by Eve Gaddy
His career, which he couldn’t leave any more than she could leave hers. Tessa sighed deeply and rubbed her temples. She couldn’t say why, but she hadn’t yet told the college her decision. Hoping for a miracle?
The door opened just then and Will strode inside, halting abruptly when he saw her. “Tessa?” He looked like he’d seen a hallucination, and not a particularly pleasant one. “What are you doing here? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She stood, tucking her hands into her skirt pockets, for lack of anything better to do with them. “I needed to talk to you. I know I could have called but I . . . I thought . . .” She halted, thinking she ought to simply spit it out, but she couldn’t. Just as—starved for the sight—she couldn’t stop staring at him.
He stepped forward and grasped her upper arms gently, gazing into her eyes intently. “I can think of two reasons you’d be here. One is that you’ve changed your mind. Have you?”
Her throat closed, tears stung her eyes and she hastily blinked them away. “I haven’t changed my mind,” she said in a choked whisper. “I’m sorry.” If only it were that easy. If she only had love to consider.
His gaze became shuttered. “So you’re pregnant.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not. That’s what I thought I should tell you in person. I guess it was a stupid idea. I should have called.”
His fingers tightened on her arms. “Yeah, you should have. But I’m glad you didn’t.” Their gazes locked. His head lowered, her heart began to pound. She could feel his breath on her lips, could almost taste him. Wanted to taste him, hold him, love him. Then his hands dropped and he turned away.
Bereft, she stood staring at his back. “You look tired,” she finally said, aching to touch him, to soothe the tiredness away.
He shrugged, taking a seat in the single chair. Propping his arms on the desk and his head in his hands, he muttered, “God.”
“I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I’ll go.”
“Stay,” he said harshly. He looked up at her, completely expressionless. “I arrested Frannie’s killer today. A couple of hours ago. He gave a full confession.”
“You arrested him?” If he’d arrested someone today, that meant it couldn’t be Jed. He would have phrased it differently. “You cleared Jed?” Her heart leaped in happiness for him. “Will, that’s wonderful.”
“Yeah.” He laughed without humor. “Wonderful. I’m sure Jed and Gwyn will be happy. As happy as they’ll be to never have to look at my face again.”
“You were doing your job. Don’t you think they’ll understa—”
He cut her off with a savage oath, all the more shocking since she rarely heard him curse, and never so violently or crudely.
“Jed will always think I betrayed him. Which I did. I was so goddamn focused on finding Frannie’s killer, I didn’t consider anything—or anyone—else.” His hand curled into a fist, he pounded it once on his desk, so hard it rattled. “I knew Jed hadn’t done it, but I arrested him anyway. I knew that evidence was circumstantial and couldn’t be trusted. Goddamn it, I knew he was innocent.”
Wanting to comfort, she stepped closer, laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You had no choice, given the evidence. You know you didn’t. You said it yourself, if you hadn’t arrested Jed, Sheriff Fielder would have.”
His eyes flashed, dark gray with anger. “Do you think that’s going to matter a damn to Jed? All he’ll see is that I doubted him. That I didn’t believe wholeheartedly in his innocence.” He closed his eyes and swore. “I flat out told him I thought he could have killed her accidentally.”
“I think you’re doing Jed a disservice. And yourself.”
He shook her off, buried his head in his hands for another long moment. Finally he looked up. “I’ll find out soon enough. When I tell him he’s cleared of all charges because Raymond Jennings confessed to Frannie’s murder.”
“Ray Jennings?” That pompous old goat? “The bank president? Why would he have killed her?”
Will smiled, grimly and without humor. “Because he didn’t want Frannie to tell his wife that he had an illegitimate daughter. Living right here in Uncertain.”
Frannie. Illegitimate children. A daughter. “Oh, my God. Not Emmy.”
He nodded sharply. “You got it. Emmy Monday. Frannie’s foster child. My foster sister. As soon as I tell Jed he’s off the hook for murder, I get to tell Emmy that the man who killed Frannie, who killed the woman she loved like her mother, was her own father.”
Tessa didn’t know what to say. What to do to comfort him. But if ever a man needed unconditional support, Will needed it now. So she did the only thing she could think, the only thing that felt right. She put her arms around him, pulled his head against her breast. Ran a soothing hand over his hair, his face, patted his shoulder. “Oh, Will, I’m so sorry. It’s all right. You’ll find a way through this.”
His arms came around her slowly, reluctantly. Then he was holding her tightly, so tightly she had trouble drawing breath. Or was that because of the heaviness in her heart, the sorrow crushing her chest?
“How?” he asked, his voice an agonized rumble. “How do I tell Emmy her father is Frannie’ s murderer?”
The sound of someone clearing his throat came from the doorway. “Sorry, I, uh, knocked.”
Slowly Will released her. Uncertain what to do, Tessa stood awkwardly beside his chair, watching as Kyle Masters entered the room with a sheaf of papers. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need your signature on this, Will.”
“No problem,” Will said, in control once again.
Tessa marveled at how quickly the change came over him. The lawman took the place of the grieving brother, in the time it took to clear a throat. He reached into his pocket for a pen and, when he pulled it out, a piece of paper came with it, fluttering to the floor.
Tessa leaned down to pick it up, intending to hand it to him, but her hand stopped in mid-motion. The words jumped out, bright as the crimson lipstick the author of the note habitually wore. “Tonight. My place. Amanda.”
Deputy Masters left the room with another muttered apology. Silently Tessa handed the paper over to Will, her heart twisting as the meaning of the note hit home. She meant to ignore it, should have ignored it, but instead she said, “You didn’t waste any time, did you?”
A look of chagrin crossed his face. “Tessa, it’s not what you think.”
“Isn’t it?”
They stared at each other, then he shrugged, tossing the note down onto his desk. “Does it matter?”
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” she said slowly. “I have no hold—” She hesitated, wishing it weren’t true. “I have no hold over you. No right to question you. You’re perfectly free to date whoever you want.”
“I’m not dating her.” His jaw tightened, a muscle ticked in it.
“Oh, sorry.” She arched an eyebrow, to appear cool even though she was dying inside. “I chose the more euphemistic term for what I’m sure Amanda has planned.”
He swore, low and furiously. Then he reached for her, jerking her into his arms. Her head falling back, she gaped at him in astonishment.
“What do you want from me?” he demanded. “Do you want me to tell you it’s killing me? Thinking about never seeing you again, never talking to you, never kissing you or making love to you?” His mouth came down on hers, roughly, a kiss of despair and longing.
“Then I’ll tell you. It’s killing me,” he said again, his mouth an inch from hers, his eyes boring into hers. “It’s eating me alive and there’s not one goddamn thing I can do to change it.”
Abruptly he released her, turned away. His voice emerged, harsh and gritty. “Go, Tessa. Just go.”
And coward that she was, she fled.
FOR A MAN WHO DIDN’T LIKE emotional scenes, Will thought, he was r
acking them up in record numbers. He wanted to put off seeing Jed and Emmy, but they deserved to know the truth as soon as possible. At least, Jed did. Emmy didn’t deserve what was coming, but someone had to tell her. He prayed Riley would be there to comfort her, someone she could count on to love her unconditionally.
Will left his office with Tessa’s sweet taste still lingering in his mouth, the feel of her in his arms a sharper pain than the bullet that had plowed through his arm during a drug raid years before. But he couldn’t think about Tessa now, couldn’t afford any more fragile memories or feelings or regrets.
June showed him into the parlor, the room Will was coming to think of as the place where he’d killed Jed’s trust for him. Killed his belief in him. Not once but again and again. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He would tell Jed what had happened and then he’d get the hell out of his brother’s life.
“Why are you here? To take me back to jail?” Jed asked from the doorway. Gwyn stood behind him, a tall, beautiful woman with auburn hair and worried eyes, her hand on his shoulder in a silent show of support. Jed’s mouth looked grim, his demeanor weary. He seemed older than he had even a few weeks before. Being suspected of a murder you hadn’t committed would do that to a man, Will thought.
He didn’t know how to fancy it up, so he gave Jed the words straight out. “We arrested Frannie’s killer today. He gave a full confession.”
Stunned, Jed stepped forward. “Someone . . . confessed? Confessed to killing Frannie?”
Will nodded. “You’re completely exonerated.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.” He turned to Gwyn. “Did you hear? Gwyn, do you know what that means?”
Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Oh, Jed, it’s over. The nightmare is over.” A moment later she was in his arms.
Wanting to give them a moment of privacy, Will looked away. Jed and Gwyn deserved to celebrate, deserved the happiness that would come. Once he was gone for good.
Long moments later, Jed cleared his throat and spoke, his voice suspiciously husky. “Who is it? Who killed Frannie?”
“Raymond Jennings.”
“Ray?” Jed simply stared at him. “Why?” he finally asked. “Why would Ray kill Frannie?”
“It’s a long story.” And even though Jed hadn’t been close to the man, he’d said he still felt gratitude toward Ray for his help years before. “You might want to sit down.”
Jed pulled himself together. “Come to the library. I want to know everything you can tell me.”
Though Gwyn tried to leave them alone, Jed insisted she come along. Half an hour later, Will had finished the basic story, including Joleen’s part in Ray’s downfall. Jed shook his head in wonder. “How did you get him to confess? It doesn’t sound like you had anything but circumstantial evidence, just like you had on me. Thorny said a conviction would be rare, given those circumstances.”
“Surprise, and a lot of luck.”
“I think there’s more to it than that,” Jed said shrewdly. “You orchestrated that whole confession, didn’t you?”
“I got lucky,” Will repeated. Then the words burst out, pulled from him, though he hadn’t meant to say them. “I owed you, Jed. It was the least I could do after—after what I put you through. And I swore I’d make damn sure Frannie’s murderer paid for his crime.”
“I should go,” Gwyn murmured.
“No, don’t,” Will said. “I owe you an apology, too. My actions hurt both of you.” He paced the room, trying to marshal his thoughts.
“Will—” Jed began.
“No, let me finish. Let me say my piece and then I won’t . . . I won’t bother you again. I know it’s too much to expect you to forgive me, but I’d like to explain, anyway.”
Jed nodded, not speaking, and Will continued. “I had to find Frannie’s killer. It was the most important thing I’d ever done with my career, with my life. I couldn’t afford to let you matter. To let our relationship matter. I couldn’t afford to believe in you like Emmy did. Like Gwyn did. Without any doubts, any doubts at all. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t allow it. Not when . . . not when all the evidence pointed toward you. And especially not when—” he stopped pacing and met Jed’s gaze “—I believed you could have killed her accidentally.
“But, Jed, I have to tell you, no one ever tried harder to find something, anything, that would implicate someone else. Even if I couldn’t say it, I was doing everything I could to find the real killer.”
“I know that, Will. I never doubted your motives. And I know what you felt for Frannie. Remember, I loved her, too.”
“I know it’s not much, considering what I did, but I’m sorry. More than I can say.” He added the only thing left. “I won’t bother you again.”
“What are you saying?”
Surprised at the sharp question, Will looked at him. “I won’t stick around. I’ll be back for the trial, of course, but I’ll be leaving town as soon as we get things squared away.”
“You’re leaving?” Gwyn asked. “Why?”
“There’s nothing for me here. Not now that I’ve alienated the only family I had. Jed and Emmy don’t need me here, not as a reminder of what I did. Frannie’s gone and—there’s nothing left.”
“What about Tessa?”
“That’s . . . over.” As dead as his relationship with Jed and Emmy.
“What about your family?” Gwyn asked. “Are you just going to go off and desert them? Just when they need you? What’s Emmy going to do when she hears the truth? Don’t you think she’ll need all her family around her? Supporting her? Loving her?”
“I—she’ll have Riley. And you and Jed. I’m not family anymore. I lost that right the day I arrested an innocent man. My brother.”
Jed crossed the room to him. “You’re wrong, Will. We’re still your family, no matter what mistakes fall between us.”
Will stared at him, unable to believe what he’d heard. His heart stuttered in hope.
“I won’t deny I was hurt when you arrested me. That you even suspected me just about killed me. And I was angry.” He shot Gwyn a glance and smiled. “Okay, I was furious. But I think I can understand what drove you. I can even understand that a lot of what you did came from feeling you had no choice. You acted from loyalty to Frannie, and that’s not a bad thing, even if it did hurt me.”
“You should hate my guts, not forgive me.”
“Why? Because you did what you had to do to find the murderer of as fine a woman as ever lived? Sorry.” He shook his head and put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Remember what Frannie always said? We’re a family, and families stick together. No matter what.”
Will looked him in the eye and saw nothing but understanding. And love. He could only manage to say, “Why?”
“You’re my brother, Will. You always will be.”
“I . . . don’t know what to say to you.” He wanted to tell Jed what his forgiveness meant to him, but he was too damn choked up to speak much more.
“Say you’ll stay. Let us all learn to be a family again. Gwyn’s right. Emmy’s going to need us all.”
Chapter Nineteen
TESSA SAT IN HER OFFICE, fingers poised over the telephone. Her two weeks would be up soon. She needed to tell the science department chair her decision. There was no point putting it off, no point dwelling on that last scene she’d had with Will. Yet it played endlessly in her mind, reminding her every time she shut her eyes just exactly what she would be giving up to go to China.
And if she were honest with herself, she had to question how much she really wanted to go. She didn’t like going to exotic locations. From the age of twelve, she’d been dragged from pillar to post with her parents, and she’d detested it. Living conditions at the best digs were not very comfortable, and some of them were downright miserable. S
omehow, she’d blocked a lot of those feelings in her drive to get first her master’s, then her Ph.D. She’d come to accept that she would have to deal with the discomforts in order to have the career she wanted. The career she thought she wanted.
Then Will had entered her life and she’d begun to question everything. What did she want? What would make her happy? If she didn’t have to consider anything beyond doing what she really wanted to do with her life and career, what would she choose?
“Ms. Lang, can I talk to you?”
Tessa looked up to see one of her students standing in her office doorway, a couple of books tucked under his arm. Jonathon Andrews, she realized, the boy who’d told her he was changing his major to archaeology because he’d liked her class so much. “Of course, Jonathon. Come in.”
“Thanks.” He shuffled in, taking the chair she offered. He wore the standard student uniform of jeans and a T-shirt with a well known rapper emblazoned on the front. Funny, Tessa wouldn’t have pegged him as a fan of rap music. She’d have thought him more conservative.
“I know I don’t have an appointment but I—I really need to talk to you.”
He was a shy, rather earnest young man who hadn’t grown into his gangly body yet. His brown hair was cut short and stuck up in spikes; she couldn’t tell if the style was deliberate or not. A late bloomer who seemed more at ease with his books and his computer than with people. In the short time she had taught him, Tessa found that he had an analytical and innovative mind she thought well suited to archaeology. She hoped he found what he needed from Caddo Lake College, and knew she’d miss him when she left.
“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re worried about the final.”
He smiled weakly. “No, it’s not that. It’s my father. He doesn’t want me to change majors. He wants me to stay in business. I declared for business as a freshman, because—” he shifted uneasily in his chair “—well, I wasn’t sure, and it seemed so important to him. Now he’s dead set on me staying put.”