Hidden Talents (24 page)

“And so an economy is born,” Caleb murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just an observation on the basic nature of certain cosmic forces.”

“Oh.” Ariadne went back behind the counter and busied herself amid a pile of cookbooks.

Serenity watched Caleb dunk the last of his biscotti into his coffee. She leaned forward to whisper across the table. “Might as well face it, nobody cares what happened in that cave. They're just grateful you took care of everything, including Blade. Everyone trusts you now. You're one of us.”

“Sort of an honorary resident of Witt's End, would you say?”

“You could say that.”

Caleb smiled wryly. “Nice to know I belong somewhere.”

“So why are you leaving Witt's End today? Are you going to pay a visit to your office in Seattle?”

“No, I talked to Mrs. Hotten this morning. Everything's under control there.”

“Where are you going?”

“Ventress Valley. I've been doing some thinking.”

“What about?”

“The sales receipt for your photos that we found in Asterley's files.”

Serenity groaned. “In the excitement, I'd forgotten all about that.”

“I didn't forget about it.”

“Obviously.” Serenity watched him intently. “All right, tell me what you've been thinking.”

Caleb put his hands around his mug and contemplated his coffee. “I'm thinking that maybe my first conclusion was wrong, maybe there weren't two blackmailers. I'm thinking that Franklin was behind this whole thing right from the start. With a little help from Asterley.”

“Franklin?” Serenity was stunned. “What do you mean? Why would he do something like this? It makes no sense.”

“It all fits, Serenity. Let's assume that receipt we found is telling us the truth. Franklin bought those pictures from Asterley on the twentieth. He sent them to you anonymously a couple of days later in an effort to get you to call off your business deal with me.”

“Why would he care about one of your consulting projects?” Serenity asked quickly.

“He wouldn't have given a damn about it if it had been just another project. But if he suspected that I was getting involved with you, and if he knew about those photos, he'd have been worried.” Caleb's mouth twisted. “Franklin and Phyllis both share my grandfather's fear that my bad blood will show in the end.”

“In other words, they're all afraid that you'll get seduced by a woman with a shady past,” Serenity concluded.

“Something like that.”

“But how could Franklin have known about me?”

“Good question.”

“Well, I guess, in a way, you have met with the fate they feared most, haven't you?” Serenity smiled ruefully. “My past is so clouded, I don't even know what my parents looked like. At least you've got pictures of your mother and father. I don't.”

“It must be strange not to know what your parents looked like.”

“It is,” Serenity whispered. “But I can feel a link with them sometimes. I survived last night because of this.” She instinctively touched the griffin that was once more securely hung around her neck. “Their one legacy to me. And because of Blade's self-defense instructions. If it hadn't been for all of them, I would have died.”

“Don't remind me,” Caleb said grimly.

Serenity lowered her hand. “It's odd, isn't it?”

“What's odd?”

“How connected we all are with each other, even when we think we're alone in the world, even if we don't particularly want to be connected. It's as if, like it or not, we've got bits and pieces of other people stuck to us. Take you and Blade, for example.”

Caleb grimaced. “What about Blade and me?”

“The two of you shared an experience in that cave last night that must have left its mark on both of you. No one but you and Blade will ever really know what happened. For the rest of your lives, whenever you think about it, you'll each remember the other because you went through it together.”

“Psychically bonded with Blade forever. What an unnerving thought.” Caleb loudly set his coffee mug down on the table. “I think we're straying into the metaphysical realm here. That's a bit out of my field. I'm a business consultant, remember?”

“One of the best in the Pacific Northwest. Or so you keep telling me.”

“Damn right. And I prefer to operate on one mathematical plane at a time, if you don't mind. Back to Uncle Franklin.”

“I'm listening.”

“As I started to explain before I was interrupted, my theory is that he got hold of those photos and sent them to you first in hopes that you'd realize the game was over and quietly retreat from the scene. If you didn't quit at that point, if you took the risk of telling me about the photos, he assumed I'd end things.”

“But instead of ditching me and my project, you followed me to Witt's End. You informed me that there was no way out of the contract for either of us because you had your precious business standards to uphold.”

Caleb raised his brows and took a swallow of coffee. “My theory is that when Uncle Franklin realized that his scheme hadn't worked and that I was still very much involved with you, so involved that I brought you home to meet the family, he panicked and took more drastic action.”

“He called you and claimed that he was being blackmailed.”

Caleb nodded. “He told me that I had to stop seeing you because someone had threatened to send your pictures to the
Ventress Valley News
.”

“And thereby drag your noble family name through the mud again.” Serenity considered that. “It makes sense up to a point. But there are a couple of things that need an explanation here.”

“Yes, there are.” Caleb leaned back in his chair and contemplated the door of Witt's End Grocery through the café window. “The first big question is, how did my uncle learn that those photos even existed in the first place?”

“Exactly. He's a banker, for heaven's sake. Not the sort to hand around with folks from Witt's End. Who could have told him that the pictures were available and that he could buy them from Ambrose Asterley?”

“Asterley himself, probably,” Caleb said. “I still think he must have started all this. But not because he wanted to control the process of change here in Witt's End. He had a much simpler goal. He wanted money. From everything I've heard about your friend Ambrose, he was always trying to talk people into loaning him cash to buy new photo equipment, right?”

“Well, yes,” Serenity admitted uneasily. “That's true.”

“If we assume that he did know about the old scandal because of his newspaper addiction, we could also assume that he sent you to me in the first place with the idea of setting up a lucrative blackmail scheme for himself.”

“I still find it hard to believe, but I suppose it's possible that Ambrose was so desperate for money that he contacted your uncle after he sent me to see you.”

“He told Franklin that the Ventress name was once again being threatened by a scandalous affair, and then offered to sell him pictures of the woman involved. Franklin probably took it from there.”

“He bought the photos for five thousand dollars,” Serenity said, thinking it through. “He used them first to try to frighten me off. When that didn't work, he went to you and claimed he was being blackmailed.”

“There's a certain logic to it,” Caleb said.

“The good news is that with your theory, we don't need to worry about the possibility that there's a second blackmailer running around,” Serenity said.

“Between Asterley's greed and Uncle Franklin's concern for the family name, the whole thing can be explained.”

“Why the missing negatives?” Serenity persisted. “The sale to Franklin was legitimate. Ambrose documented it as if it were a straightforward business arrangement. Ambrose wasn't blackmailing anyone. He had nothing to hide. He had a right to sell those photos.”

“Maybe he sold the negatives to Franklin, too. Franklin would certainly have wanted them.”

“Maybe. So what are you going to do?” Serenity asked.

Caleb's eyes were as hard to read as a vision pool. “I'm going to go back to Ventress Valley today and verify my theory.”

Alarm flashed through Serenity. She forced herself to remain outwardly calm. “Uh, just how do you plan to go about discovering whether or not you're right about the connection between Ambrose and your uncle?”

“I'm going to have a showdown. I intend to get Franklin, Phyllis, and my grandfather in one room together, and then I'm going to confront Franklin. I'm going to force him to admit his role in this.”

“Caleb, I'm not sure that's such a good idea.”

Caleb looked at her. “Franklin probably thinks that I'll tiptoe around this thing. He's banking that I'll cave in to the so-called blackmail threat for the sake of the family. But he's wrong. I'm going to blow it wide open.”

“Your uncle was only trying to protect the family name. Admittedly, he's gone too far, but surely you can understand why he's doing it. I think you should handle this with some delicacy and tact.”

“Delicacy and tact?” Caleb's smile was even colder than his eyes. “All of my life I've handled my family that way, and what has it gotten me? I've done all the things that I was supposed to do. I've met every demand, done everything that was asked of me, tried to satisfy everyone. But it's never been enough.”

“What do you mean, it's never been enough?”

“No matter what I've done, I've never managed to make up for what my parents did. Every time my grandfather and the others look at me, they don't see me, they see my father's fatal flaw and my mother's bad blood. Every time I look into their eyes, I can see them watching and waiting for the big day when I'll prove that all their suspicions about me are right.”

“Oh, Caleb.” Serenity reached out to touch his arm.

“The big day has finally arrived.” Caleb got to his feet and reached for the jacket he had slung over the back of the chair.

“Wait,” Serenity said quickly. “Caleb, I don't want you to do anything rash.”

“Rash? That's funny coming from you.” Caleb leaned down and kissed her fiercely on her open mouth. When he raised his head, his eyes were gleaming. “You're the one who taught me the meaning of the word.”

She grabbed his sleeve as he started to move away. “Listen to me. If you force a confrontation in your present mood, you could tear your family apart.”

“Do you think I give a damn?”

“It's your family, Caleb.”

“No, it's not. I've never really been a full-fledged member of the Ventress family. What's more, I'm through trying to become one. I put up with a lot from them over the years, done everything they've ever asked of me in hopes of paying off the blackmail debt I inherited from my parents. But you know what they say about blackmail: It never ends. The only way to stop it is to stop payment.”

Serenity jumped to her feet. “If you're going to insist on a head-on confrontation with your family, I'd better come with you.”

“Forget it. I don't want you involved in this.”

“But I am involved.”

“You're not coming with me and that's final.”

The door of the café opened. Webster, clad in his customary dirt-stained overalls, stood in the entrance. He beamed with triumph as he opened his hand to display a smooth, round, palm-sized rock.

“What d'ya think, Ventress?”

Caleb glanced at the rock. “Webster, I'm in a rush right now. Why don't we discuss this when I get back?”

“This sucker is perfect,” Webster said. He gave Caleb a sly look. “And I know where I can get a hundred more just like it. All real beauties like this one.”

“Like I said, I'm in a hurry at the moment.”

“Take it,” Webster urged. “Put it in your pocket. Carry it around for a while. See how it feels.”

“All right, all right, give it to me.” Caleb grabbed the rock and dropped it into the pocket of his jacket. “Now, would you mind getting out of the way? I've got a long drive ahead.”

“Sure thing, Ventress.” Webster frowned in concern. “You ain't leavin' for good, are you?”

“I'll be back tonight. We'll discuss the marketing potential of your rock as soon as I've had a chance to take a close look at it.”

“Okay.” Webster's expression lightened. “Wanted to thank you for what you did last night.”

“Forget it. I didn't do anything.”

“Sure.” Webster winked knowingly. “Whatever you say, Ventress.”

Caleb ignored him. He went through the door and strode swiftly along the wooden sidewalk to where his Jaguar was parked.

Serenity grabbed her coat. “Excuse me, Webster.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to get in your way.” Webster stood aside as Serenity slipped past him. “Ventress is gonna like that rock. You'll see.”

“I'm sure he will.” Serenity paused briefly to glance back at Ariadne. “Tell Zone I'm going out of town with Caleb. I'll be back tonight.”

“I'll tell her,” Ariadne said.

Serenity whirled around, raced through the door and ran toward the Jaguar. Caleb was already behind the wheel. He switched on the engine just as she reached the car.

Serenity yanked open the door and hurtled into the passenger seat.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Caleb asked.

“I'm coming with you.” Serenity buckled her seat belt.

“No, you're not.”

“You can't leave me behind.” Serenity sat back in the seat and locked her door. “You're my business partner, remember? I never abandon a business partner. I've got certain standards to maintain.”

“Damn,” Caleb said.

He snapped the Jaguar into gear and pulled out onto the road.

T
EN MILES DOWN THE MOUNTAIN
C
ALEB FINALLY SPOKE
again. “This isn't going to be pleasant, Serenity.”

“I know.”

“I won't allow you to interfere.”

“I won't interfere.”

“The fact that you're along isn't going to change the way I deal with the situation.”

“I understand.”

“You can't talk me out of doing this my way.”

“I realize that.”

“It's not too late. I can turn around and take you back to Witt's End.”

Serenity put her hand on the long, taut muscle of his upper thigh. “You're not going into this alone. Remember what I said earlier about everyone having bits and pieces of other people stuck to them?”

“I remember.”

“Don't look now, but you've got a whole lot of me stuck to you. And I don't come unstuck very easily.”

Caleb couldn't think of anything to say to that. She was right, more right than she could possibly know. With every passing day and night, he was increasingly aware of just how much of her had stuck to him, of how much she had become a permanent part of him, a vital, necessary part.

Caleb glanced into the rearview mirror and saw his own reflection. The image was solid and real and alive. He definitely looked pissed off, he thought, but he looked solid and real. Alive. He could touch things. He could make a difference. And things,
people
, could touch him.

“Darn,” Serenity muttered.

“What's wrong? Change your mind about coming with me?”

“No, that's not the problem.”

“What is the problem?”

She plucked at the long, loose batik printed shirt she was wearing over a matching pair of flowing, wide-legged pants. An elaborately studded belt with a massive buckle marked the waistline of the outfit. “I didn't get a chance to step into a phone booth and change into Miss Town and Country.”

“Don't worry about it.” Caleb glanced at her wild, red curls and smiled. “You look fine the way you are.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Believe me, you've never looked better. Except maybe in those shots Asterley took of you.”

Serenity's head came around with a swiftness that betrayed her startled surprise. “You never really told me what you thought of those photos.”

Caleb recalled the juxtaposition of innocence and ancient, womanly wisdom that Asterley had captured so vividly in the pictures of Serenity. “You were right about them. They're works of art. Asterley made you look like some sort of mythical woodland goddess. Elemental. A force of nature. Beautiful.”

“I'm glad you liked them.” Serenity sounded relieved. “I was a little worried about your reaction. You didn't say much after you saw them.”

“I got distracted by Franklin's phone call, as I recall, and what with one thing and another, never got back to the subject. Those shots of you are stunning.”

“Thanks.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her mouth start to curve in a pleased smile. “And when this is all over,” Caleb added very deliberately, “I intend to make certain that I have the negatives and every single print of those photos in my possession.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“Those pictures are going to become a part of my personal collection of photographic art.”

“I didn't know you had a personal collection of photographic art.”

“I didn't until quite recently.”

For some reason, Ventress Valley did not look nearly as picturesque and charming to Serenity this time as it had the last. Perhaps it was the gray light filtering through the leaden clouds, which created the sullen atmosphere. Then again, she thought, maybe it was her own uneasy mood that transformed the landscape from a quaint slice of Americana to a scene imbued with brooding menace.

Whatever the cause, there was no denying that today the fields on the outskirts of town looked empty and forlorn now that the harvest was nearly completed. The shops along the main street of Ventress Valley appeared subdued rather than bustling. There was no colorful wedding party in front of the church to add a note of optimism.

“Are you certain you want to go through with this?” Serenity tensed in her seat as Caleb turned the Jaguar down the long drive that led to his grandfather's house.

“I'm certain.”

“Maybe you should consider a different approach to the problem. Confrontations are always nasty.”

“I warned you this wouldn't be pleasant. I offered to take you back to Witt's End.”

Serenity gave up the last ditch effort to change Caleb's mind. She had known all along that she could do nothing to stop what was about to happen. All she could do was be there with him when he ripped apart the fabric of his past.

The door of the big house opened as Caleb brought the Jaguar to a halt and switched off the ignition. Dolores came out onto the wide porch. Surprise and pleasure lit her features. She hurried down the steps as Caleb and Serenity got out of the car.

“Caleb, what are you doing here? We weren't expecting you.” Dolores smiled at Serenity. “Nice to see you again, Miss Makepeace. I'll have your room ready in no time.”

“Don't bother.” Caleb closed his car door. “We won't be staying long.”

Dolores's smile turned questioning. “What do you mean? You just got here. Surely you'll stay the night.”

“No,” Caleb said. “We won't be able to do that. I'm sorry, Dolores.”

The last of Dolores's smile vanished. “Something's wrong, isn't it?”

“It's a family matter.” Caleb's voice was as bleak and cold as the steel-colored clouds. “Is my grandfather home?”

“He's in the stables with Harry.”

“Will you please call Uncle Franklin and Aunt Phyllis for me? Tell them they're needed immediately here at the house.”

“Of course.” Dolores cast another quick, anxious glance at Serenity. “Franklin will be in his office at the bank. He doesn't like to be disturbed at work.”

“Tell him this is family business,” Caleb said. “Tell him that I said he'd better come here or I'll hold this conversation in his office.”

“Oh, dear.” Dolores twisted her hands in her apron.

Serenity huddled deeper into her jacket. The warm lining didn't offer much protection against the chill in the air.

Roland came around the corner of the house at that moment. He looked startled at the sight of the small group standing near the Jaguar. His eyes went straight to Caleb.

Serenity could have sworn that something warm and welcoming moved in the depths of the old man's gaze, something that might have been hope. It was hidden almost immediately behind a cool, unreadable mask not unlike the one Caleb had learned to wear so well.
Bits and pieces of other people
.

“Weren't expecting you, son. Miss Makepeace.” Roland nodded politely at Serenity and then looked at Caleb again. “What the devil is this all about?”

“It's about the past,” Caleb said. “And the future. Let's go inside and wait for Franklin and Phyllis.”

It was worse than Serenity had anticipated. The atmosphere in the living room was heavier than the air outside. It held more tension, too. She watched Caleb pace back and forth like a caged lion in front of the windows. There was so much dangerous energy emanating from him that she half expected a bolt of lightning to explode in his immediate vicinity.

He commanded the attention of everyone in the room. Roland watched him the way an aging monarch watches the young warrior who will replace him. His grip on the arms of his leather chair betrayed his tension.

Phyllis, her mouth pinched in a disapproving line, sat primly on the sofa. Her back was as straight as an iron bar and just about as flexible. Franklin sat beside her, his brows knitted in a scowl. He looked angry but wary.

“I think we've had enough dramatics,” Roland said. “Tell us what's going on here.”

“What is going on here,” Caleb said, “is a dose of blackmail.”

Phyllis gasped in dismay. Her hand went to her throat. Roland stared uncomprehendingly at his grandson.

Franklin's jaw sagged in stunned amazement. He had to make several attempts before he managed to speak. “You
fool
. What do you think you're doing, Caleb?”

Caleb came to a halt near the window and looked at him. “I'm doing the same thing Roland did thirtyfour years ago when he was hit with a blackmail threat. I'm refusing to pay the price. I'm here to make a formal announcement of that fact to everyone involved so that there will be no misunderstanding.”

“Blackmail.” Roland appeared more confused than outraged. “What the devil are you talking about?”

Caleb did not take his eyes off Franklin. “Why don't you tell him, Uncle?”

“I don't know what you mean,” Franklin blustered.

“All right, if you won't do it, I will.” Caleb switched his focus to his grandfather. “Franklin called me yesterday and told me that he was the victim of an extortion threat.”

Roland froze in his chair. “On what grounds?”

“The usual.” Caleb's smile was fleeting and cold. “Pictures. In this case of Serenity.”

“What the hell?” Roland stared at Serenity.

“Miss Makepeace?” Phyllis glanced quickly at Serenity and then pinned Caleb with a scandalized gaze. “Are you telling us that there are dirty pictures of Miss Makepeace floating around?”

“They aren't dirty,” Caleb said. “They're works of art created by a gifted photographer. And as far as I know, they've only floated as far as Franklin, who, it turns out, was not actually being blackmailed. Just the opposite.”

“The opposite?” Phyllis frowned.

“That's right,” Caleb said. “He's the blackmailer.”

“Me? A blackmailer?” Franklin shot to his feet, his face reddening with fury. “This is an outrage. How dare you accuse me of blackmail? I'm the one who's being blackmailed with those filthy pictures.”

“Christ. Blackmail.” Roland leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. “Not again.”

Franklin rounded on him. “Roland, listen to me. The note said that if I didn't pay ten thousand dollars, the photos of Miss Makepeace would be sent to the
Ventress Valley News
. Just like last time.”

“Damn it to hell.” Roland opened his eyes. His expression was savage. “Goddamn it to hell.”

“The only thing I could do was call Caleb and tell him what had happened,” Franklin said desperately. “I wasn't blackmailing him, for God's sake. I was the victim. All of us were potential victims. It's Miss Makepeace's fault. She brought this disaster down on us.”

“Oh, my God,” Phyllis looked faint. “Roland's right. This is just like the last time.”

Franklin swung around to face her. “Except that I was the one who received the photos this time. Naturally, I did my best to protect the family. I called Caleb at once and told him exactly what sort of woman he had gotten himself involved with. I expected him to handle the problem with discretion.”

“But several days before that you sent the photos to Serenity, didn't you?” Caleb asked with lethal softness. “And in the accompanying note you told her that if she didn't call off her business arrangement with Ventress Ventures immediately, you would send the pictures on to me. You thought she'd cave in to your threat, didn't you? You thought she'd back out of the deal.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Franklin said.

Caleb ignored the interruption. “Instead, she came to me and told me about the pictures and the blackmail threat. You hadn't counted on that, had you? Or if you did take that possibility into consideration, you probably assumed that I'd be so disgusted by the knowledge that Serenity had posed nude that I'd end my relationship with her.”

“Posed nude?” Phyllis's tone rose to a horrified shriek. “Miss Makepeace, have you no shame?”

“I did it for art,” Serenity mumbled. Speaking of art, she thought, the scene was becoming distinctly surreal.

“Art? Don't you dare try to excuse such filth as art. I know your sort,” Phyllis retorted. “You're part of that immoral, left-wing artistic crowd, aren't you? The sort that takes our hard-earned tax money and uses it to fund obscene photographs and foul-mouthed plays.”

Serenity felt as if she had slipped into the Twilight Zone. “I assure you, poor Ambrose never got a dime from the National Endowment for the Arts, if that's what's worrying you.”

“To think that our government has sunk to the level of funding nude photography with that national endowment thing,” Phyllis continued. “It's unconscionable.”

“That's enough, Aunt Phyllis,” Caleb warned.

“I'll say it is,” she snapped. “Franklin is right, this is outrageous.”

“Of course it is,” Franklin declared. “I won't tolerate it.”

“That's my line,” Caleb said. “That's why I'm here today. To tell you that I won't tolerate any more blackmail.”

“Goddamn it,” Franklin roared, “you can't prove that I tried to blackmail anyone.”

Roland shot Serenity a speculative glance and then gave Caleb a sharp look. “Well? Can you prove what you're saying, Caleb?”

Caleb pulled the folded record of sale from the pocket of his shirt. “I got this from Ambrose Asterley's files. It says he sold a set of photos of Serenity Makepeace to Franklin Ventress. You'll notice the date on the receipt. The transaction took place on the twentieth of October, ten days ago. But Franklin only got around to calling me about this yesterday.”

“You're lying,” Franklin hissed.

“No.” Caleb's gaze glittered briefly. “I don't lie, and whatever else he may believe about me, I think Grandfather knows that much. I have never lied to him.”

Roland looked troubled but he said nothing.

“Damn it, why would this Asterley person give you a receipt for a bunch of pictures that he supposedly sold to me?” Franklin asked swiftly.

“He didn't have much choice,” Caleb said. “Ambrose Asterley died a few days ago. I found this record in his files after his death.”

“Impossible. Let me see that.” Franklin charged across the room and grabbed the incriminating slip of paper out of Caleb's hand. He stared at it in dismay for a long time. Then his shoulders slumped. His whole body seemed to deflate. When he raised his head, he looked defeated.