Yearning Page 2

  was born here. We just moved back, and we need copies of

  the blueprints of her house. As far as I understand, the

  library also handles the town hall archives.”

  “You understand correctly.” Turning around in a graceful

  pirouette, which was quite the feat since she was crouching

  on four-inch heels, Ms. Strawberry-Blonde extended her

  hand. “I’m Samantha Pike, head librarian. It’s me you want

  for that research.”

  Nearly choking at Samantha’s revelation, Darian

  managed to turn it into a cough. “Nice to meet you. Well,

  now that we both survived.”

  Samantha gave a quick smile. “Oh, I assure you, Ms.

  Tennen, that it takes a lot more than this to injure me.” She

  paused for a few moments, frowning. “However, you

  seemed to take a worse tumble. I think I should be asking

  you if you’re all right.”

  “Never better,” Darian lied. Her ass was smarting, and

  her tailbone had now gone numb. Great. “I hope you can

  help me with the blueprints though. My gran’s house is in

  decent condition, considering how old it is, but it needs

  renovating, and I want to make sure I don’t run into trouble

  since I’ll be doing the work. And it’s Detective Tennen.”

  “You’re a police officer.” Samantha looked surprised. “Are

  you joining Chief Billings’s office?”

  “I’m on an extended leave of absence from LAPD, so no.

  I’m just helping Gran until her house is in good shape and

  she settles in and reconnects to her hometown.”

  Gathering the last of the papers, Samantha stood. Darian

  did her best to stand up without groaning in pain.

  “I was just going to have a cup of coffee. You’re welcome

  to join me. I can take some notes about the house in the

  meantime.” Samantha pointed at the corridor she’d just

  come from. “I need to print these again anyway.”

  Darian winced. “Sorry again.”

  “No matter. So?”

  Drawing a blank first, Darian then nodded. “I’d love some

  coffee. I spent most of the morning in the slightly creepy

  basement of Gran’s house.”

  Motioning for Darian to follow her, Samantha walked with

  long strides that made her hips move discreetly, but oh,

  God, this woman was sexy in an understated way. Perhaps

  Dennamore had more to offer than she’d thought at first

  glance.

  When she had driven up to the parking lot of the

  impressive building, she’d thought the town hall looked like

  something out of an old Frankenstein movie. Made from

  dark, chiseled stones, it sat at the far end of the square.

  Small shops framed the square on the other three sides,

  much like any American small town had looked in the 1950s.

  Darian had pointed it out to her grandmother the first time

  she saw it, and Camilla had merely shrugged and said

  something about the people of Dennamore being particular

  about traditions. For a female, gay cop, that mindset didn’t

  sound entirely promising.

  “When was this built?” Darian gestured to the building

  surrounding them as they walked toward the library’s

  double doors.

  “In 1788-1790. It took them a while to transport the

  stones from the closest quarry. Before then, a large log

  structure sat where the library is now.” Samantha dropped

  the papers into a large bin next to the reception desk. A

  young man sat in front of a laptop at one of the tables in the

  wide center aisle, and the sound made him jump.

  “Oh, goodness, Carl. Didn’t think it’d be that loud.”

  Samantha placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Wi-fi working

  all right today?”

  “Yes. Ms. Pike. I can even listen to music, for once.” Carl

  grinned and looked over at Darian. “Hello.”

  “Carl, this is Darian Tennen. Detective Tennen, this is

  Carl. He’s a senior in high school.”

  “Hence the frantic way I’m trying to force knowledge into

  my brain at the last minute.” Carl rolled his eyes

  dramatically. “Not sure if it’s going to work.” He studied

  Darian carefully. “You a returnee?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” Darian frowned. “A returnee? What’s

  that?”

  “Don’t be nosy, Carl.” Samantha pointed at his screen.

  “Keep at it.”

  “Yes, Ms. Pike,” Carl said, looking good-naturedly

  chastised.

  “My office is over here.” Samantha pointed to an open

  oak door to the far-right side. As they walked between the

  tall shelves, all made from the same wood as the door and

  walls, Darian felt dwarfed. Each bookshelf had a sliding

  ladder to reach the top shelves. This didn’t look like any

  library she had ever visited.

  Samantha’s office consisted of a desk and cabinets from

  the same darkened oak wood as the rest of the interior. A

  leather desk chair looked almost as old as the rest of the

  furniture, its tall backrest making it resemble an ornate

  throne. Samantha sat down and pointed to the visitors’

  chair, also made from oak and leather, but not as

  impressive. Darian sat down, wincing again at the stinging

  sensation from her tailbone.

  After waking up her computer, Samantha tapped in a few

  commands. “All right, Detective Tennen—”

  “Darian, please.” Cringing at any formality, Darian hoped

  Samantha wasn’t a stickler for such things. She looked like

  she might be, especially surrounded by this centuries-old

  interior.

  “Then please call me Samantha.” Samantha nodded and

  managed to look regal as well as friendly.

  “Not Sam?” Darian had her hopes up.

  “No.”

  All right then. “Got it.”

  “Address of your grandmother’s house?” Samantha kept

  typing as she spoke.

  “Brynden 4. It’s belonged to the Wells family for more

  than two hundred years, Gran says, and…”

  Samantha stopped typing and stared at Darian. “Brynden

  4. You’re sure?”

  Taken aback, Darian nodded. “Of course, I’m sure. I had

  my coffee in the old kitchen this morning.”

  “I apologize. It’s just…that house has been sitting empty

  for more than fifty years.” Tapping at her keyboard again,

  Samantha now looked completely interested. “Here we are.

  Brynden 4. Owner, Camilla Tennen. Good. I have a code for

  where the blueprints are stored in our archives.” She paused

  and leaned back in her chair. “I know the firm that’s been

  taking care of the maintenance of the house and yard. They

  do that for several of the original homes that are still waiting

  for the owners, or their heirs, to return.”

  Return. Returnee? The word the boy, Carl, had mentioned

  popped up in Darian’s mind. “I never understood why Gran

  didn’t just sell it after fifty years in LA. Well, until she started

  talking about how she had to return here. That was five

  years ago.”

  “Ah. Yes. A common thing for someone born in this town.


  Either we stay, or we come back.” A shadow passed across

  Samantha’s face. “What took your grandmother so long, if

  her desire to move back began only five years ago?”

  “I have no idea. No matter what, she talked so much

  about Dennamore, I started feeling the same way, and I’ve

  never set foot here. For some reason, I was suddenly curious

  to see her hometown. Experience it, you know.” And it had

  not been a case of mere curiosity, Darian admitted to

  herself. Half a year ago, almost from one day to the next,

  Darian knew she had to help her grandmother move home

  and that she had to go with her, at least for a while. The fact

  that her father hadn’t lived long enough to see his mother’s

  home was part of her urge too. Nobody but Darian had a

  reason to inherit Gran’s house in Dennamore.

  “I’ve heard that from other people as well. Only a month

  ago, someone returned who was a third-generation

  Dennamore resident. He was almost ninety.” Samantha

  scribbled something on a piece of paper. “Why don’t we

  head down to the basement together? It’s not open to the

  public, but since I’m going down there anyway, you’re

  welcome to join me.” She stepped over to a mirror that

  hung just inside the door and deftly put her hair up in a low

  twist. “Better,” she said after smoothing it.

  Darian wasn’t so sure. Yes, the updo was elegant and

  suited Samantha, but the loose hair around her shoulders

  had looked fantastic. “Sounds interesting. This place is

  growing on me, despite it being so far from civilization.”

  “We are quite self-contained here,” Samantha said as

  they walked through the library and out into the hallway.

  Her heels made a slightly eerie echoing sound against the

  flagstone floor. “Which is a blessing, as you may have

  noticed there’s only one way in and out of here.”

  “Yes. It’s like being in a bowl, surrounded by mountains.”

  Darian noticed that they were the same height, but she

  probably had well over fifteen pounds on the slender woman

  next to her. Loving to work out and go for a run at all hours,

  Darian had also taken martial-arts classes of different kinds.

  Samantha might look more delicate, but Darian hadn’t

  forgotten how agile the woman had proved to be when she,

  completely unfazed, rose from the floor earlier.

  Samantha stopped by the stairwell behind the front desk.

  “It’s down this way.” She walked ahead of Darian down the

  worn steps, also made from flagstones, their steps echoing

  between the now stone-clad walls. Darian noticed how the

  wall sconces looked like torches from ancient times. Was

  this part of the aesthetic? They reinforced the gothic feel of

  the structure, and the only other place that had ever given

  Darian such a vibe was a theme park she’d visited as a

  child.

  Samantha led her down two sets of stairs, which made

  Darian wonder how deep the basement of the town hall

  actually went. Wasn’t the building resting on bedrock? How

  the hell had people managed to dig, or blast, space for a

  basement in the late 1700s?

  Stopping in front of a massive oak—again—door,

  Samantha produced an impressive key and turned it in an

  ancient-looking lock. She also punched in a six-digit code

  before opening it. The smell indicated old books and papers,

  not moldy, but dusty. Samantha pulled at a thin chain

  hanging to the left of the door opening, and fluorescent

  lights flickered before they stabilized and lit up the room.

  Darian gaped. If the fact that this old structure had a

  two-story basement within the bedrock had baffled her a

  minute ago, the size of this room rendered her speechless. It

  seemed to go on forever and was filled with cabinets,

  shelves, desks, and a tall ceiling that explained why they

  had to walk down so far.

  “Holy crap.” Darian turned to Samantha. “Is this for real?

  This…how can this even exist here?”

  Samantha smiled indulgently. “I know. The first time I

  came down here with my great-aunt Tara—I think I was ten

  years old—I decided to become a librarian just so I could

  help research these materials.”

  “These materials” didn’t fully cover the items she saw—

  the large rolls of paper, the books, and whatever lurked in

  the back of this room. No, hall. Somehow, someone had

  chiseled, or blasted, an enormous hall under the structure

  that looked impressive from the outside but was nothing

  compared to these archives.

  “How can you find anything in here?” Darian felt stupid

  for asking, but to her it seemed impossible to even know

  where to begin.

  “My great-aunt Tara, who was the previous librarian,

  started digitizing the catalogues of everything here in the

  eighties on a very simple computer, and when she retired, I

  took over and kept going. I’ve completed most of the

  ledgers, but the papers and objects in the far back will keep

  me busy for years to come. Fortunately, the blueprints and

  historical documents regarding houses and structures in

  Dennamore have been fully digitized for years. Over here,

  please.” Flicking her fingers for Darian to follow her,

  Samantha showed the way to a more modern part of the

  large hall. Here, two stationary computers sat, each with

  their own twenty-six-inch screen, and to the right of them

  stood a large A3 laser printer.

  “Let me pull up the file.” Samantha sat down and began

  typing.

  “Why couldn’t you do this from upstairs?” Darian sat on

  the other chair next to Samantha.

  “Oh, that. These computers aren’t linked. We are quite

  careful with our historical items and records. These two

  computers hold all the information, but there’s no access via

  any intranet or internet.”

  This sparked even more interest. “Why is that?”

  Samantha sent Darian a look through narrowed eyes.

  “It’s in our local rules and regulations.”

  “Ah. I see.” Darian really didn’t but kept quiet and merely

  observed how Samantha pulled up the information she

  needed. After she tapped in a few commands, the quite

  impressive printer whirred and began producing the

  documents. To Darian’s surprise, the blueprints of her

  grandmother’s house were not done in a style she’d seen

  before. Instead, the printer created what looked like an

  amazing old artwork. In full color, she saw the floor plan, the

  exteriors from all angles, even from above, done in the style

  of some Leonardo da Vinci facsimiles she had seen at an

  exhibition when she was a kid.

  “Wow,” Darian said, carefully pulling the floor-plan

  document closer by pinching the corner. “I…I didn’t expect

  this. It’s fantastic.” She glanced up at Samantha, who was

  switching off the screen. “I assume you scanned some really

  old document?”

  “We did. The originals are kept in a
secure area where

  the temperature is set to keep mold away and help them

  not age.” Samantha came over and examined the printed

  copies. “These turned out all right.” She tapped the sheet

  showing the front exterior. “I have always dreamed of

  seeing one more of the original homes of Dennamore. It’s a

  beautiful house.”

  To Darian, her grandmother’s home looked mostly like a

  lot of hard work on her part, getting it in working order. “I

  suppose. I’m afraid to turn on a light in there. The wiring is

  ancient.”

  “The house has been maintained, but nothing’s been

  altered,” Samantha said and began rolling the prints up. She

  took a cardboard tube from a box behind the printer, and

  after carefully inserting the documents into the tube, she

  placed a lid in each end. “Compliments of the library. Here

  you are.”

  “Thank you.” Darian’s fingers accidentally grazed

  Samantha’s as she accepted the tube, which was a mistake.

  The way her fingertips tingled made Darian want to groan

  out loud. She had no time for any sort of flirtation, let alone

  some fling. She eventually would return to LA and her job as

  a homicide detective.

  “My pleasure.” Motioning for the door, Samantha walked

  Darian out of the amazing hall, causing a surprising sense of

  disappointment. What she wouldn’t have given to be

  allowed to explore some of the documents. Darian had

  always wanted to know more of her father’s family, but

  even if her grandmother had raised her, she knew only the

  basics. Orphaned at age eight, she remembered some

  things of her parents, but it was like the memories were still

  images in black and white. Gran had been both mom and

  dad to her these last twenty-one years, and Darian adored

  her.

  As they reached the foyer where the security guard now

  was in place behind the desk, and men and women milled

  back and forth between the office wing and the entrance,

  Darian impulsively turned to Samantha. “You said you were

  curious about Gran’s house. Would you like to come and

  have a tour before we start renovating? We’re not planning

  to do anything crazy, just make it safe and so on, but still.”

  Darian fired off a smile that usually worked on the ladies.

  Samantha raised her eyebrows. “Really? Would Ms.

  Tennen agree to that?”

  “Are you kidding? Gran thrives on meeting new people.