Reckless Hours: a Romantic Suspense novel (Heroes of Providence Book 3) (20 page)

He cleared his throat “About last night...”

He hadn’t intended to blurt it out, but he’d wondered all morning if she’d thought at all about the kiss they’d shared. It wasn’t as if Tammie didn’t have a million other things on her mind. Kissing him had to be dead last on her list of things to worry about.

But he hadn’t been able to let go of it all night. His mind had wandered to thoughts of Tammie lying in the bed next to him. He wondered how she’d feel in his arms. How she’d curl up against him while they slept. And how her warm, naked skin would feel against his. It left him aching with such need for the rest of the night that he hadn’t fallen asleep until the sun was coming up. And when he’d woken up still aching for her, he knew he was in trouble.

Dylan had tried not to think about kissing Tammie on the drive over. But he’d finally decided it would be better to just get it out in the open, so that there was nothing in the way of them getting down to business once they got to the library.

And yet...the more time he spent with Tammie, the more he realized there was a hole in his life that needed filling. And that kiss had done a pretty good job of starting that.

“You must be exhausted,” she said. “You left the mansion very late. Early.”

She was talking about fatigue, but the softness of her expression told Dylan she knew he hadn’t been talking about his lack of sleep.

Okay.
He got the point. Either she didn’t want to relive it or she’d decided there were more important issues at hand. Whichever it was, the moment was gone.

Dylan pressed the clutch and then the gas pedal. “We should start at the library first.”

“The library?”

“I need to use the computer, and it’s probably a good idea to check some old newspaper clippings in their archives. There should be information there you can use to find out about the Davco family. Possibly even the fire. If it was big news, the way people seem to remember, the local paper should have something on it.”

“That library is rather small.”

“True. But even if the library hasn’t been brought into the twenty-first century, they must have town history written down somewhere. If old newspaper clippings haven’t been digitized, they may still have them on microfilm, which would make things easier to search. Anyway, it’s a good place to start.”

“I appreciate you helping me like this,” Tammie said. “I mean, you’re spending all this time helping me find out information about my parents, when you should be looking for Cash.”

“Oh, but I am looking for Cash. Something tells me the whole thing is related and wrapped around Serena Davco—somehow. If I find the answer to one, maybe the dead-end I’ve been sitting at will turn into an open road to answers.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Speaking of Cash, Aurore also finally admitted that Serena knew him.”

He took his eyes off the road for a second. “What did you do? Put truth serum in her coffee?”

“Very funny. I don’t know why she was so open, except that maybe she figures we’re going to find out anyway, so why keep up the pretense?”

“Did you show her the picture?”

“No, but I mentioned it. She said they met while Serena was in college a few years back.”

He thought about it a moment. “The timing sounds about right.”

“Did Cash go to college then?”

Dylan shook his head and shifted gears. “No, but he often worked on drug raids at college campuses.”

“I think Serena was talking about me, Dylan. I think Serena knows who took me when I was a baby, and she might have told Cash. That’s why they didn’t want you here and they’ve been so protective about people getting close to Serena.”

“They’re afraid someone is going to find out the truth. But honestly, after all this time, why would they care if someone knew you were taken from the Davcos? They knew. Obviously Aurore knew. I just don’t understand all the secrecy around it.”

* * *

Dylan drove for a while longer, silently looking at the road and nothing else. Tammie stared out the window as they passed a large farm. The farmer was on a tractor out in the fields, a large cloud of dust trailing behind him as he moved.

As she looked at the fields, Tammie thought of how different her life could have been. She would have grown up here. It was beautiful, but no more so than the small Oregon town that had been her home.

“Are you okay?” she asked, when she suddenly realized how tense Dylan had become.

He sighed, shook his head. “I haven’t been okay about this in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching across and placing her hand over his on the stick shift. She let it linger there. Dylan didn’t seem in any hurry for her to move it “This must be very hard on you.”

“I was away too long,” he said. “There’s a whole lot about my brother that I didn’t know, and that’s upsetting. I feel like I failed him somehow.”

“It takes two to create distance. He could have come to you with his problems.”

“In his own way, he did. But for some reason, he didn’t confide in me about everything. I can see even in that picture that he loved Serena. She’s not just some girl he met on a job. She was someone important to him.”

He finally pulled his hand away, rubbing his hand over the shadow on his jaw. To her surprise, the separation jarred her. She’d meant to give him comfort, but she was startled to realize how much she’d liked the connection and the warmth that now seemed lost.

“I don’t know. I guess I always thought if there was a special woman in his life, he would have told me, you know?’

He paused, downshifted and took the left turn onto Main Street. Tammie held on to her seat as he made the turn. Then he hit the gas and accelerated again.

“Let’s just get to the library. I need to check some things out.”

* * *

The old stone-faced building was in the middle of town, across the street from the white church on the hill. Both buildings looked almost lost amid the throng of cars, vans, and trucks parked on every available inch of grass. People stood at the entrance to the church parking lot, waving orange flags to get motorists’ attention and convince them to pay money to park on the church grounds. A quick glance up Main Street and there were more people with orange flags herding cars deep into empty fields.

It was difficult to get around, now that the auction was in full swing. Unlike yesterday, when they’d been able to drive into town and park, they had to sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic before finding room in one of the makeshift parking lots.

They backtracked to the library, walking past people with empty carts that they’d obviously hoped to fill with a deal or two at the antique auctions.

Dylan held the library door open. As she walked inside, Tammie took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the light. The air inside was stuffy, as if the air-conditioning hadn’t yet been turned on and the windows weren’t providing sufficient air circulation.

Tammie breathed in deeply and followed Dylan up to a small table where a woman was sitting and checking in a pile of books. While he was talking to the woman, she took a moment to look around the room. The library was tiny in comparison to any library she’d ever seen, although it seemed to make the most of every inch of space. Stacks of books were everywhere, and the shelves had little room for two people to pass through. She imagined there probably wasn’t a lot of money to keep the library going and doubted it would hold any information of real value to them.

In the far corner, by a set of open windows and a small oscillating fan, sat a table with three computers. Beyond that, toward the back of the building, was a doorway to another room.

“Their computers were recently updated so they shouldn’t be too bad to work on. I’m going to check my email first. We lucked out. Although nothing has been digitized here, all the local newspapers are on microfiche, all the way back to the fifties.”

She tilted an eyebrow. “Lucky? That’ll take forever to look through.”

“It shouldn’t be too bad,” he said, keeping his voice low. “We have a narrow window to look at. And it’s a lot better than sifting through dusty, old crumbling newspapers in a vault.”

“You have a point.”

The woman behind the table stamped the last book and added it to the pile. Then she got up and walked over to them.

“This is Mrs. Martinez,” Dylan said, introducing Tammie to the woman. “Mrs. Martinez, this is Tammie Gardner. She came all the way out here from Oregon.”

Mrs. Martinez’s gaze lingered on Tammie’s face for a brief moment. “Amazing. Lois Caulfield said the resemblance was striking, but I said it couldn’t be that close a resemblance.”

“Mrs. Caulfield?” Dylan asked.

“She’s a schoolteacher in town, but she works a tent down at the auctions as a second job. She was Serena Davco’s teacher early on, and tutored her some at home when she was under the weather. She saw that load of furniture tumble from the truck and nearly hit you. At first she thought it was Serena, until someone told her your name.”

“She knew Serena well, then?”

Mrs. Martinez started toward the back room. “We all know Serena. She was such a sweet girl growing up. I’ll just get that microfiche from the vault and set you up on one of the machines.”

Dylan made a comical face when Mrs. Martinez turned her back. “They really do have a vault,” he said quietly.

Mrs. Martinez apparently heard. “Oh, yes. This used to be the town hall years ago, but the town grew too big. They used to have town meetings right there in the church across the street.”

“How interesting,” Tammie said.

Dylan stopped at the table with the computers. “I’ll meet you out back,” he said, sitting down at the computer closest to the room Mrs. Martinez had disappeared into.

“Now you’re looking for information about the Davco mansion fire, the young man said?”

“Yes, and any newspaper articles from the week before and one to two weeks after that.”

“I remember the fire, but I was quite young at the time. I don’t recall the month.” Mrs. Martinez handed Tammie a box. “Here are the boxes for that year. I’m afraid you’ll have to look through them to find the dates you’re looking for. We try to keep them in order, but people don’t always put them back in the right place.”

Tammie took the films and after a moment’s hesitation, asked, “Someone I talked to at the auction site mentioned something about a scandal with the church around the same time of the fire. Do you remember that?”

Mrs. Martinez thought a minute. “Scandal? Not that I recall. My family moved to Eastmeadow around that time, but I can’t say I remember ever hearing about a scandal with Pastor Robbins. He’s the only pastor I’ve known.” She took Tammie’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “If you need me, I’ll be right out front. This should get you started, though.”

Tammie settled in the back room, at the microfiche machine. The films were labeled with the year, but not the month.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a long afternoon,” she muttered.

From where she was sitting, she could see Dylan settled into a chair at the computer closest to the doorway. He seemed to command the space around him. No woman with a pulse could walk into this library and not notice a man like Dylan Montgomery. He was quite a handsome man, strong and resolute. That kind of strength wasn’t just in muscle, but in character. That combination was sexy as hell.

As she scrutinized the dates on the black and white films whizzing past on the screen, she thought of what it had felt like last night, when Dylan kissed her. The feel of his body so close to her had been a drug so powerful, she still wanted it. She wanted more. The desire to be close was so powerful she had a hard time concentrating on anything else.

For months after her parents’ deaths, she hadn’t thought of dating at all. She no longer pictured the life ahead of her the way little girls dreamed. It was if she’d been stuck in a quagmire for far too long. The thought of walking down the aisle without her father’s arm hooked around hers...well, it all seemed so painful.

Something about Dylan brought those thoughts of family and the future back to her mind. But she quickly pushed them aside as she glanced at the dates on the fiche. She needed to concentrate, not think of how it felt to have Dylan’s lips against her. To feel his breath against her skin and to feel him respond when her hands touched him. It had been just a kiss. But she couldn’t get it out of her mind.

“February,” she muttered to herself as the date caught her attention on the fiche. She was getting closer. She’d been born in June and Mr. Beaumont had told her he’d been working at the auction grounds the night of the fire and remembered the glow. It made sense to check the month of June for any news about the auction and then go from there.

She changed the film and began searching again. Every so often, Tammie would glance over at Dylan. He was sitting in a chair that seemed almost too small for his frame. He was reading details on the monitor intently, and every so often, he typed fast, his face drawn into an adorable frown.

Adorable?

“Oh, puh-leeze, Tammie...” she whispered to herself, rolling her eyes.

She had no time for this. There was more at stake than the way she’d felt when Dylan Montgomery kissed her or when he held her last night. She was acting like one of her students with a crush on a boy in class.