Cradle Of Secrets (3 page)

This was what the clerk was warning her about.

“I'm sorry to hear that. But I have my own problems.” She'd meant to be droll, to let him think he hadn't really scared her earlier and wasn't frightening her now. But her words fell flat.

“I suppose I deserve that. But, please, just a few minutes.”

“I'm busy.”

The man rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, you're looking for a hotel. I'm sure the clerk told you the same thing he told me this morning as I was tossed out of my room.”

“You have a way with people, don't you?”

“The room was already booked,” he insisted impatiently. “And there aren't any other vacant rooms within miles. I'm sure the manager told you that, too. If you insist on finding a room outside of town, instead of staying in your own house, I'll be happy to help you. But before we do that, just answer a few questions about Cash.”

Frustration wound its way through her. “I've never met anyone named Cash. Now, if you'll excuse me…”

He pointed across the street to a small diner that doubled as a convenience store. “I'll buy you a cup of coffee or hot chocolate or iced tea. All I'm asking for is ten minutes of your time, and then I'll be out of your hair.”

“I told you, I can't help you. I have no idea who or what you're talking about.” She yanked at the car door again, but the man pressed his back against it, keeping her from opening it completely.

“You say you don't know Cash. Then how do you explain this?”

He thrust a small picture in front of her, and her blood went cold. The color snapshot had been taken during the winter months. Two people were standing knee-deep in snow, a man wearing a dark green parka, a woman in a cream fur-lined one. She didn't recognize the man in the picture, only that he bore a resemblance to this man who seemed determined to harass her.

But the face of the woman made her swallow hard. It was like looking in a mirror.

“Ten minutes,” the man pleaded softly. “That's all I'm asking.”

Tammie's stomach growled. After her red-eye flight from the West Coast and the hassle of getting a rental car and finding her way out to Eastmeadow, her body had already burned off the energy from the coffee and donut she'd picked up before renting her car.

Her plan this morning had been to find a hotel in town and sleep the day away to recover from jet lag. She hadn't counted on a flight delay, a long line at the rental counter and difficulty in getting a room. If she was going to drive even another half hour to find a place to stay, she was going to need to refuel.

Lord, I have to be mighty tired to be considering a cup of coffee with a crazy man.

There were cars in the parking lot of the diner across the street. That meant people. Safety was already an issue, it seemed, and this guy hadn't proven his intentions were honorable. And there was a good chance that, whatever move she made, he was just going to follow her anyway.

She shut the car door. She wouldn't let him know that seeing the picture had rattled her even more than that episode on the road. He said he had questions, and now she had a string of her own.

“I'm walking across to the diner to get a cup of coffee for myself, and if you happen to walk with me, then I'll listen. But that's all. If you start badgering me again, or make any threats, I'm calling the police.”

His lips lifted into a smile. “Then I'm your man. I've spent the last six months on the force in Chicago.”

“Just six months?”

“No, actually, I spent two years on the police force right out of college. I spent twelve years in the United States Marine Corps, until a little less than a year ago. It felt right to go back to the force after that.”

Why do I get the feeling I should run?
“A Marine, huh?”

He smirked. “I assure you, you're safe with me.”

“So you say.”

Tammie started across the parking lot toward the road in silence.

So, the crazy man was really a cop from the streets of Chicago. And a Marine, to boot.
Go figure.
Well, there was safety in numbers, and if the crazy guy tried anything, she'd be in a diner full of people. Her chances were certainly better there than out here on the street.

Tammie glanced at him a few times out of the corner of her eye. He had to be more than ten years older than her twenty-seven years. He was much taller than her, probably over six foot two. His demeanor had changed considerably. The angry man she'd seen in the middle of the road now seemed to have the manners of a gentleman. He put a protective hand out when, in her fatigue, she tried to step too quickly into the road and didn't see the oncoming traffic, and then he opened the door to the diner for her.

“You're dead on your feet, lady,” he said.

He didn't have to tell her that. She felt like roadkill, and probably looked like it, too.

“Why don't you have a seat while we wait for the coffee?”

The man pulled out a chair from a table that still had wet streaks on it from being washed. He motioned to the waitress, asking for his usual, plus an extra coffee. The waitress gave him a quick smile, as if he were a regular.

While she waited, Tammie rubbed her burning eyes. Fatigue was winning over her.

“You look like you haven't slept in days. Why are you so exhausted?” the man said, lacing his fingers together.

“I don't sleep very well on planes, and I pulled an all-nighter from the West Coast.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “West? What part?”

“Oregon.”

He nodded as the waitress set their coffees on the table with a small stainless steel pitcher of cream and a toasted bagel that smelled wonderful. Her stomach grumbled again.

“I don't even know your name,” she said.

“Dylan Montgomery.”

He slathered the bagel with cream cheese and placed half of it in front of her on a napkin.

Glancing down at the bagel, she said, “You're trying to butter me up with food, Dylan.”

“Is it working?”

She smirked. “Could be. I have a soft spot for bagels and cream cheese. The question is why you're doing it.”

His face showed genuine remorse. “I'm sorry I scared you back there. I know better than to approach a woman like a Neanderthal, especially in anger. It was wrong of me.”

“Why did you?”

He took a bite of his food and swallowed, seemingly weighing his words. “I'm a little tired myself. Not that that's an excuse for my behavior, just an explanation. You're the last person I know who had any contact with my brother, Serena, and I've been trying to see—”

“Serena?” She frowned. “Who's Serena?”

With the coffee cup at his lips, he said, “Serena Davco. That
is
your name, isn't it?”

“My name is Tammie Gardner.”

Dylan paused a second, midbite, and then swallowed. “Tammie Gardner.”

He didn't seem convinced, and she didn't care.

“From Oregon?”

“I grew up in Winchester.”

He motioned toward the uneaten bagel in front of her. “You should eat.”

As she played with the crisp corner of the toasted bagel, Dylan wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back in his seat. “Do you ever feel like you're in some weird science fiction movie where reality shifts every five minutes?”

Tammie shook her head and lifted a torn piece of the bagel, then popped it in her mouth.

Dylan shrugged. “This town will do that to you.”

“Meaning?”

“You say your name is not Serena.”

“No.”

“Then how do you explain that picture I showed you?”

He pulled the snapshot out of his pocket again and slapped it down on the table. The shock Tammie had felt the first time she saw the picture hadn't lessened. The faces might not be a perfect match, but they were very close.

She picked up the photo and stared. “I can't, which is why I agreed to talk to you.”

“The man in the picture is my brother, Cash.”

“I've never seen him before.”

Dylan sighed in disbelief. “Okay. Play it that way.”

“What do you want from me?”

“How about the truth? Cash came here to find Serena Davco—to ‘save' her.” Dylan waved his hands around as if he thought his brother was a little nuts even to have the idea. Kind of like Tammie had thought Dylan was back in the street. “And here you are, with a face that matches this picture. Except you say your name is not Serena Davco.”

She drew in a deep breath, her appetite suddenly gone. Her parents had lived here at one time, and yet they'd never mentioned Eastmeadow to her. There was a woman walking around with her face. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about the possibility that her parents had known this Serena Davco.

“It's not exactly the same. Our faces, I mean. Maybe you can't see it, but our faces are different.”

Dylan leaned forward, his voice low. “Look, Cash said you were in trouble. I'm a police officer. If something has happened and you're in fear for your life, I can help you get protection, from the state police. But I can't if you're not straight with me. And I can't help my brother unless I know the truth about what's going on.”

Wasn't that what she'd come here for? The truth? And yet, with each passing moment, the truth seemed to become stranger and stranger.

Tammie looked down at the picture. “I came here looking for the truth, too.”

His lips tilted into a slight grin that she found striking. He was a handsome man, with strong features and a rugged look that was alluring.

Dylan nodded. “Good. Progress.”

“I think I need to find this Serena Davco and talk to her.”

“Well, join the club. It's taken me a month to get
this
far.”

“You mean you've never met her?”

Dylan lifted his coffee to his lips and paused to stare at this strange woman. He could see what Cash had seen in her. She was much prettier in person, with eyes that seem to light up a room. That wasn't something you'd get from a snapshot.

But she was playing with him, and he didn't like it. He'd spent the last month trying to talk with this woman, and now that he was face-to-face with her, he was getting the runaround. But Dylan could out-game anyone.

She said her name was Tammie Gardner. He'd have to have his old partner in Chicago, Matt, check that name out later to find out just who Tammie Gardner was and what, if anything, she had to do with Cash. Maybe Tammie Gardner was an alias. If so, he'd find out.

“No, I've never met Serena Davco,” he said evenly, then took a sip of his coffee.

She sighed, seeming frustrated.

If she was determined to play this game, then he'd play along with her, earn her trust. Cash wasn't a man to just go off blindly chasing a pretty face. He'd been secretive about his relationship with Serena, and maybe that was a game they'd both played.

It hurt Dylan more than he wanted to admit that his brother hadn't confided in him about something so important until the very end. Until it was too late. He could have helped, if only he'd known.

Maybe this woman had her reasons for not wanting to confess to being Serena Davco in public. Dylan wanted to learn all about those reasons, because he was sure they were at the root of his brother's disappearance.

She put the picture down. “When was this taken?”

“I don't know. But it was the only one I found in my brother's place after he vanished.”

“Vanished? You haven't heard from him at all?”

“No. It's been over two months, and that's not like him. He's always been very close to me and our sister.”

Dylan squashed the guilt that had been eating at him ever since he made the decision to leave the Marines and come back stateside. He'd been ready to re-enlist after a twelve-year span in the military that had been exciting and rewarding.

But then his kid sister Sonia had phoned him in Indonesia to tell him Cash was acting strange and he should think about not re-enlisting. She'd said it'd be better for him to come back to the States.
For good.

He'd ripped up his re-enlistment papers and submitted new paperwork to retire permanently from the Marines. As difficult as it was to leave what he loved doing, he hadn't looked back. His family needed him.

Tammie nodded, nibbled on her bottom lip. “I think it's time to go to this mansion where you say Serena Davco lives and check things out. Do you know where it is?”

He tossed a ten on top of the check the waitress had left in front of him. “Follow me.”