by Kathy Ivan
“Nonsense.” Jeb’s chest puffed out like he was cock of the walk in a pen full of hens. “You got questions about farming, ain’t nobody in this county can teach you like me.”
She felt Rafe’s gaze boring into hers, and she watched the light of understanding dawn, and he gave her a brilliant smile. He’d caught on to what she’d been trying to impart in a roundabout way without hurting the old guy’s feelings. How sad was it, to be all alone, with nobody to talk to, unless you called the sheriff on some half-baked excuse, for a little human contact?
“He’s right, Tessa. There is nobody in Shiloh Springs and beyond who knows more about what it takes to run a farm than Jeb Grady. He’s practically a legend around these parts.”
“But I wouldn’t want to be a pest. Coming from the city, I don’t have the first clue about what it takes to grow crops, or tend to animals. As far as I know, corn and carrots show up in the grocery store, ready to eat.”
Jeb stood and moved to the counter, grabbing the water pitcher and refilling her half-empty glass. “Most folks don’t realize what real farming is all about. You want to learn? I’ll teach ya. Come out any time, Ms. Tessa, and I’ll put you to work. There ain’t a finer feeling than sticking your hands into rich black soil, planting seeds, and watching things grow.”
“Are you sure, Jeb? I know how busy you are. Rafe was telling me on the way here how much he admires your expertise and skill.”
I did? Rafe mouthed the words and she winked at him when Jeb wasn’t looking.
“Don’t worry, Jeb, I’m going to make sure those teenagers don’t mess with you anymore. Tell you what, how about this weekend I come over and help you repaint the hen house, get rid of the graffiti?”
“I’d like that, Sheriff. I’d like it a lot.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Pulling into Tessa’s drive, Rafe cut the engine and climbed from his cruiser, walking around to open her door. He still couldn’t believe she’d figured out Jeb Grady’s problem, having only met the man a few hours earlier. A wave of guilt tightened in his gut. How had he missed all the signs? He’d know the older man for most of his adult life, had answered numerous calls for the sheriff’s office, and never once had it occurred to him the old guy might be so lonely, he’d risk getting arrested, just to have somebody to talk to.
“Thanks for dinner.”
Another flash of guilt hit. His plans for taking Red to lunch had gone sideways. Instead they’d spent several hours with Jeb, only leaving when he’d complained he needed to get up early the next morning or the chores wouldn’t get done. They’d ended up at Daisy’s Diner, and while the food there was always great, he’d planned on taking her someplace a little more romantic. Plus, she didn’t get her Tex-Mex.
He started to answer, but her darkened front porch caught his eye and he stopped, placing a hand on her arm. Something didn’t feel right. He knew the front porch light automatically kicked on. It was the type attached to a motion sensor, because he’d installed it himself. It should have turned on when he pulled into the drive. Instead, the yard was painted with a wash of moonlight—no artificial light except for the streetlight half a block away.
Glancing across the street, he noted dim lights through the front curtains, which meant the power wasn’t off. A tingle raced down his spine, and he whispered, “Wait here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Probably nothing, but your light should have kicked on. Stay here and let me check. Maybe the bulb went out.” Slipping up the steps, he kept his footfalls silent. Nothing looked disturbed, yet his cop instincts screamed danger with a capital D. Something was wrong. Using the edge of his shirt, he twisted the doorknob and the front door slid open.
“I locked it.”
He bit back a curse. He hadn’t heard her follow him onto the porch. Maybe he was losing his edge. “Thought I told you to wait.”
“Hate to tell you this, Sheriff, but you’re not the boss of me.”
Yep, that statement totally deserved the eye roll.
“Red, let me do my job. Do not move from this spot.” Since he’d been on duty all day, he was still in his uniform, and his hand flicked open the snap on his holster, freeing his service weapon. He eased the door open, enough to slide through, and allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. Taking two steps into the living room, his eyes landed on the overturned furniture first, then the contents of shelves tossed onto the floor. Stuffing and batting spilled from the sofa through large slashes. He’d been a cop long enough to know somebody had tossed Red’s place.
Within minutes, he’d checked the entire house, finding the same thing in every room. The drawers emptied and scattered, furniture upended or broken.
The bedroom and office took the brunt of the damage, with the bedding and padded headboard sliced open and ripped. Pulling out his phone, he dialed the station and requested the crime scene investigators as well as the on-duty deputy hightail it to Tessa’s house.
When he came out of the office, he glanced toward the front door, and spotted Tessa standing there, a fist pressed against her mouth. Long strides brought him to her in seconds, and he pulled her into his arms. He could feel her body tremble against his, and he ran his hand soothingly down her spine, offering her comfort.
“Why? I don’t understand—who would do something like this?”
“Sweetheart, we may not be the big city, but we still have the same problems. Most likely it was somebody looking for money or something they could sell for some quick cash.” He cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’ve got my people coming to take fingerprints and collect any evidence we can find. Do you think you can take a look around—tell me if anything’s missing?”
With his hand still against her back, he felt her spine straightening, one disk at a time, until she stood ramrod straight and stiff. He could only imagine the gamut of emotions racing through her. This was a violation, emotional and physical, and one he could only stand by and offer support, at least until they caught whoever did it. Then he’d make sure they paid, even if he had to take it out of their hides the old-fashioned way.
He watched her step gingerly through the miasma of papers, broken glass, and the spewed innards of her sofa and two stuffed chairs, eyes darting from one end of the room to the other. Heard her ragged indrawn breath when she noted the shattered glass figurine on the floor, its delicate beauty forever destroyed. His instincts, the ones all cops have screamed this didn’t look like a random act of violence. It was too destructive, almost vengeful. This seemed…personal.
He trailed her from room to room, until she stood at the doorway leading to her bedroom, her hand at her throat. Everything in him clamored to grab her up, take her away from all this destruction, the ugliness, but he couldn’t. He needed to do his job, which meant being detached and analytical—the last thing he felt around Red.
A sound drew his gaze to the front door, where he spotted Dusty and the crime scene investigation team. Dusty nodded once, and directed the crew toward the living room. They were a good team, and did their job well, but right now he wasn’t focused on gathering evidence. No, he was focused on the woman standing beside him.
“I don’t understand. Rafe, this doesn’t make any sense. If they were looking for something to sell, they wouldn’t have done this much damage.” She turned to face him, her eyes swimming with tears. “Why would somebody hate me this much?”
The hell with it. Taking her in his arms, he led her out of the house and to his car, opening the door, and easing her onto the seat. He didn’t know what to tell her; he didn’t have a clue why somebody trashed her place. In the short time she’d been in Shiloh Springs, he doubted she’d made any enemies. And his gut told him this wasn’t some punks out for a quick fix.
“I promise, Red, we’ll figure out who did this, and send them away for a long time.” Reaching up, he framed her face with his hands, tilting it up until she met his eyes. “Trust me, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen
to you.”
Before he could say anything else, a car pulled into the drive behind his, high beams illuminating everything. Shielding his eyes, he recognized his mother’s car. Word traveled fast in Shiloh Springs, and he suspected Dusty probably called her as soon had he’d called the station. Not only was Ms. Patti the landlord on record for the property, but she’d taken a personal interest in Tessa—had right from the start.
“Oh sugar, are you okay?” He moved out of the way before his momma bowled him over. The scent of her perfume gave him a sense of peace, and he knew she’d take care of Red, smother her with the loving warmth only a mother can. Turning to him, his mother gave him an angry glare, one he knew wasn’t directed at him personally, but at the situation. He didn’t blame her. He was itching to get his hands on whoever broke in and turned Tessa’s life upside down.
“I’m fine.” Tessa’s words came out whispered. Walking around to his trunk, he popped it and lifted out the emergency blanket he kept in there. Placing it around her shoulders, he watched her snuggle into its depths. Though it was still in the nineties, he noted her shivering. Definitely shock.
“Is she done here?” His momma looked at him, while her hand continued its soothing caress of Tessa’s hair. Over and over, the soft petting motion seemed automatic, and he watched Tessa’s shivers slowly diminish. Trust his momma to know exactly what to do. Then again, she’d been dealing with eleven boys and one spirited tomboy for a long time, and her motherly instincts had kicked into overdrive. “I’m gonna take her home with me.”
From her tone, he knew there was no arguing. When Ms. Patti got that no-nonsense quality in her voice, there wasn’t a person in Shiloh Springs who’d gainsay her. “Good idea, Momma. I have to stay here, and finish processing the scene, but I’ll—”
“Come by in the morning.” She nodded her head to the side, indicating she wanted to talk to him privately. Walking a few feet away, she continued. “Rafe, I know you’re going to have questions, but can’t they wait until tomorrow? Right now, I think she’ll do better with a hot cup of tea and maybe a shoulder to cry on.” Reaching forward, she brushed her thumb along his cheek, a gesture she’d done a thousand times when he’d been growing up. “And I know you want to be that shoulder, but I don’t think she’s ready—not yet at any rate. You do your job, and find out who did this. I’ll do mine, and take care of your girl, okay?”
Without a word, he pulled his mother into his arms, hugging her tight. Trust her to know exactly what needed doing, and to get it done. She was right too, blast it. Tessa was in shock, fragile and vulnerable. And probably feeling violated in a way only another woman would understand.
“Take care of her, Momma. If she needs anything, call me and I’ll be there.”
Reaching up, she patted his cheek. “I know. You are a good boy, Rafael.”
Walking to the car, he squatted beside Tessa, still seated in his squad car. “Red, Momma’s gonna take you home with her, while I stay here and figure out who broke into your house. She’ll take good care of you. But you need anything, you have her call me and I’ll be there faster than you can blink, okay?”
Her red-rimmed eyes met his. “Okay. I…thank you.”
The blanket slipped off one shoulder, and he reached out and gently lifted it to cover her again. Her tentative smile nearly broke his heart. The day which had begun with so much promise had turned into an unmitigated mess, but he’d find a way to make things right again. Bring back her sense of safety and hope.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s leave Rafe to do his job, and we’ll go home and have a nice cup of tea and a hot bath. How’s that sound?”
Tessa stood, placing the blanket onto the car seat, and took a step away before turning back to him. “Find out who did this, Rafe.”
“I will, darlin’. I promise.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wrapped in a warm bathrobe, and sipping hot tea, Tessa sat with her feet drawn up beneath her in the overstuffed arm chair. Wet hair hung loosely over her shoulders, evidence of the hot shower she’d taken upon arriving at the Big House. Ms. Patti met her at the door when she emerged, guiding her to the living room, and handing her the cup of hot tea, laced with a liberal dose of something strong.
“Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you. It was all a bit overwhelming, but it’s starting to sink in. I don’t understand why somebody would destroy my home. The more I think about it, it doesn’t feel like a random break up. Somebody looking for money wouldn’t take a knife to the sofa or the chair—or my bed.”
She hated the way her voice cracked on the last words. Now the shock was wearing off, white hot anger coursed through her like a volcano, the pressure building and bubbling to the surface until she felt like she’d explode. Nobody had the right to invade her home, much less destroy her things. Most of the furniture had come with the house—she’d rented it furnished—but the things she’d brought with her held sentimental value and were irreplaceable. At least to me.
“I admit we don’t see a lot of robberies in Shiloh Springs. Not like you’d expect in the bigger cities. Our son, Antonio, lives in Dallas. I don’t think a day goes by I’m not concerned about his safety, though I’d never tell him. He loves living there, and he loves his job. So, I’ve learned to keep my feelings to myself. When something like this happens…”
“It makes you feel like you’ve lost something special. That feeling of safety in your own home.” Tessa ran a hand through her hair, feeling the curls springing to live as it started drying. “The thing I can’t seem to wrap my head? Why? I’m not rich. Other than a couple of pieces of jewelry belonging to my mother, I don’t own anything worth taking.”
Ms. Patti placed a small plate with three chocolate chip cookies on it on the table by Tessa’s chair. “You’re still fairly new in Shiloh Springs. Somebody desperate enough might figure you’d be an easier mark than one of the locals. Honestly, who knows? I don’t think like a criminal, so haven’t got a real clue how their mind works.”
Tessa took another sip of tea, before nibbling on one of the cookies. The brown sugar and chocolate melted on her tongue. No way were these bought at any store. They reminded her of the cookies her granny made when she and Beth were little.
Her head lifted at the sound of the front door, and Brody walked in, bending low to press a kiss against his mother’s cheek. His bright blue eyes studied her, concern written on his face. “I heard about what happened. You okay?”
Nodding, she answered, “I’m fine. Thankfully, I wasn’t at home when whoever it was broke in.”
He perched on the arm of the sofa next to his mother. “I spoke with Rafe a few minutes ago. They’re nearly finished, and he’s going to make sure the house is locked up tight when the investigative team finishes.” With a devilish wink, he reached across, snagged one of the cookies off her plate and bit into it, his eyes alight with laughter.
“Brody Boudreau, you know better!”
“You know I can’t resist your cookies, Momma.” Sobering, he turned back to Tessa. “Is there anything you need? I can run by your place before they lock up.”
“I can’t think of anything, but thank you for offering.”
“No problem. I just got off duty, and heard what happened. Swung by your house on my way here.” He turned toward his mother. “Rafe said most of the furniture is a total loss. Why don’t you use the stuff I’ve got in storage?” When Tessa started to interrupt, he raised his hand, and continued. “It’s gathering dust inside one of those paid storage places. I’d much rather you get some use out of it. No, don’t protest. Your place came furnished, and it’s the least I can do, until you get some new stuff.”
“Thank you, son. That’ll help a lot, and give me time to contact Darrell Johnson about filing an insurance claim, and getting replacements.”
“It’s settled then. Once Rafe gives the all clear, I grab a couple guys and we’ll get you fixed up good as new, Tessa.”
She felt tears well
ing in her eyes. The Boudreaus had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome in Shiloh Springs from the moment she’d arrived. Well, except for her first debacle with Rafe. Now here they were again, coming to her rescue.
“Ah, don’t cry, Tessa. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She sniffled then chuckled, brushing at her eyes. “I know. You’ve all been so kind. Taking me in, helping me…”
“That’s what family does.” Ms. Patti stood and wrapped an arm around Brody’s middle. “Finish your tea, while I walk this hooligan out to his truck.”
“Guess I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Brody joked. “Good night, Tessa. See you tomorrow.”
Tessa stared at the cup of tea between her two hands. Taking another sip, she felt the warmth spread through her, seep into her very bones. She couldn’t stop thinking about walking in the door, and finding nothing but devastation. Leaning against the back of the chair, she closed her eyes, determined to find an answer.
After saying goodnight to her son, Patti stopped in the opening to the living room. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Tessa sat curled in the easy chair, fast asleep. Picking up the crocheted throw her mother made, she gently draped it across Tessa’s shoulders.
Poor thing definitely had an eventful day. Douglas had called earlier, right after he’d caught Rafe and Tessa canoodling on the side of the road. She could still hear him snickering as he recounted the tale. Her son was smitten with the pretty new school teacher, and if she wasn’t mistaken, more than halfway in love with her. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Tessa felt the same.
Walking into the kitchen, she pulled out her cell and dialed Rafe.
“Momma? How’s Tessa?”
“Tessa is fast asleep in your daddy’s chair. I called to check on you.”