnout for such a worthy cause.” More applause. He'd always liked the sound of it. “Sam told you a little about the farm. Let me tell you a little about the boys enrolled in Teen Vision.”

He began with a brief history of some of the youths who had graduated from the farm. By the time he had finished describing the tragedies suffered by some of the young men and how Teen Vision had changed their lives, the entire hall had fallen completely silent.

“You've all been generous in your contributions. I hope you'll continue to support the farm as you have in the past. Tonight we'll be accepting donations. Just take your checks over to the table next to the door and Mrs. Grayson will give you a receipt you can use for your income taxes.”

Everyone applauded vigorously and Carson sat back down next to Elizabeth.

“You were wonderful,” she said, her pretty blue eyes shining. “You really painted a picture of what those boys have suffered.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It's a very worthwhile project. I'm happy to help in any way I can.”

She was looking up at him and smiling. He liked that in a woman, that she appreciated a man and let him know it. And he liked the way she looked in that dress, sexy yet classy. Not too overblown. With a little more money to spend on the suits she wore, she would even look good in those.

“The band is starting to play,” he said. “Why don't we dance?”

Elizabeth smiled. “I'd love to.” She rose from her chair and led the way to the dance floor. Carson watched the sway of her behind and smiled approvingly. Sexy but not too flashy, a good memory for names, he had discovered, and a decent conversationalist, as well.

Interesting.

A slow song began. He eased her into his arms and her hands slid up around his neck. They stepped into the music as if they had danced together a dozen times and he liked the way their bodies fit together.

“You're a very good dancer,” she said.

“I try.” He thought of the ballroom dance lessons his mother had insisted he take when he was a boy. The effort was paying off now, as she had promised, though at the time he had hated every minute. “I've always loved to dance.”

“So have I.” Elizabeth followed him easily, making him look even better than he usually did. Her waist was trim, her body firm beneath his hands. He had always found her attractive. He was surprised he had not given her more consideration before.

Then again, his political ambitions had loomed further in the future. Recently, that had begun to change.

The song ended. Carson followed Elizabeth off the dance floor, then both of them came to a sudden halt as a dark-haired man stepped in their way.

“Well, look who's here,” Carson drawled, staring into his brother's gold-flecked brown eyes. Times changed, but some things didn't. His feelings for Zach—or lack thereof—were one of them.

 

Elizabeth looked from Carson to the man standing toe-to-toe with him, dark-haired, dark-eyed. Unbelievably handsome. The realization hit her—she had seen this man at the barn. Though his face had been hidden behind a pair of wraparound sunglasses, it was the man she had seen working on the barn at Teen Vision. And now she knew why he had seemed so familiar.

“I thought you weren't coming,” Carson said to him, an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. Elizabeth knew why. The man standing in front of her was Carson's half brother.

“I changed my mind.” Zachary Harcourt's gaze moved to her and he flashed a smile that looked incredibly white against his dark skin. “Hello, Liz.”

Her whole body stiffened. “Hello, Zach. It's been a while.” But not long enough, she thought, remembering the last time she had seen him, remembering how drunk and insulting he had been, his eyes dilated from whatever drug he had been using at the time. She'd been a senior in high school, working part-time at Marge's Café. “I didn't know you were back in San Pico.”

“I'm not. Not officially. Though I gather you're living here now.”

“I've been back for a couple of years.” She didn't tell him she had seen him out at Teen Vision, but she silently questioned Carson's judgment in allowing a man like his brother around a group of impressionable teenage boys.

“Nice party,” Zach said, glancing around at the women in formal gowns, the men in tuxedos. “If you like rubber chicken and a band whose usual gig is the veteran's hall.”

“This is San Pico, not L.A.” Carson said stiffly, reaching up to adjust his black bow tie. “We're here to raise money, in case you've forgotten.”

“After that tear-jerking little speech you gave, how could I possibly forget? Nice job, by the way.” Zach's tux looked expensive, Italian, judging from the fabric and cut, Armani or maybe Valentino, designers who specialized in clothes for men with the lean, hard build of a fashion model.

She wondered where he got the kind of money to buy clothes like that and thought maybe he had moved up to selling drugs these days. At least he no longer had the dazed look of a user.

“Mrs. Grayson will be happy to take your check,” Carson taunted.

Zach arched a sleek, nearly black eyebrow. “I'm sure she'd be willing to take yours, too.”

Carson cast him a warning glance. There had never been any love lost between the two brothers. It looked like that hadn't changed. “You said you weren't coming. Why'd you change your mind?”

Those dark eyes strayed toward Elizabeth. “I figured it would give me a chance to say hello to a few old friends.”

Z
ach watched Liz Conners dancing again with his brother. She was better-looking than he remembered, a little taller, her figure nicely filled out. She hadn't forgotten him, that was for sure. Those pretty blue eyes looked cold as stone whenever she glanced in his direction, which wasn't all that often.

It was remembering those eyes that had persuaded him to come. He used to have the major hots for Elizabeth Conners, but she was too smart to give him a second glance. She'd been right to stay away from him. Besides going after anything in skirts, he was a loser on the fast track to nowhere. Zach had been curious tonight to see how much Liz Conners had changed.

Substantially, he thought as he studied her graceful movements on the dance floor. She was far more confident than she had been in high school, and even more attractive, yet she still seemed as easy to read. He could clearly read her dislike of him in every look she cast his way.

Zach almost smiled. His interest in Liz had irritated his brother, as he had been certain it would. Perhaps that was the real reason he had come. He wondered how long the two of them had been dating, how heavily involved they were. He wondered if Liz Conners was sleeping with his brother and was surprised to realize it bothered him to think that she was.

She laughed at something Carson said and he remembered that laugh from more than ten years ago when she had been working in the café. It was a feminine laugh, crystal clear and a whole lot warmer than her eyes.

Zach turned away from the dancing couple and started for the door. Curiosity had motivated him to come. He'd had to have his personal assistant stop by his apartment and pick up his tux, had to have it couriered to San Pico to get here in time for the benefit.

He had purposely arrived at the banquet late, missing dinner and all of the speeches except his brother's. Grudgingly he admitted Carson had done a good job. The donations would be even higher than he had hoped.

It galled him to be indebted in any way to his half brother, but when he thought of the kids at the farm it was worth it.

“Hey, handsome. I didn't know you were in town.” Madeleine Fox stood in front of him, long manicured nails curled around his black satin lapel. She was red-haired these days and looked pretty good that way.

“I just came up for the weekend. I've got to be back in L.A. on Monday.”

“That still leaves Sunday, right?”

“I'm working out at the farm.”

He had dated Maddie in high school. She'd been the wildest thing in town. She was reformed now—mostly. Married to a doctor. But whenever she saw him, she always stopped to say hello, and the invitation was clear in her heavily made-up blue eyes.

She ran a finger down his lapel. “You get bored, you know how to find me.” She had given him a note with her cell phone number on it when he had seen her at the gas station a couple of weeks ago.

“I'll keep that in mind.” He managed to smile and started walking. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a married woman. His black sheep reputation still haunted him in San Pico. He did his best to keep a low profile and except for Lisa Doyle, that included staying away from the town's women.

 

It was Tuesday before Elizabeth could arrange an appointment for Maria with Dr. Zumwalt at the San Pico Clinic. Zumwalt, a tall thin man with iron-gray hair, was a professional, no-nonsense sort of man who understood the young woman's fears, but refused to jump to conclusions.

Elizabeth sat next to Maria in his office, a comfortably furnished room with plain white walls covered with eight-by-ten gold-framed degrees and awards.

Zumwalt picked up the pen on his desk. “Before we go any further, Maria, I'd like to check a few things. To start with, I'd like to know if you've been seeing your gynecologist regularly.”

“I go every three weeks to see her,” Maria said.

“And your hormones are normal, nothing out of the ordinary as far as your blood tests are concerned?”

The black-haired girl shook her head. “Dr. Albright says I am doing very well.”

“All right, then. Let's talk a little more about these hallucinations you've been having. You said you hear voices in your head. Is that correct?”

Maria nodded. “Just one voice, a very small voice. It is soft and high, sort of like a child.”

“I see.” He jotted something down on the sheet of paper on his clipboard. “And at times you say you feel as if you can't breathe.”

She swallowed. “
Sí,
that is true.”

“I don't think it's time yet to worry, Maria. There is a good chance this is merely a case of Anxiety Disorder. In some cases, the symptoms can become extremely severe. Then again, with your mother's history, it's best not to take chances. We'll do the CAT scan first. If we find the least suspicion that something might be wrong, we'll follow up with an MRI.”

Twenty minutes later, wearing a white cotton gown she held closed in the back, Maria followed a uniformed nurse down the corridor to a room filled with machinery. Elizabeth waited outside while the technicians completed the CAT scan, warning Maria that it would be easier if she just lay there, relaxed and closed her eyes.

She didn't, of course, and lying there on the table, her hands started shaking and she began to tremble. With a look of concern and a few soothing words, the nurse slid her out of the machine, gave her a mild sedative, then waited for the medicine to take effect. The CAT scan was finally completed but the results wouldn't be in until next week.

As Elizabeth waited for Maria to dress and join her, the doctor approached her in the hall.

“While we're waiting for the results to come in, I think Maria should get some counseling. As I said, there is a very strong chance we are looking at Anxiety Disorder, or perhaps some form of paranoia. Perhaps Dr. James could spend a little time with her.”

Elizabeth thought it was a good idea. “I'll speak to him about it. I'm sure he'll be happy to talk to her. You'll let us know the results of the test when they come in?”

“I'll have the nurse call your office.”

“Thank you.”

Maria rejoined them just then, dressed once more in slacks and a loose-fitting maternity top. She looked more troubled than ever.

“You mustn't worry, Maria,” Elizabeth said. “The test is done and until we know the results, worrying won't do you a lick of good.”

She sighed. “You are right. I will try not to think about it, though it is not so easy to do.”

“There is one more thing.”

“What is that?”

“Dr. Zumwalt thinks you ought to get some counseling. It's possible you're suffering from some kind of stress that is causing these things to happen in your mind. I'm going to arrange for you to speak to Dr. James. Perhaps he can help you find out what is wrong.”

Maria nodded, but Elizabeth could see she wasn't happy with the idea. It was one thing to have a brain tumor, quite another to think you might be suffering some form of mental illness.

“If we are finished, I would like to go home,” Maria said. “Miguel will wonder where I am if I am not there when he comes in for lunch.”

Watching Maria's nervousness beginning to build again, Elizabeth wondered if the problem might not have a great deal to do with the girl's domineering husband. If so, talking to him might help.

It wasn't going to happen. At least not yet. Elizabeth sighed as the two of them walked down the hall and out into the hot July sunshine.

 

It was just before lunch when Elizabeth returned to the office, a paper bag containing a low-fat Subway sandwich and a Diet Coke gripped in one hand. She set the bag down on the desk just as her phone began to ring.

“Elizabeth? Hi, it's Carson. I just called to thank you for such an enjoyable evening.”

“I enjoyed it, too, Carson.”

“Good, then how about we do it again? I'm having a small dinner party at the house a week from this coming Saturday. Representatives from a nominating committee associated with the Republican Party. They'll be flying in with their wives. I thought you might enjoy meeting them. I know they'd like
you.
”

So it was true. He was thinking of running for office. Elizabeth had never been interested in politics, aside from voting in the elections for whichever candidate she thought would do the best job. Still, it was a fairly high compliment to be included at such an event.

“That sounds like an interesting evening. I'm registered as an Independent. I hope that doesn't make a difference.”

He laughed. It was a very deep, very masculine sound. “At least you're not a Democrat. I'll pick you up at 7:00 p.m.”

Carson hung up and Elizabeth set the phone back down in its cradle. Carson was attractive and intelligent. They'd had a good time together at the benefit. But instead of Carson's image appearing in her mind, his brother's dark visage arose.

Zachary Harcourt had always been good-looking. At thirty-four, he looked even better than he had ten years ago. But there was something different about him now, something darker and harder. He was no longer a boy but a man, one who could take care of himself. He had been to prison, she knew, and it showed in the lines of his face.

She wondered again what he was doing out at Teen Vision and vowed to ask Carson about it the next time they were together.

 

It was Friday, the end of Raul's first week at Teen Vision. Elizabeth wanted to check on him and today she finally had time to take Sam up on his offer of a tour.

Parking her shiny, nearly new Acura in the dusty lot, she climbed out of the vehicle and started toward the main office building next to the dormitory. Sam must have seen her drive in. She had called ahead, so maybe he had been watching for her. He was grinning as he walked out the door, joining her before she'd gotten halfway to the office.

“I'm so glad you could come.” He caught one of her hands between both of his and squeezed warmly.

“So am I. I should have come out a lot sooner.”

“You didn't have a reason to be here. Not until Raul.” He guided her back into the office and showed her around. “We have six full-time counselors. There are always at least two people on duty at any given time.”

He showed her the desk each counselor was assigned, pointed out the tiny bathroom in case she should need it, showed her the small conference room with its faux wood, Formica-topped table and dark-blue padded chairs, a place the counselors could have private discussions with the boys. Then he led her outside.

“Raul is out in the pasture. He's got a nice way with the animals.”

“He has a very gentle side, though he does his best not to show it.”

He took her into the dormitory building, showed her the TV lounge, and one of the shared rooms upstairs. “Each boy has a certain amount of privacy, but we don't allow any locked doors and we have random room inspections a couple of times a day.”

The third building housed the dining hall, the main gathering place for the group. The kitchen was all stainless steel, immaculately clean, and she saw two of the boys in there working.

“We have a full-time cook, but the boys do the cleanup and help with food preparation. We rotate the tasks, so each boy spends an equal amount of time and doesn't get too bored.”

“You're doing a wonderful job here, Sam.”

He smiled, seemed pleased. They headed out to where the new barn was being constructed and as she looked at the group of boys pounding nails, framing the third wall of the barn, her steps unconsciously began to slow.

“What's Zachary Harcourt doing out here? I can't believe it's a good idea to have a man like that around impressionable young boys.” Her gaze locked on his tall frame, shirtless today, his body sinewy and hard, muscles rippling as he pounded in another nail.

Sam followed her gaze and started to laugh.

“Why is that funny? Zachary Harcourt spent two years in state prison for manslaughter. He was drunk and high and he killed a man. From the look of his expensive clothes, he's still involved in something illegal.”

Sam was still grinning. “I take it you aren't too fond of Zach.”

She thought about the day he had embarrassed her in front of the patrons in the café. How he had shoved her up against the wall outside and tried to kiss her. How he had run his hand up her leg, trying to get under her silly little pink uniform skirt. “Zachary Harcourt was never any good. I doubt that has changed.”

The smile slid off Sam's face. “Why don't we walk over there in the shade? There are a few things about Teen Vision that you ought to know.”

He led her in that direction, into the shade of a thick-trunked sycamore not far from the barn. “The Zachary Harcourt you knew years ago no longer exists. He died during those years he spent in prison. By the time he got out, another man had taken his place. That is the man you see working over there.”