Secrets Rising (16 page)

That immediately produced another sick sensation at the thought that it would bother her if Jake had someone to call, if he were involved with someone, if he felt close to someone and shared his feelings with that unknown woman.

Of course she had no reason to get upset at those images. Jake was her investigator. She neither wanted nor expected anything more. He couldn't and wouldn't fill the void in her soul.

So she'd kissed him. So they had a man/woman attraction. They'd get over that as soon as this case was finished and each of them returned to his own world.

As soon as she had a world to return to.

Jake's lips quirked upward in an expression that more nearly resembled a smirk than a smile. He cast her a quick, knowing glance that sent the blood rushing to her face.

"All business, ma'am," he said. "I'm on the clock." He drove in silence for long enough that she wondered if he was going to refuse to discuss his mysterious calls. "I talked to a couple of guys on the police force in Dallas who owe me favors," he finally said when he'd apparently decided he'd tortured her sufficiently. "I asked them to check out Charles Morton's past in Williford, Ohio."

"Why?"

"Standard procedure. A hunch. Whatever. He seems to be involved in this cover up. We probably won't learn anything, but, like I said, you follow a lot of blind alleys until you find the right one."

The thought of Charles Morton being in any way involved in her life sent a shudder of revulsion along Rebecca's spine.

"Want me to turn down the a/c?"

"No. I'm comfortable." Or at least, her discomfort couldn't be solved by something so simple as turning down the air conditioning.

As they drove to Doris Jordan's house, the veneer of the small town seemed to have slipped, and Rebecca noticed things she'd missed the day before...peeling paint on some of the houses, weeds that dotted occasional yards, two kids fighting over a bicycle, another with a skateboard who'd fallen and skinned his knee. Like her hopes, the town had acquired a big dose of reality overnight.

Doris' house, however, still held its haphazard charm. She greeted them at the door with a welcoming smile.

"Come in. I'm so delighted to see both of you again."

"It was kind of you to invite us, Mrs. Jordan." Jake held the door for Rebecca to enter and placed his hand at the small of her back, just the way he'd done the first time they'd visited Doris. And she had the same reaction as the first time, as every time he touched her...an electrical surge, a desire for the touching to continue, to accelerate.

Deliberately she moved away from him, past Doris and into the house.

"Jake—may I call you Jake?" Rebecca turned to see Jake nod and return Doris' smile. "And Rebecca. You must call me Doris. Mrs. Jordan sounds so formal, and I've never been a formal person." She led them through the living room.

Rebecca felt as though she had left her problems on the porch. They would still be there when she went out again, ready to leap onto her back and drag her down, but for the moment she could share the tranquility of Doris' world.

"I hope neither of you is a vegetarian. I've made chicken salad sandwiches. My own recipes for both the chicken salad and the bread. Edgar always called this my ladies'-club-lunch, though I never belonged to a ladies' club, and he seemed to like it well enough."

The dining room table was set with more of her flower garden dishes, a platter of thick sandwiches, a large bowl of potato salad, a plate of brownies and tall glasses of iced tea with an extra pitcher on the sideboard.

"It looks delicious." Rebecca took the chair indicated, across from Jake. It would be so easy...and so reckless...to let him become a part of this escape from reality, to relax for the course of this meal and lapse into the feeling that the two of them shared more than a job, that he was her luncheon partner.

But then the meal would be over.

And reality had a way of cutting into the soul with a sharp, jagged edge when it hit those who foolishly lived in a fantasy world.

As they ate, Doris led the conversation along avenues as light and palatable as her homemade bread, avoiding the issues of the dress and Rebecca's parentage. Doris was a true Texas lady. Meals were not the place for business topics or anything stressful.

Jake was doubtless right about her wanting their company, but Rebecca didn't care. She needed Doris' nonthreatening company, too. She needed this time out from the unfamiliar world she'd been thrust into with her parents' deaths.

"What do you think of our little town?" Doris asked as she passed the plate of brownies to Jake who'd inhaled two sandwiches and one brownie already. "Quite a change from Dallas, I imagine."

Jake took two more brownies. "Thanks. Yeah, Edgewater is definitely different."

"Are you both from Dallas originally?"

"The Metroplex area," Jake replied. "I lived pretty much all over, from Mesquite to Ft. Worth to Red Oak to Lewisville and all points in between."

"So your family moved around a lot?"

"You could say that." He gave Rebecca a glance that was almost conspiratorial, acknowledging shared information to which the two were privy, information which gave them a sort of link. Almost, but not quite.

"Rebecca's from Plano," he continued. "I think her family stayed put a little better than mine." He neatly diverted the conversation from himself.

Rebecca experienced a small, illogical thrill that Jake had shared his family history with her but not with someone else, though she knew he was probably only protecting Doris' genteel sensibilities.

"My parents had a restaurant in Plano and a house a few blocks away. We spent more time at the restaurant than at home."

"Then you never had to do dishes."

Rebecca laughed. "Actually, I did. My mother thought it was important that we lead as normal a life as possible so every chance she got, we ate at home even if she and Dad had to run back to the restaurant immediately. Which left me to clean up."

"Your mother sounds like a wise woman. You must have loved her a lot. It shows when you talk about her."

"Yes," Rebecca said. "I loved them both a lot." It was true. Whatever might have been lacking in their relationships, she had loved her parents. A fact which only made their betrayal harder to accept.

"And now you're feeling very confused."

"A little." That was an understatement.

"Perfectly normal. It takes a while to adjust to death, and you've suffered a double loss. Not only did your parents die, but you've discovered they weren't what they seemed."

Rebecca nodded. The crushing events, spoken in Doris' calm voice, became, if not less devastating, at least shoved into a category that might one day be dealt with.

"More tea?" Doris lifted the pitcher, her hand trembling slightly with the weight. A strong woman who had survived more than her share of tragedy.

Rebecca extended her glass, and Doris poured the translucent amber liquid. "On the other hand," she continued, "your parents were exactly what they seemed." She refilled Jake's glass and her own, set the pitcher down and returned her gaze to Rebecca. "They were people who loved you. I don't know what I would have done after Ben's death then Edgar's heart attack and subsequent death a few years ago if it hadn't been for my daughter-in-law, Mary. She's the light in my life. I couldn't love her any more if she were my natural daughter."

Rebecca swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. "I understand what you're saying. Nothing will change my love for my parents. I just need to know the truth—where I came from, what my mother looks like, why she didn't want me."

Doris' eyes were suddenly sad. "I wish I could change your mind, convince you to take what you have and be happy with it."

"What I had," Rebecca corrected. "I was happy with what I had, blissful in my ignorance, but with some little piece always missing. Anyway, now it's gone, all in the past."

Doris rose, laying her napkin on the table. "Our past is a part of us. It's never gone. Shall we move into the living room? Please feel free to take your tea with you. I'll bring the brownies." She winked at Jake.

The time out was over. Back to the big game.

"We have bad news," Jake said as they went into the comfortable living room. Again he took a seat in the large chair while she and Doris sat on the sofa. "We've lost the blue dress that belonged to Rebecca's birth mother."

"We were hoping you might help us figure it out. I questioned the maid who cleaned my room, and she suddenly lost the ability to speak English."

Doris frowned. "That has to be Lucinda. She's worked at the motel for years. Of course she speaks English. She was born right here in Edgewater." She looked from Jake to Rebecca, confusion deepening on her soft features. "Lucinda's always been a completely honest person. She used to clean house for me when I had the dress shop. She went to school with my daughter-in-law."

"Mary Jordan?"

"Yes. Have you met Mary?" Doris and her daughter-in-law apparently had a good relationship which probably meant the Mary they'd met at the library wasn't Mary Jordan. That Mary was not a content, loved person.

"Does she work at the library?" Jake asked.

"Yes, she does. She's been there for years." So much for Rebecca's perspicacity. But she had been right about one thing. The woman in the library had tragedy in her life. "She ought to be the head librarian," Doris continued, "but Eunice Waters won't retire. She acts as though all the words will fall out of all the books if she isn't there every day to keep them in line."

"Mary was talking to a man," Rebecca said, "a tall, thin man. Did she remarry after your son's death?"

"That would be David. He teaches at the high school. He'd like to marry her, but she's never gotten over Ben. I've encouraged her to get on with her life, but..." She shook her head sadly. "Mary's never been the same. Ben's death changed her completely. She almost had a nervous breakdown when he died. She wasn't even able to attend his funeral. I understand how she felt. He was my son, and a part of me died with him, but we have to go on. For all she's done for me and as close as we are, she can't seem to help herself or even let me help her. She reminds me a lot of you. Much too stubborn for her own good."

Against her will, Rebecca thought of Jake's suggestion that Ben Jordan had been having an affair and left the woman—her mother—pregnant when he died so suddenly. Knowing her husband had been unfaithful would explain Mary's change after her husband's death. It would even explain her animosity to Rebecca, assuming she somehow knew Rebecca's identity. Everybody else in town seemed to.

"Your son must have been quite a guy," Jake said, encouraging Doris to talk about Ben Jordan, his mind apparently running along the same channels as Rebecca's.

"Yes, he was," Doris agreed. "Edgar and I were always so proud of him. Edgar owned a hardware store, and we'd hoped Ben would take over. But from the time he was a little boy, he had his heart set on two things...marrying Mary Baker and becoming a police officer." The lines in Doris' face seemed to soften as she gazed into the past. "We worried about his choice of career, of course, but then he went off to the army and nearly died. We thought if he survived that, surely he could survive being a policeman in a quiet place like Edgewater." She blinked away the hint of moisture that appeared in her faded eyes.

Rebecca exchanged glances with Jake. Was Doris simply trying to change the subject, or was there something about her son's murder she didn't want to discuss with strangers?

"You always thought what?" Jake prompted heartlessly.

"Nothing, really. It's hard to be objective when you're personally involved. As a mother, of course I felt they didn't try hard enough to find Ben's killer, though I'm sure they did. He probably headed straight for Mexico. We didn't have computers and instant communication in those days. He could have gotten away fairly easily."

"Edgar and I accepted Charles into our lives because he saved Ben's life, but—" She shook her head slowly as she studied the depths of her glass of tea.

"Please," Rebecca encouraged. "I need to know."

"We need to know anything you can tell us," Jake interpreted smoothly, putting her request on more of an impersonal level. As it should be. However, left to her own devices, Rebecca would have told Doris how she felt about Charles.

Doris sipped from her glass of tea then set it on a coaster on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. "My son was a rescuer, always bringing home stray cats and dogs. When he started school, he was already a head taller than most of the children his age. He was a self-appointed guardian for the underdog. I can't tell you how many times he got into fights because a larger child was picking on a little one. That's why he was so determined to become a policeman, to protect the defenseless, to help people."