04 Naked Games (2 page)
2
“W
ow,” Mary said. “Just . . . wow.”
ow,” Mary said. “Just . . . wow.”
Despite the craziness of the situation, Catherine found herself smiling. “Yeah. I was pretty speechless too.”
Mary frowned down at the half-empty bottle of beer in her hand. “This calls for something stronger than a Bud Light.” Her blue gaze landed on Catherine. “Do you have any red wine handy?”
Catherine curled her legs underneath her as she polished off the last slice of pepperoni pizza. “There are a few bottles on the wine rack next to the microwave.” She shrugged. “I don’t want any, but help yourself.”
Mary stood and brushed at her jeans. “Be right back.”
Catherine watched her friend leave the room and shook her head. Once more she wondered how she could possibly survive without the tall, dark-haired whirlwind. From the time they’d met, Mary and Catherine had stood by each other. Mary had been a newbie to Catherine’s high school, a transplant from a school up north. She’d been trying to find the physics classroom and Catherine had helped her out. They’d been friends since. Her mother had once described them as twin opposites—as close as sisters but as different as night and day.
When Mary came back into the room she held two full wineglasses. Catherine rolled her eyes as she took one. “I thought I said none for me?”
“After a day like today? You need it, believe me.” Mary took a hearty swallow of her own wine, then said, “Okay, let’s take this party upstairs. We’ve put it off long enough.”
Catherine stood. “I’m afraid of what I’ll find.” She winced and admitted, “Or not find.”
Mary waved a hand in the air. “Catherine, your parents were awesome people. I don’t know what the hell they were thinking by keeping this from you, but they did love you.” In a softer voice she asked, “You do know that, right?”
Catherine nodded. “I know, it’s just difficult not being able to face them and ask that one all-important question.”
“Why didn’t they tell you,” Mary said, knowing exactly what was on her mind.
“Yeah.” Catherine shrugged. “I can deal with being adopted. I can even deal with them wanting to wait for the right moment to tell me. But this feels like a secret. Like they didn’t want
anyone
knowing, not just me.” Unable to look at her friend, Catherine instead stared at the ruby liquid in her glass as she asked, “Were they ashamed?”
anyone
knowing, not just me.” Unable to look at her friend, Catherine instead stared at the ruby liquid in her glass as she asked, “Were they ashamed?”
“Of you?” Mary snorted. “Never in a million years. Your parents were so stinking proud of everything you did. Even when you screwed up they usually found a way to make it out to be a good thing.” Mary patted her on the back and said, “No, this isn’t about shame. And we won’t know anything by standing in the middle of the living room chatting about it either. So, what’s our plan? I know you, you have a plan.”
Catherine laughed and glanced up at the ceiling and knew she was going to have to go up the stairs and dig through her parents’ belongings. “No big plan, not really. I want to go through my parents’ bedroom. There might be something there that can help me figure this mess out.”
She nodded. “What about a safety deposit box? Could they have records locked away at the bank maybe?”
Catherine took another sip of her wine before saying, “No. Mama never trusted the bank. She was old school.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of the expensive crystal. “Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found cash under her mattress.”
Mary wagged her eyebrows. “So, it’s sort of like a treasure hunt.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Catherine said, swatting her on the forearm.
“I’m adorable and we both know it,” Mary replied before taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face the stairway. “Now, scoot. We have secrets to uncover.”
The nudge was all it took to get Catherine out of the room and up the stairs. As she reached her parents’ closed bedroom door, she looked over her shoulder and stuck her nose in the air. “Who knows, maybe I’ll discover I’m royalty or something.”
“Or, like, a long-lost Mafia princess,” Mary whispered, as if imparting some deep, dark secret. “That’d be cool. I have a few people I’d like to take a contract hit out on. My boss for starters.” She cursed. “The little weasel.”
Catherine rolled her eyes as she turned the knob and pushed the door open. “I highly doubt I have Mafia blood in me. I can’t even kill a spider without feeling queasy.”
Mary reached over and flipped the light switch. “But it’d be pretty sweet if you were, right?”
Glancing around the large room with the king-size bed, Catherine felt the now-familiar pangs in her gut. Loss. Grief. It was all there. She could never get used to how empty the room seemed. She spotted her mama’s blue robe hanging on the bedpost and had to swallow back the pain. If she picked it up it would smell like her. Gardenias. Her mother’s favorite scent. “I’d rather be royalty,” she said, trying to keep to the conversation and ignore the sadness welling up inside her.
“Well, let’s hope we’ll find out sooner rather than later.”
Catherine heard the worry in Mary’s voice and turned toward her. “You don’t think Mama and Daddy kept any records here?”
Mary took one last sip of her wine, then placed the glass on the dresser. “There’s only one way to find out. Where do you want me to start?”
Catherine placed her half-empty glass next to Mary’s and looked around. When her gaze came to the closet, she pointed to it. “Start there. On the top shelf there’s a big white box. Mama warned me away from it once when I asked what was in it. Maybe there’s something that might help.”
“She warned you not to mess with it and you listened.” Mary shook her head. “That sounds just like you.”
Catherine laughed. “You would’ve gone right for it the first chance you got.”
Mary laughed. “Damn straight.”
“I’ll start with the desk,” Catherine said. For the next hour they searched the room. Mary had found the big white box, but it turned out to be a dead end. The only thing it contained was some of her father’s old nudie magazines. Just when Catherine was about to call it a night, Mary yelled her name.
Catherine crossed the room to where Mary knelt over the bottom drawer in her mother’s nightstand. “What’d you find?”
Mary stood and moved back a few feet before pointing to the drawer. “Uh, I think you need to see for yourself.”
Catherine’s nerves were shot and she’d had way too much wine, but the serious tone had her alert and sober in an instant. She knelt down and peered inside, afraid to get too close. As if the contents would reach out and bite her. Catherine frowned when she spotted a stack of letters addressed to her mother and a slip of folded paper sitting next to it. Catherine picked up the letters and the paper, then glanced at Mary. “It’s just sitting out in the open. It can’t be anything significant.”
“Not out in the open exactly.” She dropped down beside her and tugged on the bottom of the drawer. To Catherine’s surprise it came loose. “See? A false bottom. I found the letters under it, hidden. Pretty sneaky, really. You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were looking for it.”
Catherine stared down at the letters and felt her stomach pitch. “My mother had a secret hiding place. How is it possible that I never stumbled across this? I’ve lived in the house my entire life.”
“Well, besides the fact that you’d never snoop through your mama’s things, it would’ve been pretty hard to notice. The only reason I did was because I was looking for it.”
She held up the letters and noticed no return address. “I’m afraid to read these,” she admitted aloud.
“It’s the only way you’ll know, hon,” Mary said, placing a soothing hand on her back.
“I know.”
The slip of paper fell from her hand, and Mary picked it up and handed it to her. “Here.”
It was folded in half. With shaking fingers Catherine placed the letters on the floor beside her and began to unfold the paper. She read the faded words and slumped. “It’s just my birth certificate. It lists Jean and Russell as my parents. Nothing surprising there.”
Mary picked up one of the letters and held it out to her. “Open one of the letters, then.”
She frowned. “What if they’re from Daddy? Like love letters or something. I don’t want to read something so private.”
Mary shrugged. “You only have to read enough to find out for sure.”
Catherine was stalling and she knew it. She was afraid of what she might find—or not find.
Time to face the music,
she thought as she dropped the birth certificate into the drawer and took the letter from Mary. As she started to read, her heartbeat sped up. “Oh, my God.”
Time to face the music,
she thought as she dropped the birth certificate into the drawer and took the letter from Mary. As she started to read, her heartbeat sped up. “Oh, my God.”
“What?” Mary asked as she tried to read over Catherine’s shoulder. “Who is it from?”
“My birth mother.” Catherine read the entire letter, then shook her head as if that would help clear away the shock coursing through her. “She talks about being glad that I have such kind people to raise me.”
“Damn,” Mary said in a low voice.
“Yeah.” Catherine picked up another letter. She didn’t stop until she’d read them all. After tucking the last one back into the envelope, Catherine sat back and looked over at Mary propped up against the bed, quietly waiting.
“It was a private adoption.”
“And?”
“I have a sister. An older sister named Gracie Baron.”
“Get out! Seriously?”
“Yep. According to Bridget—that’s my mother’s name—Gracie lives in Zanesville, Ohio, with her father.”
“
Her
father and not your father?”
Her
father and not your father?”
Catherine frowned. “According to my mother, Gracie’s father isn’t my father. In fact, she was never sure who my father was, actually.”
“Yikes.”
Catherine ran a hand through her hair. She was suddenly exhausted. “The letters read like a confession, Mary. It turns out that Bridget was dying from liver disease. Too many years of drinking, she said. But she wanted me to know that I had a sister.”
“I wonder what this Gracie person is like,” Mary said, staring at the letters. “Liver disease?” she asked, her gaze meeting Catherine’s once more. “Does this mean your birth mother died?”
“I think it does. In the last letter she said she wouldn’t be able to continue to correspond.” Catherine picked up the envelope and took the old, worn paper back out. The handwriting had gotten progressively worse with each letter. To the point that the last one was nearly impossible to read.
“This is going to be my last letter, I’m afraid. My hope is that when the time comes for you to tell Catherine about her adoption that she’ll be able to forgive me for giving her up. She’ll see that she was better off with you and Russell. I don’t know if her sister could ever forgive me, however. I left her to be raised by her father because I wasn’t fit to be a mother. Nevertheless, I’m concerned that was a terrible mistake. And now it’s too late to fix it.”
“A mistake?” Mary asked. “I wonder why.”
“I don’t know, but I want to find her, Mary.” She dropped the letter in the drawer and felt her heartbeat kick into overdrive. “I want to find my sister. I’ve lost too many years already, and I don’t want to lose another minute.”
Mary stood and held out a hand. “We will, I promise. First, you and I need a good night’s sleep. We’ll start our search in the morning.”
Catherine took her friend’s outstretched hand and let her pull her to her feet. She swayed a bit but didn’t fall over. She figured that was good, at least. “Thank you for being here,” she said, emotion clogging her throat. “And for helping me through all this.”
“Oh, geez.” Mary rolled her eyes and started for the door. “Don’t start getting all mushy on me.”
Tired and emotionally worn out, Catherine still managed to laugh at her friend’s belligerent tone. “I love you too,” she called out as she followed Mary out of the room.
“Ditto. Now get to bed before you fall on your face. I really don’t want to carry your ass.”
Catherine shook her head as she watched Mary head to the guest room, where she’d stayed on hundreds of occasions before. “See you in the morning.”
“Morning, yeah.” She yawned, then added, “I’m going to want pancakes.”
“You got it,” Catherine tossed back. After Mary disappeared inside the room, Catherine opened the door to her bedroom and flipped on the light. That’s when an important nugget of truth hit her. She had a sister. “I’m not alone,” she whispered to herself. Soon, she would be meeting Gracie in person, Catherine vowed. She wouldn’t just be reading about her in an old letter. For the first time in months, Catherine smiled.
3
I
t’d been six weeks since she’d found the letters in her mother’s bedside table. Now, as Catherine stood on the porch of what appeared to be an old abandoned warehouse, fear skated up and down her spine. She checked the address once more to make sure she had the right place. The numbers definitely matched. As she reached up to knock on the door, her phone buzzed. She grabbed it out of her purse and looked at the name of the caller. She grinned and hit ANSWER.
t’d been six weeks since she’d found the letters in her mother’s bedside table. Now, as Catherine stood on the porch of what appeared to be an old abandoned warehouse, fear skated up and down her spine. She checked the address once more to make sure she had the right place. The numbers definitely matched. As she reached up to knock on the door, her phone buzzed. She grabbed it out of her purse and looked at the name of the caller. She grinned and hit ANSWER.
“I haven’t met her yet,” Catherine quickly said, trying to keep her voice down. “Stop calling.”
She heard Mary curse. “What’s taking so long, woman? The waiting is killing me.”
If Catherine wasn’t so nervous she would’ve laughed at Mary’s anxious tone. “I’m standing on Gracie’s porch now.” She looked at a few cracked bricks above the door frame and said, “At least I think it’s her porch. Anyway, I’ll call you with all the details later. I promise.”
Mary heaved a deep sigh. “Fine. But don’t leave me hanging.”
Catherine chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
They said their good-byes, and Catherine had barely managed to get her phone put away when the door suddenly swung open. For the first time in her life she was face-to-face with her sister. God, the pictures in the e-mails didn’t lie. They really could be twins. They had the same red hair, the only difference being Gracie’s was fine and wavy. Catherine’s hair had always been pin straight and thick. Same green eyes too. Their build was even similar. Curvy. Gracie was shorter by an inch or so though. Still, it was strange. Like looking at a different version of herself.
After Catherine had found out about Gracie in the letters, it’d only been a matter of searching the Internet. She’d located Gracie on a social networking site. It’d all been a whirlwind since.
“Catherine,” Gracie said in a quiet voice. “You’re finally here.”
Despite telling herself not to, Catherine found herself crying. “Finally,” she said, her voice shaking.
Without another word, Gracie stepped onto the porch and wrapped her in a tight embrace. For several seconds, Catherine just stood there, too stunned to move and both of them crying. She swiftly snapped out of it and returned the hug for all she was worth. After several seconds, they both stood back. Catherine was the first to speak. “I’m so glad I came.”
“Oh, me too.” Gracie winced and slapped a hand against her forehead. “I’m making you stand out in the cold. Geez, I’m so sorry. Please, come in.”
“Thank you.” As Catherine stepped inside the warehouse her gaze quickly scanned her surroundings. She stopped dead at how gorgeous the place was and said as much. “Your home is beautiful.”
“A little surprising considering the outside, huh?”
Catherine laughed and felt heat rush to her cheeks. “A little.”
Gracie winked. “I had the same reaction my first visit here. Wade owns the place, but his sister is the one who did all the interior design. She’s a genius.”
“No kidding,” Catherine mumbled as she looked around the large, open room. It was warm and inviting. Some of her jitters disappeared. High ceilings and white oak hardwood floors flattered the Asian-style, burgundy L-shaped couch and matching round chairs. She liked the steel appliances in the kitchen. She noticed an interesting wrought iron spiral staircase that led to a second floor. The modern design was very different from her parents’ big Victorian home in Georgia.
“Speaking of Wade, there are a few people that want to meet you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Catherine smiled. “Is your fiancé still trying to figure out if I’m on the up-and-up?” She knew Wade, the man who only a few weeks ago had asked for Gracie’s hand in marriage, was a private investigator, and he’d been a little suspicious of some woman coming out of nowhere and claiming to be Gracie’s long-lost sister. But she’d thought the background check he’d run on her had been sufficient proof. Maybe it hadn’t been.
Gracie waved a hand in the air. “No, no, nothing like that. But everyone
is
curious about you, and they’ve been dying to meet you.”
is
curious about you, and they’ve been dying to meet you.”
Catherine relaxed at once. “I understand completely. Besides, I’m anxious to meet them too.”
Gracie nodded. “The excitement is natural, but I still didn’t want to bomb you with the entire bunch at once. I wanted to have you all to myself when we finally met in person. So we’ve decided to sort of filter them in a little at a time.”
Catherine put her purse on a chair next to a long, barlike countertop before replying, “I wanted to meet you alone too. A friend of mine wanted to come with me on this trip, but I asked her to stay home. I guess I didn’t want to share this first moment with anyone else.”
“Your friend Mary? The one you told me about in your e-mails?”
Catherine crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “The one and only.”
“She could’ve come. I would love to meet her.”
“You will soon enough.” She chuckled. “She’s a handful.”
“Can anyone crash this party or is it by invitation only?”
They both turned at the deep baritone. Right off Catherine recognized Wade from the pictures Gracie had sent, but the real-life version was quite a sight. The man was big, a little dangerous looking, and gorgeous as all get-out with his messy dark hair and ornery grin.
Catherine realized she was simply standing there staring and moved to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go mute, there.”
Wade shrugged and stepped forward. “Seeing you in person sort of threw me for a loop for a second as well. You and Gracie look so much alike it’s downright eerie. That Southern accent tends to give you away though.”
Catherine smiled, and looked over at Gracie and nodded. “I know what you mean. I feel like I’m looking into a mirror.”
Wade held out his hand and said, “Welcome to the family, Catherine.”
Catherine happily took it and thanked him, her heart soaring. She’d made the right decision in coming here. She knew that now.
Wade released her, then wrapped a strong arm around Gracie’s middle before pulling her in close. “Yes, welcome, Catherine,” Gracie added.
“Thanks, and uh, sorry for staring at your fiancé.” She winced. “Great first impression, there.”
“Aw, don’t worry about it.” She chuckled. “He has that effect on a woman. Wait until you meet Jonas and Dean.”
“Why wait?” Another voice chimed in.
Wade and Gracie moved to the side to let whoever owned the voice into the room. She heard Wade mumble something to the big, dangerous man, but she couldn’t make out what. Catherine froze in place as he approached her. He had the same dark hair as Wade. She couldn’t help noticing he appeared to be a little more muscular than Wade though. The black T-shirt seemed to be straining to contain him. And he looked almost angry. His dark brown eyes stared at her as if he wanted her gone. Like yesterday.
“Catherine, I’d like you to meet Dean, Wade’s younger brother and Deanna’s twin.”
This was the sweet-natured brother that Gracie had talked about? Really? The man in front of her didn’t seem to fit the description at all.
“It’s nice to meet you, Catherine,” Dean said as he stepped forward and extended his hand.
She hesitated a second, and she watched his gaze narrow. Feeling challenged for some odd reason, Catherine stiffened her spine and plastered on a smile. Taking his hand in her own, she gave it a firm shake before replying, “It’s nice to meet you too. Gracie has told me a lot about you.”
He didn’t release her right away, and Catherine couldn’t understand why her body began to riot out of control. She took the initiative and tugged. A slow, sexy smile changed his entire demeanor. For an instant Catherine couldn’t look away. It wasn’t until he let go of her that she was able to pull her attention back to Gracie and Wade.
She was stunned to realize Gracie had said something. Unfortunately, the only thing Catherine had heard was the sound of her own heart galloping. “I’m sorry?” She glanced over at Dean and saw the knowing smirk on his face. She itched to smack it off.
“I was saying that Jonas and Deanna will be along shortly. For now, I thought I could put on a pot of coffee and we could talk?”
“Sounds wonderful. The flight seemed extra long. Maybe that’s because I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee since leaving Georgia.”
Gracie went behind the counter and started rinsing the carafe. “I wish you would’ve let Wade and me pick you up at the airport. We really didn’t mind.”
“I know, but it’s fine. Plus, I managed to rent a very pretty red coupe. I love the little thing already.” She didn’t say it, but she’d needed the time alone to shore up her nerve. As sweet as Gracie had been in the many phone calls and in the e-mails they’d shared, Catherine had still worried that she’d change her mind about wanting to meet her.
As if sensing the train of Catherine’s thoughts, Gracie turned and said, “Well, just so you know, I’m really glad you came. I’m glad you got in contact with me. And I’m really glad that I have a sister.”
“Me too,” she said, her eyes stinging a little. Sister, wow. There it was again. She’d never get used to it. Then she remembered the letters tucked into her purse. “Oh! I nearly forgot about the letters.”
Gracie held up a hand. “No rush. We can get to them later. We have plenty of time.”
“Yeah, we’ll get to those later,” Dean added. When she looked over at him, she saw the truth written all over his face. He didn’t believe her. Didn’t trust her. For some odd reason the knowledge hurt.
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