by Susan Wiggs
“Okay,” Isabel said, her shoulders tense with frustration, “did he have to save every Farmers’ Almanac from the beginning of time?”
“He probably wasn’t saving them,” Shannon pointed out. “Just didn’t bother to throw them out.”
Isabel straightened up and went to the window of the study. She placed her hands on the small of her back, absently massaging herself. The window framed a view that looked like a postcard. “I just don’t understand how someone could be so disorganized.” Her voice sounded exhausted, broken.
Isabel was still intensely worried about losing a man who had been everything to her. Tess would never forget the terrible emotional agony of losing her grandmother. It was like stepping into a strange new reality, one filled with a fear and pain that took her over, darkening the entire world with a cold heavy shadow that would never, ever lift.
She glanced over at her mother, who was browsing through a stack of reports. Shannon had been traveling when it happened. She’d raced back to Dublin, as inconsolable as Tess. They’d held each other, and it had felt like a new closeness, as if they were two shipwreck survivors, clinging to a raft. In time, though, they’d drifted apart again, with Shannon caught up in work while Tess finished high school. America had beckoned, and she’d opted for college at Berkeley.
“Actually,” Tess said, wanting to coax Isabel away from her worries, “he isn’t disorganized. Judging by the stuff around here, there’s a method to his madness.”
Isabel turned to face her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Here, I’ll give you an example.” She turned her attention to a shelf piled with old tractor calendars. She knew with a quick flip-through that he hadn’t saved them because of the nice photographs. “He probably kept these on purpose, because of the notations on various dates. He intended one day to sit down and copy the notes he’d made about plantings, payroll, birthdays and such.”
Isabel frowned at her. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Or it makes perfect sense,” said Tess. “Maybe this stuff is organized in a way only he can understand. I do that at work. Drives my assistant crazy, but there’s a method to my madness. We just need to figure out if your grandfather had a method.” She felt a strange, friable kinship with Magnus in that moment.
Isabel looked drained as she surveyed the boxes and papers.
Tess felt another pulse of sympathy. Clearly, they needed a break. “How about we take a walk?” she said.
Isabel nodded. “I’d like that.”
“You two go ahead,” Shannon said. “I’m going to finish organizing this chest of drawers.” She shook her head. “How many pocket knives does one person need?”
Tess led the way outside. The weather was beautiful as usual, the afternoon awash in golden sunlight and blue skies, with an autumn-scented breeze blowing across the hills. Tess tried to focus on her breathing, and for once, it wasn’t such a chore. She felt things inside her changing and shifting. The rhythm of life at Bella Vista pulsed through her, and having a project made her feel a part of things. She had somehow figured out that if she didn’t check her messages every five minutes, the world didn’t actually come to an end.
“I’m still getting used to the weather here,” she said.
“So you miss the damp and fog of the Bay Area?” Isabel asked with a little laugh.
“Not as much as I thought I would.”
Isabel sent her a slightly bashful glance. “I’m glad you’re here, Tess.”
Tess couldn’t figure out whether or not she was glad to be here. It was all so...weird, being charged with sorting out a situation that had been dropped into her reluctant lap. Even weirder, she found herself unable to stop thinking about a man who was completely wrong for her. She couldn’t stop reliving the feeling of being in his arms, the night filled with so much promise. She wondered if he thought about it, too, or if he’d simply relegated it to a lapse in judgment. Which, in all likelihood, had been the case.
They strolled in silence for a bit, following a path of chipped gravel that wove between sections of the orchard and wound down to a vast field of lavender. Although it was late in the season, some of the herbs were still in bloom, attracting a host of indolent bees.
“I was planning to start some beehives,” she said. “I’d still like to, but it makes no sense to plan anything since it looks like we’re going to lose this place.”
Tess wasn’t sure what to say to that—“Congratulations on coming out of your denial” didn’t seem appropriate. It was hard to imagine Isabel finding a life beyond Bella Vista.
“Do you ever get stung?” Tess asked, flinching from a slow-moving bee.
“Almost never,” Isabel said. “I used to be afraid of them when I was little, but Grandfather always told me they’re just minding their own business. And he was right. You’re not likely to get stung if you leave them alone.”
“That rule applies to people, too,” Tess observed.
“Yikes, that’s cynical.”
“I suppose so. Sorry. I don’t mean to be.” Then, before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “I kissed Dominic.”
Isabel stopped walking. “On purpose?”
“Of course it was on purpose. I mean, I didn’t plan it, and he didn’t, either, but it happened. And it was...nice.” Better than nice, she remembered, looking away to hide the flush in her cheeks.
“You could do worse.” Isabel walked on at a slow, thoughtful pace. A fleeting shadow darkened her face. “Don’t feel bad for kissing him.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about kissing him.”
“Maybe you need to do it some more. See where it goes.”
“Or not,” Tess said, too quickly.
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no point in getting tangled up with a guy like Dominic. No matter how nice it is to kiss him, it would be crazy to start something.”
“What’s wrong with starting something?”
“Our lives would never mesh. God. How did my head go from thinking about a simple kiss to thinking about our lives meshing?”
“Maybe it wasn’t your head. Maybe it was your heart.”
“Seriously? Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“I’m just saying, keep an open mind. He’s a good man. I’ve known him forever and...” She hesitated, looked away. “He’s a good man.”
“How long is forever?” In spite of herself, Tess wanted to know everything about him—what he’d looked like as a kid. What he used to dream about. What his life was like as a navy pilot. Why he was so devoted to Magnus.
“Since we were kids,” Isabel said. “Grade school. His sister was in my grade, and Dom was a few years older. They didn’t speak a word of English at first. But Dominic spoke the universal language of soccer. That got him the respect of the whole school. His sister, Gina, was just as good. The two of them were amazing to watch.”
Tess could imagine this too easily. Dominic moved with the grace of a gifted athlete; she’d seen that when he was playing with his kids. “So Dominic said his parents worked for Magnus.”
“They did. I don’t recall that part; I suppose I was too young. The family had some trouble; his father was injured and his mother got sick. Grandfather helped them out. Dominic was desperate to go to college. That’s why he went into the navy.”
Tess didn’t want to like the guy. She didn’t want to think of him as an adorable immigrant boy, proving himself on the soccer field. Or a kid from a poor family, wanting an education. It was simpler to think of him as the greedy banker determined to evict everyone from Bella Vista. However, the more she learned, the more she was intrigued by him. “What about his marriage? He said the stress of separation was too much when he went to sea.”
“Is that all he said?”
“He didn’t exactly say she cheated on him, but somehow I get the idea that she might have.”
Isabel said nothing.
“Stomp your foot once if I’m right, twice
if I’m wrong.”
“You don’t need for me to do that.”
Tess’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa.”
“Hazards of living in a small town.”
“You’d think being in a fishbowl would make people behave better,” said Tess. It was far too easy to build up a head of righteous steam on his behalf. The guy was off serving his country, and his wife couldn’t wait for him? Tess could only imagine what that betrayal must have felt like to him. “His kids are cute,” she said.
“Very cute,” said Isabel.
“The little girl made a point of saying her parents are getting back together.”
“I’m not surprised. Lourdes has no filters, not even around the kids. Trini might have overheard something.”
Tess wanted to know more, and yet she didn’t. The more she learned about Dominic Rossi, the better she liked him. She didn’t want to like him, because she couldn’t imagine anything but heartache resulting from it. She had plans. A life in the city. A burning dream he could never be part of, because he was irrevocably tied to Archangel. Pursuing their attraction just seemed reckless.
Isabel bent down and plucked two stalks of lavender. She handed one to Tess and tucked the other behind her ear. “Have you ever had your heart broken?” she asked.
Good lord, was the woman a mind reader?
“By a guy?” asked Tess. “Not since high school. Declan O’Leary asked me to a dance, and I was pretty sure we’d get married and have babies and live happily ever after. Instead, when I refused to put out, he started a rumor about me that I was a slut. I thought the world was coming to an end. For three whole days. And then I snapped out of it.” Despite the fact that more than a decade had passed, she still felt dark echoes of the terrible, dizzying hurt of betrayal, all from putting her trust in someone who didn’t deserve it.
Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. “So, back to Magnus. I’m probably committing career suicide by spending so much time away from work, but I’m not giving up on figuring out what happened to the egg. This is such a huge place. Where on earth would he put something for safekeeping?” She stopped walking, placed her hand on Isabel’s arm. “Wait a minute. I can’t believe I haven’t asked. Is there a safe?”
Isabel grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a small cluster of buildings. “The superintendent’s office.”
A few minutes later, they stood with Jake Camden, the produce foreman. Tess remembered him from the healing ceremony. Built like a trainee for the Mr. Universe pageant, tattooed in places she wasn’t supposed to stare at, he filled the small cluttered office with his sheer bulk.
“We’d like to have a look in Grandfather’s safe,” Isabel said.
“You’re not the only one,” replied Jake.
Tess’s head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Lots of folks would like to get into Magnus’s safe,” he said simply.
“Like who?”
“Magnus, for one. Three days before the accident, he tried opening it.” Jake led the way into a space that was part barn, part office. The safe was covered with a saddle blanket and littered with papers, a battered-looking Mac, a selection of sports drinks and odds and ends.
“What do you mean, he tried?” Tess asked.
“He could never remember the combination, and no one else had it.”
“Then why wouldn’t he have brought in a locksmith, or someone who could open it?”
Isabel said, “I wish I knew. I didn’t realize there was anything in it. He never used this thing except for a piece of furniture.”
“As far as we know.” Tess tapped her foot. “We’ve got to find a way to open it.”
Nineteen
“I need a safecracker,” said Tess, standing in the doorway of Dominic’s office.
Startled by her sudden appearance, he glanced up from the spreadsheet displayed on his monitor, which he’d been pretending to study for the past half hour. He’d been pretending because ever since Tess Delaney had appeared in his life, his concentration for other things was blown.
And now here she was again, the fantasy made flesh. And she wanted... “Sorry,” he said, shaking free of the thought, “you need what?”
“A safecracker. You know, someone who can get into an old-fashioned safe without a combination.”
“I know what a safecracker is,” he said.
“I need one. Isabel showed me an old safe in Magnus’s business office. Nobody knows what’s in it, and we can’t get it open.”
She made him smile. He couldn’t help himself. “And I can?”
“Can you?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Let’s go, then.”
A part of him balked, knowing the cautious thing to do would be to keep his distance. But when it came to a woman like Tess, he wasn’t that rational.
He found himself reaching for his suit coat. “It’s almost closing time anyway.”
He followed her to Bella Vista, noting that she drove Isabel’s car the way she did everything else—too fast, and with brash confidence.
“You always seem to be in a hurry,” he said, arriving a full minute after her and finding her waiting in front of the foreman’s office. Her arms were folded, and her foot looked as if it was trying not to tap.
“That’s because I usually am in a hurry,” she said.
“There are some things that should go slowly.”
She tossed her head. “Such as?”
“Your sister’s cooking.”
“Fine, you’re right. There’s no way to rush her salted focaccia bread or her romesco sauce. I don’t cook, though.”
“Kissing,” he said.
Color flooded her cheeks. “I beg your pardon.”
“Another example of something that should go slowly.” Dominic looked at her steadily, his gaze lingering on her lips. Since he’d kissed her, he couldn’t get the taste of her out of his head. The fact was, until he’d kissed her, he thought he was done with that kind of heart-thumping, crazy feeling of lust. Tess set his body clock back a good fifteen years.
“And sex,” he added, enjoying the flustered expression on her face. “Goes along with kissing. Slow is better.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “This is such a bad idea.”
“Opening the safe?”
“Flirting with each other,” she said.
“I don’t know about that. I’m kind of enjoying it. What’s wrong with a little flirting?”
“It’s distracting. It leads to more kissing, which in turn can lead to sex, and—”
“I’m not seeing any downside here.”
“Then you’ve obviously smoked too many of those special flowers that grow in the hills.”
“Hey, how did you know about that?”
She sniffed. “Lucky guess.” She turned decisively away and went into the building. “Here you go, man of steel. Take a crack at it. Get it? A crack.”
“You’re hilarious. I’m dying here.” He peeled off his coat and removed his cufflinks. They were stainless steel ones with the Harley-Davidson logo. The kids had picked them out last Father’s Day. Who knew Harley-Davidson made cufflinks?
He rolled back his sleeves and hunkered down next to the safe. It had a four-stop combination lock, plus a key lock. He was familiar with both. “I don’t suppose there’s a key around here anywhere.”
“No. We looked and looked.”
“You and Isabel?”
“And Jake Camden, the foreman. Do you know him?”
I’ve known him since I found out he was banging my wife, thought Dominic. “Yeah. Not surprised he wasn’t any help.” Dominic flipped open his briefcase and took out a pick set, inserting a slender rod into the keyhole.
“Don’t tell me you learned this at banking school,” said Tess.
“Nope.” He tried a different rod.
“And who taught you to crack a safe?”
“It was my cousin Joey Pistone. Yeah, his name’s Pistone, a
nd yeah, we have a nickname for him.”
“So is he a mobster, or a mafioso?” She paused. “Oh, my God, he is.”
Dominic said nothing. It couldn’t be said that Joey Pistone was the black sheep of the family, because he was like a lot of Rossi cousins—charming, shady, well connected to a web of small-time crooks and criminals. He had his uses, though. There was no lock he couldn’t pick, no safe he couldn’t crack. He’d shown Dominic his techniques many years ago.
“Let’s see if we can figure out the combination,” he said, shifting his attention to the dial. The old combination lock definitely had some loose tumblers, unlike the new digital ones that were more secure. Dominic got quiet and felt his way around the dial. It was not unlike flying blind. The process was all about a light touch and feel of the instruments, and letting sensation tap into something deep and intuitive. Like making love to a woman for the first time.
He kind of wished he hadn’t let his mind go there, not with Tess leaning over his shoulder, close enough to touch. Her hair smelled like flowers, and he could still remember how her skin felt, and the sweet texture of her mouth....
Focus, he told himself. He was good with numbers and patterns. Grabbing a pencil and a scrap of paper, he made a grid and quickly scribbled out some possibilities. Then he tried each one in turn. He could see the tension in her face.
“I’m not liking this,” he said. “Even if I figure out this lock, there’s still the key thing. Do you care if the safe gets damaged?” He took out a chisel.
“I don’t. I doubt Isabel would, either. She says she’s never known the safe to be used as anything other than a piece of furniture.”
“Excellent. You should have said so earlier.” With the chisel and a hammer borrowed from a drawer, he worked away at the shaft cover between the combination lock and the key lock. Within a few minutes, the catch gave way. He turned and grinned at Tess.
“Well?” Her eyes lit up.
“We have a winner.” He drew back the door.
“You did it.” Tess threw back her head and let out a lusty laugh. “Genius.”