Catching Serenity (31 page)

Father God, am I right in thinking this woman might be Serenity
’s mother? And Justin is Liam, her son? Is that possible? How can it be? Why? Help me find the answers, Lord. I know it could be the key to unlocking the mystery of Serenity’s past and give her what she needs in order to move forward with her life.

As he prayed, the undeniable truth hit him. Even if he discovered the truth and it confirmed his suspicions, he couldn
’t tell Serenity. Yet it was his first instinct since he’d met her. He couldn’t deny the truth.
Lord, I love her.

When he
’d become a psychologist, he’d taken a sacred oath before God and man. Justin was, first and foremost, his patient. And to breach that bond between them would be a violation of his ethics as a Christian and a professional psychologist. Overwhelming helplessness seized him unlike anything he’d ever felt. He prided himself on being a man of truth and honesty, but how could he be around the woman he loved and not tell her what he knew?

Jackson
’s shoulders slumped as yet another, equally painful truth, hit him. Once Serenity found out he knew, and that he’d kept it from her, she might hate him or banish him from her life. The thought of that happening slammed hard against his chest, crushing him under the weight of such an unbearable burden. He was in the worst possible situation he could  imagine—in love with a woman wounded and torn apart by secrets. And he was a man held prisoner by the truth.

“
Oh, Lord,” he said, collapsing in the chair, “what am I supposed to do now?”

~
CHAPTER 33~

During
the morning meeting with the Town Council, Jackson was inordinately distracted. Of course, Serenity picked up on his mood and asked if everything was okay. He liked how she could “read” him but it also made him wonder how long he’d be able to hide what he knew. The whole situation was repugnant and churned his stomach.

After signing the contracts for the playground, they walked out of Town Hall together and Jackson listened as Serenity told him about the plans for
the fall gala to raise additional funds. They’d discussed it a few times and he’d been impressed by how she’d recruited Deidre and some of her well-connected friends. From what she said, a special planning committee was already making plans. While the generous check from the anonymous donor would pay for all the playground equipment, more funds would be needed for the ongoing landscaping and maintenance costs.

“
Thank you for making this a reality, Jackson,” Serenity said. “It means a lot to me that you’d do this for my old neighborhood and especially that it’s named for Danny.” Her shy smile socked him right in the gut and made him feel like the worst kind of friend for not being straight with her.

S
ecretly thankful she was busy most of the day, he made a flimsy excuse about needing to get back to his office for an appointment. While true, he hated keeping her at arm’s length. Ah, the sweet irony. The one person he wanted to share something with was the one person on the planet he
couldn’t
tell. “Call me later?” Serenity said.

The significance of that question was
huge since it was the first time she’d ever asked him. He wanted to groan in frustration and all he could manage was, “I’ll be in touch.” Stupid thing to say. A fleeting glimmer of hurt surfaced in her eyes before she nodded. Giving him a small wave, she hurried to her car, leaving him standing on the steps of Town Hall with a dumbfounded expression.

Returning
to his office, inspiration seized him. He’d send Serenity a card and ask her to meet him at the beach on Friday morning. After a late morning appointment, he walked to the nearest store selling beach supplies and toys. Coming back into the office a few minutes later, he handed the pink plastic sand pail to Audra, practically begging the woman to see if her daughter, Gina, would gift wrap it for him. After all, his assistant was always singing the praises of the gift boutique Gina owned a few doors down from Inner Serenity.

“
Tell her to use the best paper, bow, flowers. Whatever she thinks will make it look elegant and sophisticated,” he said. “Fit for royalty.” When he pulled out a fifty dollar bill and offered it to Audra, he chuckled when he glimpsed the excited spark in her eyes.

“
Let me make sure I understand,” she said. “You’re willing to pay a lot of money just to have a plastic sand pail gift-wrapped?”

“
Don’t forget the scooper thing,” he said, giving her his best grin.

“
I’m sure Gina can make it look real pretty,” Audra said, taking the box from him. “You and Martha Stewart. It’s all in the presentation, huh?”

“
You got it,” he said, starting back into his office. “Trust me, Serenity will appreciate the sentiment.”

“
Ah,” Audra said, “I knew you were more than book smart, Dr. Ross. You understand what goes on in a woman’s heart, and that’s what makes you such a good doctor. And a romantic suitor.” Even though they hadn’t worked together long, Jackson adored this woman. Sure, she flattered him, but it was about more than inflating his ego. Audra was a straight shooter and told it like it is. If he ever stepped over the line, she’d be sure and tell him. Plus, how could he resist a woman who used the word
suitor
?

“
I’m not sure how Gina will reconcile this on the books, but I’m sure she’ll think of something.”

“
Tell you what,” Jackson said, “buy something to justify the gift wrapping. When’s your birthday?”

“
July,” she said, “but you don’t—”

“
Then call it an early happy birthday gift. Does the store offer delivery?”

Audra
nodded. “The young man who works at the print shop next door makes deliveries during his breaks.”

Thanking
her, Jackson pulled out his wallet and handed her another twenty, but she waved his hand aside. “Please stop throwing your money around. It’s only a few steps from the store to Serenity’s office, and I’m sure he can handle it. Don’t you worry. I’ll give him a real nice tip.”

“
Call it an investment,” he said, opening her palm and placing the money inside, curling her fingers around it. “Make sure the guy gets a really good tip for taking it as soon as it’s ready.”

“
I’m only taking your money because you insist,” Audra said, tucking the money into her purse.

Jackson
regretted he wouldn’t see Serenity’s reaction when she opened the box. Thinking of it made him smile. Although not exactly sure of his intent with the invitation to meet her on the beach on Friday morning, the one thing he could tell her was Elise McClaren’s last known address. That would confirm her mother
might
be alive but couldn’t provide any guarantees. Otherwise, he’d wing it, enjoy Serenity’s company and pray she wouldn’t suspect anything.

As it was, during
his last session of the day, he’d barely paid attention. It wasn’t fair to his patient, but he couldn’t help himself. The child had prattled on about something that wasn’t going to scar him for life, and Jackson managed to ask questions when appropriate. A natural chatterbox, the patient was content to talk without being prompted. At least his comments and recommendations at the conclusion of the session seemed to please the boy’s mother, and he was grateful for the presence of mind to jot down notes early in the session.

Turning to
his computer, he typed in
CroisetteShoresDailyNews.com
and clicked the mouse on the tab for “Births and Deaths.” Only a few recent announcements. When he clicked on the Archives tab on the far right of the website, it only listed births within the last couple of years, both in Croisette Shores and the surrounding communities as well as a few out-of-state births with local connections. With a frown, Jackson checked the obituaries, pleased to see the records dated back as far as six years. Sitting up straighter in the chair, he input what information he knew, starting with the bare minimum. Closing his eyes, he whispered a quick prayer. Nothing. He tried again, adding more information, knowing it was probably useless. Nothing. Listing a broader date range, he tried again. Still nothing. Next he searched for the last name “Kincaid” and then finally for “McClaren.”

Sweat broke out on his brow and he typed harder and faster. As a last
resort, Jackson attempted to search the birth records from five years ago. A message popped up saying notices published five years ago were not accessible via the website and to go to the library or check with the Vital Statistics Office. “Been there, done that,” he grumbled under his breath. But Justin’s—Liam’s—records must somehow be “stuck” in cyberspace limbo.

“
This makes no sense!” Exasperated, Jackson collapsed back in his chair and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. How could a child be born and then die with no evidence whatsoever in the public record? Were there rules against publishing such things for some unknown reason? He’d need to make a trip to the library.

Danny.
If he couldn’t find anything about Liam, surely he could find news about a murder in this little town. That would have been huge news five years ago in Croisette Shores. Sitting up, he clicked the mouse to search under the “Archives” tab. “Give me something to go on,” he muttered. After typing in “Daniel Kincaid Murder” in the search box—repeating it three times because his fingers shook and he mistyped—Jackson sat back again, drumming his fingers on his crossed arms, his heart racing as he waited.

As he suspected,
he generated a lot of hits with those keywords for his search. Quickly perusing the list, Jackson chose one at random. Clicking on the article, he waited a few seconds, nearly jumping with the frustration of it all. He didn’t know what he expected, but he knew he was on the verge of discovery. But of what? Leaning forward, he tapped his fingers on the desk.

The website
was unbelievably slow, but finally the article started to pop up on the screen, section by section. Jackson strained to see the photograph appearing on the screen, scrolling from the top down to the bottom. Staring out at him from the computer screen was a photo of Daniel Kincaid. Jackson’s jaw gaped.

Same dark, curly hair. Same dimples. Same smile. Same
...everything.

The same face as Justin.

The same face as
Liam
.

“
He’s alive, Serenity. Your son is
alive
!” Dropping his head to his hands, Jackson wept.

“
Come in.” Working on the estimate for the Cartwright project, Serenity looked up when Kelsie grunted. Her assistant stood in the doorway, holding a medium-sized, square package. Wrapped in shiny, pale blue paper with pastel silk flowers and curling ribbon cascading down its sides, it was exquisite. “What’s that?”

“
You tell me. It was hand-delivered a few minutes ago.” Kelsie held it up, turning and eyeing it from all  angles. “Hope you don’t mind, but I shook it. Doesn’t sound breakable. No rattle, no roll, nothing.” She laughed when Serenity raised a brow. “My dad got my mom something from Tiffany & Co. once and she freaked. In a good way, though. It was wrapped in paper just like this but without all the fancy froufrou.”

“
I’m sure it’s not from Tiffany’s, but it
is
gorgeous, isn’t it?” Serenity pushed away from her desk and smiled when Kelsie bowed low, as though presenting the gift to a queen. “Thank you, my subject. Your loyalty will not go unrewarded,” she said as Kelsie made a big show of presenting it to her. Light as air. “I’d hate to destroy this lovely work of art if there’s nothing inside, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Who delivered it? Was there a card, a note, anything?”

“
Kenny from the print shop a few doors down brought it. He delivers stuff from stores all over town for tips when he’s on his break. No card, but he said it was for Princess Serenity, thus the reason for my bow. You know, if it didn’t sound totally lame, I’d say you have a secret admirer.” Kelsie’s eyes grew rounder. “Hey, maybe it’s from that mysterious guy who came in the other day.”

Serenity frowned.
“He didn’t come back, did he? You promised to tell me if he did.”

“
No, he didn’t. And I keep my promises.”

“
Didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Serenity said, putting the box on her desk.

“
I sure hope you’re going to let me watch you open it because the suspense is killing me.” Reaching for it, Kelsie laughed when Serenity put a hand on her arm.

“
I’ll do it, thank you.” Lifting the edges on one side, she repeated the same on the other side and slid the box out of the wrapping easily enough. It brought to mind Christmas mornings with Mama beaming and Dad snapping photos as she tore into her presents beneath the gaudy, over-decorated tree in the family room. This gift was wrapped much too pretty to destroy it.