Hidden Talents

deeply.
    She'd seen the truth in his eyes when she opened her door and found him on her front steps. At least she thought she had seen the truth. She had certainly seen something significant in his expression. He had the look of a man who'd had a revelation. The savage need in him had been coupled with another raw emotion so fierce and strong that it could only have been love.
    That was why she'd taken the risk of letting him see the photographs. This morning she woke up with the certainty that now Caleb would understand. Now he could look at the pictures with an unbiased eye.
    Serenity grinned as she turned away from the mirror. She felt as if she could fly or run a marathon or dance on top of one of the vision pools. No stunning feat seemed beyond her reach today.
    She tugged on her robe, slid her feet into slippers, and opened the bathroom door. The sound of Caleb's voice coming from the living room startled her.
    “I said I'll take care of it, Franklin.”
    It was the old Caleb speaking, the one Serenity had met in his Seattle office. Expressionless, detached, all emotion other than an icy, remote calm carefully hidden beneath a layer of steel.
    “Don't do anything. Is that clear? Just sit tight. I'll handle this.”
    A cold wind blew away the warm mists of Serenity's euphoria. She listened as Caleb hung up the phone with far too much care. Her heart sank at the realization that something was terribly wrong. She thought of the photos she had left on the quilt and wondered if she had made a mistake.
    Taking a deep breath, she tightened the sash of her robe and made herself go slowly down the hall. She walked into the living room and saw Caleb standing barefoot beside the phone. He had on only his trousers. His face was an emotionless mask.
    “Caleb?”
    “We've got a problem.”
    “What kind of problem?”
    “I think it's safe to say that Ambrose Asterley was not the one who tried to blackmail you.”
    Whatever she'd been expecting to hear, that wasn't it. Serenity didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed. “What are you talking about?”
    “Yesterday afternoon, after we left Ventress Valley, Franklin got a call telling him there was a certain set of photos for sale. The caller wanted five thousand dollars for them.”
    Serenity's stomach plummeted down a very deep mine shaft. “I don't understand.”
    “No? It's pretty damn obvious to me. Someone you know has those negatives and has decided to use them. Not to get you to stop doing business with me this time, but to extort money out of my family.”
    “Oh, God.” Serenity lowered herself slowly into the overstuffed armchair. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and hugged herself tightly “I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry.”
    “Damn it, Serenity, what the hell is going on?” Caleb's voice was dangerously soft.
    “I don't know. I wish I did.” She looked up in desperate appeal. This was probably not the moment to ask him what he had really thought about those photos, but she couldn't stop herself. She had to know that she'd been right to risk showing them to him this morning. “You've seen those pictures. You don't think they're so very terrible, do you?”
    “That's got nothing to do with this. Don't you understand? It doesn't matter what I think.” He shoved his fingers through his hair and scowled. His mind was clearly on the latest disaster, not on reassuring her. “What matters is that someone contacted a member of my family knowing full well what would happen. Someone other than Asterley. It couldn't have been him this time because he's dead.”
    “I don't know what's going on,” Serenity whispered. “I can only assume that someone here in Witt's End is violently opposed to my mail order project. Whoever it is must believe that if he can get you to quit as my consultant, my plans will be squelched.”
    “I think there's more to it than that,” Caleb said slowly. “I think there has been all along. But I've been too involved with other things to take a good hard look at the situation.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “Think about it, Serenity. The plain fact is those photos of you have very limited potential as a reason for blackmail.”
    “I couldn't agree more,” she muttered. “I kept telling you they were artistic pictures, not dirty pictures.”
    “Yeah, well, I think it's safe to say that there are probably any number of families that would just as soon not have one of their own marry someone who had posed for