Hidden Talents (21 page)

Now, as he walked through the fog beside Serenity, Caleb had a fleeting memory of what he'd felt that night as he stood beside Roland and watched the small foal stagger upright on wobbly legs.

He recalled the sense of relief he had experienced, but most of all he remembered the short-lived sensation of sharing the moment with his grandfather. It was one of the rare times when Roland had seemed genuinely pleased with him. He had grinned and ruffled Caleb's hair with his big, work-worn hand.

“We did it, son. You want to name him?”

“Windstar,” Caleb said.

“Windstar it is,” Roland agreed. “He's going to be a fine stud. Good blood in him. The best.”

Caleb shook off the old memories as Serenity spoke softly beside him.

“I just thought of something,” she said. “Jessie told me she locked up Ambrose's cabin. The real estate agent in Bullington has the key. How are we going to get inside?”

“I doubt if that will be much of a problem. No one here in Witt's End seems to be very security conscious. I haven't seen a decent lock on any door yet. Worst possible case is that we'll have to jimmy a window.”

Serenity gave him an odd look. “You sound like you've done this kind of thing before.”

“I haven't, but I'm a fast learner.” In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Caleb was starting to feel an exhilarating sense of excitement.
I'm having an adventure
. He smiled to himself.

“Caleb? Is something wrong?”

“Probably. But I'm not going to worry about it right now.” When this was over he was going to make love to Serenity, he thought. The adrenaline flowed like wine through his veins.

“What will we do if we don't find anything useful in Ambrose's files?”

Her question sobered him instantly. “I'm not sure. After we've searched Asterley's records, I'll talk to Franklin. I need to find out everything I can about how he was contacted and what arrangements were made for the payoffs. Maybe we'll get some clues from that.”

“I still can't believe that anyone here in Witt's End is involved.”

“I don't see how the blackmailer could be anyone except someone from Witt's End,” Caleb said. “And after what you told me about Zone's predicament, you'll have to admit that there are a lot of things you don't know about your friends and neighbors.”

“You've got a point, I guess.” Serenity huddled deeper into the hood of her jacket. “But I've known most of them a lot longer than I've known Zone. She's a newcomer.”

“Just because you've known someone a long time doesn't mean you know all their secrets.”

“No.” She fell silent beside him.

Ten minutes later the darkened bulk of the Asterley cabin materialized in the thickening fog. The trees around it loomed like specters keeping watch at an open grave. Caleb almost groaned aloud.
I'll be damned. I'm developing a vivid imagination
.

He had never allowed himself to be the imaginative type except when it came to business. Outside of business, imagination was a dangerous thing. It fed on emotion.

“Something about this house gives me the creeps now,” Serenity whispered as she studied the cabin. “Every time I come here, I remember finding Ambrose's body at the foot of those basement stairs.”

“I'm not surprised. That kind of memory tends to stick with you.”

Caleb led the way around to the back porch. He climbed the steps and tried the door. The knob did not turn.

“Is it locked?” Serenity asked softly.

“Yeah.” Caleb moved along the porch to the nearest window. He pushed tentatively and felt it give. “Looks like Jessie didn't bother to check the windows when she closed the place.”

“Maybe she forgot.”

“Either that or the lock is broken.” Caleb shoved the window open. A musty smell assailed his nostrils. “It's pretty stale in there.”

“I'm not surprised.” Serenity watched anxiously as he slipped into the dark interior of the kitchen.

“Okay, your turn.” Caleb reached out to help her.

Serenity scrambled over the sill and peered around. “I can't see a thing.”

“We'll have to find our way to the basement stairs by touch. I don't want to use the flashlight while we're inside this place. Someone might notice.”

“This way, I think.” Serenity took a few tentative steps into the inky shadows.

Caleb ran his fingers along the bottom of the window before he followed her. “I was right about the lock. It's broken.”

“Probably has been for years. Ambrose was never what you'd call a handyman. Oooph.”

“What's wrong?”

“I've found the basement door. Just walked into it. Good thing it's closed.”

“For God's sake be careful. I don't want you taking a header down those stairs.”

“Don't worry. Ah, here we go.”

The squeak of old hinges told Caleb that Serenity had the door open. He moved toward the sound. His eyes were adjusting to the deeper darkness of the cabin now. He could make out Serenity's shape near the basement entrance. “As I recall, there's a handrail on the left.”

“I know. I've already got one hand on it.”

Caleb found the rail and the first step. He reached back to pull the door shut. Then he found the light switch on the wall and snapped it on. The stark glow of the bare ceiling bulb lit the room with a gloomy light.

“That's better.” Serenity paused briefly on the step below Caleb and then started down into the basement.

Caleb followed. “You said that he filed by date, and within that, by name. We'll start with the most recent years and work back.”

“What are we looking for?”

“I don't know. Anything that doesn't look right,” Caleb said. He pulled open the first drawer.

Her spirits had been high when they began their venture, but thirty minutes and three drawers later, Serenity was losing hope. She was in the middle of a drawer marked P, and thus far had found nothing unusual.

“These files are incredible,” Caleb said as he opened a drawer marked “T thru V.” “I'm starting to change my mind about Asterley. Not only was he a hell of a photographer, he knew how to keep decent files. Do you realize how rare good record keeping is? I can't tell you how many businesses I've seen get into trouble because of lousy filing systems.”

Serenity froze. “What did you say?”

“I said Asterley kept excellent records.” Caleb frowned intently as he peered into an open file.

“Not that.” Serenity was so elated that she lost her place in the row of manila folders. The only examples of Ambrose's work that Caleb had ever seen were the photos that had been taken of her. “What did you mean when you said that he was a hell of a good photographer?”

Caleb didn't look up from his methodical examination of the files. “Judging by those shots he took of you he…Damn.”

“What's wrong? What did you find?” Serenity glanced over his shoulder.

“I should have started with this drawer. I guess it just seemed too obvious.”

Serenity stared at the folder in his hand. The name Ventress was written on the tab. “Uh-oh.”

“That sort of sums it up, doesn't it?”

“Ventress isn't a very common name, is it?”

“No.” Caleb jerked the folder out of the file and opened it wide. He stared down at the single item filed inside. “Damn it to hell.”

“It's a record of sale,” Serenity whispered.

“For a set of photos to Franklin Ventress. For the sum of five thousand dollars.”

“Good lord.” Serenity angled her head to get a better view. “What's the date?”

“The twentieth of October.” Caleb glanced at her, his eyes hard. “Just a couple of days before you came to my office to sign that contract and casually mentioned in passing that you were being blackmailed.”

“I wasn't casual about it,” Serenity said defensively. “I just didn't think it was such a big deal at the time. How was I to know you'd fall out of your tree when you got the news?”

“Let's not start that argument again.” Caleb closed the folder. “Come on. We're getting out of here.” He shut the drawer and headed toward the stairs.

“Suits me.” Serenity slammed her file drawer closed and hurried after him.

At the top of the stairs, Caleb hit the light switch, plunging the basement back into darkness. He opened the door and urged Serenity out into the heavily shadowed kitchen.

She found the way to the open window by touch. When she reached it, Caleb's hands closed around her waist. He hoisted her up and sat her on the sill.

Serenity swung her legs over the edge and landed on the back porch. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and adjusted her hood up over her head as Caleb climbed out through the window. He tucked the file folder inside his jacket and reached for her hand.

“Let's go,” he said.

Serenity didn't need any encouragement. She hurried along beside him as they made their way down the steps and into the moonlit fog.

“I don't understand any of this,” Serenity said. “Why would there be a record of sale to your uncle that dates back to the twentieth? I thought he told you that he received those photos the day before yesterday.”

“Yes.” The single word was as sharp and savage as a razor. “That's what he told me.”

“But I was the one who got blackmailed first,” Serenity continued. It was difficult to think clearly because Caleb was forcing the pace. She was getting breathless. “I received copies of the photos and the threat at the hotel on the morning of the twenty-third. If Franklin had already bought the photos from Ambrose, who sent copies to me?”

“Good question. One of many I intend to ask Franklin.”

“You think he's had them all along? But that doesn't make any sense, Caleb.”

“I think it does,” he said roughly.

“This is no time to go mysterious and enigmatic,” Serenity grumbled. “You're not Sherlock Holmes and I'm no Dr. Watson. I want some answers, Caleb.”

“So do I. And I'm going to get them.”

Serenity abruptly realized that he was furious. The anger in him was all the more dangerous because it was so tightly controlled. She had never seen him like this, not even on the day when she had told him that someone was trying to blackmail her with a set of nude photos.

“Uh, Caleb, I think maybe we should talk about this before you do anything rash.”

“Later.”

“Sure. Later,” Serenity said agreeably. “When we get back to my place, I'll make us a nice cup of tea and we can sit down and discuss this whole thing very carefully before you pick up the phone and call your uncle.”

Caleb did not bother to respond. Serenity risked a sidelong glance, trying to see his expression. It was impossible.

She was contemplating a variety of soothing remarks when a dark, predatory-looking shadow materialized out of the fog directly in front of her. She stifled a small shriek as Caleb drew them both to a sudden halt.

Blade stepped out of the trees, the rottweilers at his heels. “Thought I heard you two,” he said so softly the words were almost inaudible.

“We're just out for an evening stroll,” Caleb said quietly. “What the hell is your excuse?”

“We got a problem, Ventress,” Blade said. “You want to give me a hand?”

“Problem?” Serenity realized she was automatically following Blade's lead and keeping her own voice down. “What kind of problem?”

Blade looked at her. “Don't know how close he is. Probably best to take you home first, then go after him.”

“Go after who?” Serenity demanded in a fierce whisper. “If this has anything to do with the big invasion, I vote we postpone the counterattack until tomorrow. It's getting very late.”

“We're in a hurry here, Blade,” Caleb said impatiently. “What's this all about?”

“I increased the patrols around Zone's place,” Blade said. “Heard she was so nervous she was spendin' the night with Adriadne. Just came from my last check. Someone broke in through the window. Trashed the place.”

“Oh, my God,” Serenity whispered. “Maybe she did see him after all. Maybe he's come after her.”

“Who?” Caleb demanded.

“The man she told me about this morning. Her ex-fiancé, Royce Kincaid. She said she was terribly afraid of him. He's one of the reasons she came here to Witt's End. Today she told me she was afraid she'd seen him at her window last night. She told herself it was just her imagination, but she was so scared, Ariadne invited her to spend the night at her place.”

“Hell,” said Caleb. “If it isn't one thing, it's another.” He took her arm and started through the trees. “Let's get Serenity home, Blade. Then we'll go take a look at Zone's cabin.”

“Right.” Blade turned to lead the way. Styx and Charon moved off on silent paws. The dogs had a distinctly businesslike air about them tonight.

“I'll come with you to Zone's place,” Serenity said.

“No, you will not,” Caleb said. “I want you where I know you'll be safe and sound. I'm going to have enough to worry about as it is.”

“You mean because you're going after a prowler?”

“No, because I'm going to spend what's left of tonight running around out here in the fog with a crazy conspiracy buff who's armed to the teeth.”

“Told you before, I ain't crazy,” Blade said without any show of annoyance.

“I know you did. I forgot.”

Serenity saw the glow of her porch light in the distance. “I'd rather come with you, Caleb.”

“It makes a hell of a lot more sense for you to go into the house, pick up the phone, and call Ariadne and Zone. Warn them that there's a possibility of trouble, got that? Make sure they check all the doors and windows.”

“Yes, of course.” Serenity instantly saw the sensibleness of that suggestion. “Zone has a gun.”

“Tell her to barricade herself in a room with Ariadne and her gun. Tell them to stay there until they get the all-clear from one of us. Tell them not to answer the door for any reason. Then start calling everyone else in town. Make sure they're awake and alert.”

“I understand.”

“Fine.” Caleb halted at the bottom of the porch steps. He pulled Serenity close and kissed her with rough urgency. Then he handed her the folder he had taken from Ambrose's files. “Go.”

Serenity hurried up the steps. Caleb, Blade, and the dogs waited until she went inside the cottage and closed the door.