"What if everything you thought you knew changed in an instant?"
Reviewed by Melissa Kammer
Posted September 29, 2012
Romance
Tara Greer lives a quiet life in Virginia not too far away
from her mother and her foster brother. She never dreamed
her tranquility could be so thoroughly disrupted by the
appearance of a stranger; a stranger who wants to know if
she could be the little girl who disappeared from a mall
almost twenty-eight years ago. She is not only distracted
by such ridiculous news, but also by Jack's good looks.
She certainly does not need to fall for a handsome stranger
even if Jack is only running an errand and not a private
detective. She also knows that there are some
inconsistencies with her childhood, and she does not need
him around to discover the holes. Could she truly be the
missing child? Can she ask her mother to shed some light
on the past?
Jack DiMarco refuses to give up on his baseball career, and
his latest mission takes him to Virginia. Since one of his
sister's leads on a missing person's case is in the same
area, he volunteers to check into that lead. He finds a
woman truly shocked by his question, and the same woman has
him taking his time in leaving the area. He runs into Tara
almost everywhere he goes, but he realizes that happens in
small towns. However, he cannot help but notice how Tara
seems to avoid him. Through a series of events, Jack
befriends Tara's mother and foster brother, but Tara still
seems to keep her distance. What can he do to convince her
to give him a chance? Why does she continually push him
away yet act interested?
Darlene Gardner writes a classically endearing romance
flavored with a hint of mystery. As usual, I warmed up
rather quickly to her characters understanding their
dilemmas and their motivations. Tara is a conflicted
heroine. She is well aware of how easily it would be to
fall for Jack, but she has a niggling fear about what may
be uncovered from the past. Jack is single minded in his
pursuits in that he will stop for nothing to obtain what he
desires. He does not understand Tara's hot and cold
signals and wonders what truly is causing them. Tara and
Jack will have to confront the truth about the past before
there is any hope for a future. THE TRUTH ABOUT TARA takes
us on a bumpy ride, throws in a curve or to, but finally
settles to deliver a glorious read. Ms. Gardner hits
another one out of the ballpark. She certainly writes
romance that keeps me coming back for more.
SUMMARY
Tara Greer's world is fine the way it is–even if some
details of her childhood simply don't add up. Life on the
beautiful Virginia coast with her mother and young foster
brother are all she needs. What she doesn't need is gorgeous
stranger Jack DiMarco's suspicion that she was stolen as a
child. Because if he's right, the truth would devastate her
family. Steering clear of Jack is the easy answer, right? Wrong! The
sexy, compassionate on-the-mend baseball player is
everywhere she turns…exactly where her heart wants him. But
their future seems unlikely when being with Jack means
facing a reality that could cost Tara everything.
ExcerptThat white pickup was as conspicuous as the evening
sunset over the Chesapeake Bay.
It took its time in coming, too. For the last block,
since Tara Greer had crossed the empty street to walk along
the sidewalk, the pickup had rolled along at a speed roughly
equivalent to her pace.
In ten or fifteen more minutes, children who walked to
school from the bordering neighborhood would start
appearing. So would the school buses that transported
students from the rural areas of the Eastern Shore that fed
into the elementary school.
For now, however, Tara was virtually alone.
Tara glanced back over her shoulder, hearing the slow
thud of her heartbeat over the rumble of the truck engine.
She couldn't tell much about the driver except that he was
male and had thick, dark hair. The pickup didn't have a
front license plate so it wasn't registered in Virginia.
Even though it was early June, when tourists seeking
peace and quiet starting showing up in the area, something
about the pickup seemed off. The Eastern Shore was
geographically removed from the rest of Virginia, sandwiched
by the Chesapeake and the Atlantic Ocean, seventy miles from
north to south but only fifteen miles at its widest point.
Wawpaney was about three or four miles inland from the bay,
a community of a few hundred without even a bed and
breakfast. Strangers stuck out.
The school was in sight. Tara walked faster down the
uneven sidewalk shaded by leafy oak trees and tall pines. It
was barely past eight in the morning but there would be
people, safety if the guy tried anything.
The truck drew even with her, slowing down for the space
of a few heartbeats before continuing past her. Tara chided
herself for being silly. This was Wawpaney, not the mean
streets of a big city. The town's Indian name meant
daybreak, the most peaceful time of day. Nothing bad
happened here.
No sooner did she have the thought than the driver swung
the pickup over to the curb and shut off the ignition. The
sigh of relief caught in Tara's throat.
The man who hopped out of the truck was tall, lean and
probably in his early thirties. He looked normal enough but
so did lots of prison inmates.
Through an opening between the trees, the man was
momentarily bathed in sunlight that magnified his
appearance. He had a square jaw and a nose that was on the
long side, a combination that lent him an air of gravity. Or
maybe he looked serious because he wasn't smiling.
If he smiled, he'd be handsome. But if he smiled, she'd
be even more freaked out.
She veered off the sidewalk, intending to run to the
other side of the street. She gave silent thanks that as a
physical education teacher she wore tennis shoes to school.
"Wait! Please!" The man's voice was low pitched and
pleasing to the ear. "I just need to ask you something."
Tara froze on the dew–damp grass of the swell
between the sidewalk and the street, considering once again
that she might have overreacted. She drew in a deep breath
of bay–scented air, reminding herself it wasn't like
her to be skittish.
The man was walking toward her, getting closer with every
step. He wore jeans and a light–colored shirt with the
sleeves rolled up, projecting a casual coolness instead of
sinister purpose. Probably a tourist who'd lost his way. He
got to within a body's length of her.
"Do you need directions somewhere?" she asked.
"No," he said.
She retreated a step closer to the curb, then stopped and
squared her shoulders. She wasn't sure how but now that she
could see the man up close she knew he meant her no harm.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, she crossed her arms over her
chest. "Then you were following me."
"It's not what you think," he said hurriedly. "I was
driving over to the school, hoping to talk to you. And then
suddenly, there you were."
She should have been alarmed, but his eyes, a velvety
brown shade, seemed kind. His voice was so low it was almost
soothing.
"Why would you want to talk to me?" she asked. "I've
never seen you before in my life."
If she had, she'd remember.
"My name's Jack DiMarco. I'm visiting from Kentucky." His
accent was minor, evident only in the slight rounding of his
vowels. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and shook his head.
"I'm not real sure how to say this."
"How to say what?"
He opened his mouth, closed it, then withdrew a piece of
paper from the back pocket of his jeans and unfolded it.
"Maybe this will help you understand," he said, holding
the paper out to her.
Tara had a premonition that she didn't want to see
whatever was on the paper. She didn't know what had gotten
into her this morning. She wasn't normally so skittish.
Careful not to touch him, Tara took the paper. On it was the
photo image of a young woman with golden–brown hair, a
high forehead, wide–set eyes and an oval face with a
rounded chin.
Tara's free hand flew to her mouth. "This looks like me."
"I think so, too," the man – Jack – said. "Except for the
hair. Yours is more reddish brown."
It made no sense. Why would this stranger have a drawing
of her? She waved the paper at him. "Where did you get this?"
"It's a computer–generated photo done by a forensic
artist," he said. "My sister pushed for an updated version
of it. She's a private investigator."
Tara only caught the first part of his answer, because
she was re–examining the photo. Underneath it in large
block type was the name Hayley Cooper. The smaller print
below the name blurred as she belatedly recalled his last
two words. Her chin came up. "You're a private investigator?"
"I'm not," he said. "My sister is. Since I was coming to
the Eastern Shore anyway, she asked me to check out a lead
on one of her cases to see if it was worth pursuing."
"What case?"
"A missing–person case."
Tara's shoulders relaxed. She breathed in air that
carried the familiar smell of salt water and
late–spring blooms. Without reading the rest of the
print, she held the sheet of paper back to him. "There's
been a mistake. I'm not Hayley Cooper and I'm not missing."
"You don't understand." He nodded down at the piece of
paper. "That's an age progression. It's an approximation of
what the missing person would look like."
Tara's stomach tightened as the tension returned. She
remembered a magazine article a few years back about Jaycee
Dugard, a missing child who'd been found after being held
against her will for eighteen years. The magazine had run
Jaycee's current photo and her age progression side by side.
They'd looked remarkably alike.
"What does this have to do with me?" Tara asked.
"Maybe nothing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Here's
the deal. My sister is investigating the case of a
three–year–old who was abducted
twenty–eight years ago from a shopping mall in a
little town outside of Louisville."
"And?" Tara prompted.
His mouth twisted. "Is there any chance you could be her?"
What do you think about this review?
Comments
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!
|
© 2003-2024 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved Privacy Policy