Tell Me Your Secrets. Cara Summers
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I turned to examine the bookcase next to the couch. There, I discovered a variety of books from Shakespeare’s Sonnets and well-thumbed copies of classics like Pride and Prejudice and To Kill a Mockingbird to a thriller about a diamond heist that had recently made the bestseller lists. I’d just read it myself, and I wondered in how many other things my sister’s taste and mine might coincide.
From the Queen Anne desk and a delicately hand-carved chair, I assumed she liked antiques. I’d never had the time to hunt for them, but I could appreciate their beauty. On the other side of the couch, I discovered a silly-looking red fox perched on top of an embroidered footstool.
When I picked it up to take a closer look, Hannibal made a growling sound deep in his throat.
I was intimidated enough to put the fox back on the stool, and I turned my attention to the small cabinet. Inside I found a bottle of brandy, a cache of chocolate and a bag of cat tidbits. Had I uncovered the secret to how Cameron and Hannibal had become “thick as thieves?” Selecting one of them, I turned back to the cat.
“Is this what you’re hounding me for?”
He moved closer and I gave him the treat. He hadn’t been on my list of the players at the hacienda, but if Cameron had kept treats for him right beside her chocolate…
“Look. I’m going to be here for a while, so you’d better get used to me. And I’m not going to steal anything from your mistress. She’s my sister.”
Hannibal blinked just as if he’d understood what I’d just said.
“We’re not enemies. Really. I’m beginning to like her. She has good taste—even in chocolate.”
Her cache was made in Switzerland.
Hannibal had no comment. I opened the cabinet, and this time I took out a treat for both of us. As he ate his, I took a bite of chocolate and turned my attention back to the room. Truth told, I not only liked Cameron’s taste, I envied it. Since moving to Los Angeles, I’d pretty much buried myself in work, and I hadn’t yet taken the time to make my apartment my own.
I investigated Cameron’s closet next while Hannibal stood in the doorway to keep watch. What I found was that any possible similarities between my sister and me came to an end when it came to clothes. First off, her closet wasn’t a closet. It was a whole room that opened off the larger bed-sitting-room area. My bedroom in my apartment wasn’t any larger. One wall housed drawers, cupboards, shoe racks and shelves. Along the other hung Cameron’s clothes, neatly arranged and sorted into pants, shirts, jackets, suits and dresses.
If you are what you wear, Cameron McKenzie was a fashion queen. I like clothes, too, but I bought mine off the racks, and Cameron’s all came from designer showrooms. No bargains from Wal-Mart here. So far Jimmy Choo shoes were something that I’d only seen on TV shows. My twin owned four pairs. Way to go, Cameron.
Insatiably curious, I’d searched through drawers and found she had a taste for gold, expensive lingerie and short nightgowns. I’d even tested her scent—something exotic and French that probably cost more than what I spent on a month’s rent.
But it was the bathroom that gave me the biggest surprise about my sister. The best description I could come up with was that it was like a little slice of paradise. There was a skylight situated so that sun, rain or starlight would be visible from the tub. There were gleaming marble tiles, a shower with frosted glass doors, brass faucets, and enough plants hanging and bursting out of pots to make one think of Eden.
I was aware of all that as I stood in the doorway, but my eyes never left the tub. Surrounding it on a wide ledge were glass bottles in various hues, filled no doubt with scents and oils and creams. And I counted twelve candles. The tub itself sank into the floor and it was big enough for two. I couldn’t help wondering if it had ever been used that way. Cameron and Sloan? My sister definitely had a sensuous side.
That shouldn’t surprise me. So did I. At least I was pretty sure I did. I just hadn’t had much time to indulge it—or perhaps, I hadn’t had much of a reason to indulge it. Cameron had her very attractive fiancé.
Turning, I moved back into the bedroom and began to pace. Bottom line, after an hour in my sister’s bedroom, I’d learned she had excellent taste in decor, expensive taste in clothes and the money to indulge it, and a passionate side to her nature—all of which I admired and envied her for.
To top it off, she was going to be heir to half of her father’s kingdom—worth millions of dollars.
Compared to hers, my life seemed rather mundane.
But my purpose here wasn’t about me, I reminded myself. I was here to learn all I could about Cameron and just why she might have disappeared on that day five weeks ago.
Moving to the window, I focused on what my next move should be. I’d fully expected to spend my first day on the ranch meeting all the major players that I would have to convince that I was Cameron without a memory. With Sloan and James away, I was out of plot line. The view from Cameron’s bedroom was the same as the one Beatrice, Cole and I had had on the patio, and my eyes were drawn to the stables. If Sloan had been here, I would have asked him for a tour and perhaps gone for a ride. It had been so long since I’d been on a horse.
But that might not be my best move. I was suffering from memory loss. So it might look strange if I walked down to the stables and asked someone to saddle up a horse. My gaze moved to the hills that bordered the valley the ranch sat in on the east and the west.
But I could ask for a car. After all, I was Cameron McKenzie, home after an absence of five weeks. Memory loss or not, I might be interested in driving around to see if something, anything stirred a memory.
It certainly beat sitting here in Cameron’s room with a cat who seemed to value me only for my ability to provide food. Elena would know whom I’d have to speak to. I hurried to the door, opened it, and then glanced back at Hannibal. He was back on the bed, sitting on his throne. “Coming?”
He made no move.
“See you later,” I said as I let myself out and shut the door.
ELENA HAD GIVEN ME the keys to an SUV that was parked right outside the kitchen. It had a McKenzie Ranch logo on the side, and anybody who needed to run an errand could use it. On impulse and out of curiosity, I’d driven up onto the bluff that formed a natural boundary on one side of the valley the ranch lay snuggled in. The road was unpaved and rough in spots. When I’d gone as far as I could with the SUV, I’d parked it and walked another half mile along a path that wove in and out of boulders until I’d reached the top.
All around me as far as I could see, lay the vast stretch of land that the McKenzies could lay claim to. I knew from the maps that Cole and Pepper had shown me that the shores of the Pacific were blocked by more hills behind me, but the estate extended all the way to the sea. Below me the ground sloped gently before it dropped off sharply into the valley below. Since I have a problem with heights, I was careful not to go near the edge. My view of the hacienda itself was still blocked by some of the boulders that dotted the bluff, so I walked farther along the narrow path to get a better look.
The wind had picked up, and to the west I could see huge dark clouds racing in from the Pacific. Thunder growled in the distance, and lightning split the sky.
Shades of Wuthering Heights, I thought. Not a good omen. Then I resolutely turned my back on the approaching storm and walked onward until I had a good view of the flat stretch of land in the little valley below.
From this vantage point, I could see everything that I hadn’t been able to see from the patio or Cameron’s window. Behind the hacienda there was an Olympicsized pool and a pool house surrounded by trees and terraced gardens. Fanning off from that I could see orange groves, tennis courts and what must be Beatrice’s greenhouses.
If Beatrice was responsible for all of that, my hat was off to her. The stables, along with the training and riding rings and what was probably once the original carriage house, were a short distance away.