#7-9--The O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  Owen gripped his double shot of whiskey. A pint of beer wasn’t going to do it for him. He needed something stronger and with a bite.

  “There you go, not answering,” she said. “Why do you do that? I don’t get it. This here…” She gestured between them.

  He stood and leaned beside her, not missing the scent of lavender. Maybe it was her shampoo or soap, but it was one of the little things about her that unsettled him. “What don’t you get?” he said, though he knew damn well what she was getting at, and he didn’t need to be such a prick about it. He sensed the minute she was about to get up and leave, so he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could slip off the stool. “Sorry,” he said. “Look, I don’t know why I do that.” He did, but saying that was easier than answering, because sharing anything with anyone was something he never did.

  She gave him everything, standing so close now that he could feel her.

  He could have stepped back, but he didn’t want to. “Sit down and finish your drink,” he said. Any other woman would have sat down and finished, but there was something about Tessa that wasn’t easy or uncomplicated. He sighed. “Please, Tessa, come on.”

  “You going to keep avoiding answering me and playing games? Because I have to say, Owen, it’s the quality I like the least about you.” It was so matter of fact, the way she said it, that for a minute he really took her in, and he didn’t miss the sincerity mixed in with all the annoyance.

  “Sorry, it’s not deliberate. Just a habit, I guess.” He swirled his whiskey and took a swallow, looking around, seeing faces he knew. When he gave her everything again, he saw the confusion on her face, as if she were thinking. What he’d have given to know what was going on in that head of hers.

  “It’s a damn annoying habit, Owen.”

  He leaned on the bar beside her as she sat back on her stool, lifted her glass, and took a swallow of her drink.

  “What do you want to know?” he said.

  “As in, ask you anything?”

  What was it about that question that had him wanting to roll his shoulders and shake off the feeling that was setting him on edge?

  “Geez, you can’t even hide how uncomfortable you are at that simple question, as if there’s something you don’t want anyone to know.”

  “No, seriously, ask me.” He knew it had come out rather sharply.

  That brought a smile to the edges of her lips. “Fine. You never answered me about my car. I insisted on driving, and you didn’t argue. I half expected you to do that thing you do and walk away or say no, or take my keys, maybe.”

  He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out. “Take your keys? That would be something, Tessa. You’d likely have decked me.”

  She raised her brows. “There you go, not really answering. It’s as if you have this secret that you need to hide. Now I’m convinced there’s really something there. Do you have a secret, Owen?”

  The way she asked had him finishing his whiskey and lifting his hand to the bartender. “No secret,” he said. “And, honestly, I don’t know why I just let you drive. With the shitshow we walked out of at the school, the bad scene, it didn’t feel right to argue. Evidently, you didn’t want to give up control by getting into my van and driving with me, so I let you have this one. So what about you, Tessa? Why are you so driven? Why the need to do it yourself? Everything about you, it seems, is a fight. If I say blue, I’m pretty sure you’d say red.”

  The bartender strode over.

  “You want another drink?” Owen said.

  Tessa just shook her head. “I’m good.”

  “I’ll take a pint of your ale,” Owen said. “Bring another gin and tonic, too,” he added, taking in the shock on Tessa’s face when the bartender walked away.

  “I said no. What don’t you understand about that?”

  He wanted to laugh at her, at the fire and fight. Anyone else would’ve likely taken the damn drink. “Force of habit, I guess—and I’m not drinking alone.”

  Her lips twitched, and she inclined her head. “Okay, you’ll get a pass for today only, but I’m not getting drunk, so if that’s your plan…”

  What was it about her? He could go back and forth with her all day. “No, not my plan, but if I recall, just a second ago, you were busting my balls about evading and not answering, yet here you are, doing the same thing.”

  She stilled as she lifted her glass, and for a second, as she gave him everything, he could see how she hadn’t expected that.

  “You’ve always been driven,” he said. “You’ve never been the kind of woman to sit back and be meek and go with things. I always expect a fight about everything with you, as if you can see only your way and think only you can do it. Why?” He wondered if she’d answer.

  She lowered her gaze and then flicked those blue eyes up to him. “Okay. What if I say I don’t know, and it’s just who I am?”

  He was shaking his head. “Bullshit,” he said just as a pint of ale appeared in front of him, along with a short glass of gin and tonic with a twist of lime on the side for Tessa.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile and a lift of her chin to the bartender. It faded as she gripped her glass and lifted it, finishing off her first drink and then sliding the glass away to reach for the second one. “I don’t want to be disappointed,” she said. “I just find it easier, and it hurts less to be the one deciding for myself. The moment I depend on anyone, I’m disappointed and hurt. I don’t like feeling that way, and yes, it’s about not being in control of things that affect me. I learned long ago to do things by myself, so if that’s what you’re seeing…” She gestured at herself. He could see how uncomfortable she was.

  “So who hurt you? Who is it that disappointed you, Tessa?” he said, though he didn’t think she’d answer. For all the years he’d known her, there was still so much about her that he didn’t know.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess it was just my dad, all the times he said he’d do something and then wouldn’t, all the broken promises. To him, they were little things. Something always came up, from the trip he talked about, to the bike he promised me, or a game, an event, a show, dinner. There was always something, as far back as I can remember. I’d get excited about something and then wait all week for that one thing, and then he’d have a bad day at work, or something would happen, and my parents would say that was life and I needed to get over it. I learned the promises he made were just dreams that would never happen, so after that, with anything anyone said, I knew if I counted on someone, I’d be disappointed. So yeah, I did it myself, everything.” She was self-assured and unapologetic.

  He took her in, considering the thing he’d never known about her. “So you automatically think everyone is out to disappoint you and can’t be trusted to follow through on something? You think you’re the only one who can do it right? Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s what it sounds like to me.”

  She furrowed her brow, and for a moment, he thought she’d argue. “You make me sound horrible, Owen.” She lifted her chin to him, and he could see how she’d gone from semi-relaxed to overthinking.

  “No, I don’t think you’re horrible by any means, Tessa. I never said that, so don’t put words in my mouth. I’m sorry your dad did that, but don’t you think by assuming everyone will let you down, that’s exactly the expectation you’re putting out there for everyone? Sometimes you can set standards so high, Tessa, that no one can meet them. Not everyone is your dad, but sometimes stuff does come up.”

  He didn’t move from where he was, so close to her. He could see this topic was associated with hurts buried beneath so many layers, and getting to the bottom of it was like peeling an onion.

  “I won’t apologize for who I am, Owen.” She gave him everything as she set her glass down. Was she considering leaving?

  “I’m not sure why you think I expect an apology,” he said.

  It was there in her face, her expression, as she shrugged. “Well, you just said you think my sta
ndards are too high.”

  He made a rude noise. “Don’t think that’s what I said. I’m just questioning your motives, is all. That’s all that is, Tessa. I’m not in your head, but most folks are just doing the best they can.”

  She pulled in a breath, and he didn’t miss the way her chest rose. He couldn’t pull his gaze from the curve of her breasts as he dragged his gaze back up to her face. She could never be lost, even in a sea of pretty women. None of the women he’d dated could hold a candle to Tessa in personality. He held her gaze and took in her gorgeous pink lips, her narrow nose, and the hairline scar on her cheekbone.

  “So is that what you’re doing, Owen, your best?”

  He didn’t know how to answer her, but he knew what she was asking. “It’s who I am, Tessa. I don’t know how to be any other way. May not be what you’re looking for, but it is what it is.” He lifted his ale and took a swallow, letting his gaze linger on her, taking in all of her.

  “You have a lot of secrets, Owen.”

  He said nothing for another second as he took in the two of them, the bar, and the fact that he hadn’t thought of the kid they’d found dead for a few minutes now.

  “Don’t we all, Tessa?”

  This time, she lifted her drink and didn’t bother to answer.

  Chapter Five

  His brother was waiting for him outside the school when he pulled up with Tessa. Her car was a compact stick shift, and after two drinks, it had been she who said they needed to go. He’d paid the bill, refused her money, and sat uncomfortably in the passenger side with his knees pressed to the dash.

  “Pull in here and park,” he said, gesturing, seeing the way Marcus and Harold both gave him everything as they talked with each other.

  “You have a hard time not giving orders, don’t you?” she said as she parked and pulled up the emergency brake.

  “I’m a man, Tessa, and one who doesn’t know how to sit back and do nothing—or is that what you would prefer?” The way he said it, he knew she understood their conversation had gone way beyond casual. Maybe it was that the two drinks had eased away the guard that seemed to be a part of who he was, who she was.

  She pressed her tongue to her lip but appeared unaffected, looking straight ahead, out the windshield. Neither of them moved. He knew his brother was waiting, staring at the two of them, but at the same time, he didn’t want to let Tessa off without an answer.

  Her hand squeezed the knob of the gearshift, and he took in her ringless fingers. He’d never asked her about who she was seeing, and it wasn’t lost on him that she hadn’t, either. Every woman he met, the first thing she always asked was if he had a special someone. The answer was always no.

  She gestured toward him. “Thanks for the drink, for the company, and for making this moment bearable.” Then she turned her head to him, giving him everything again. He knew he had his answer from her lack of response. Even her distinct blue eyes seemed to ease and soften a bit.

  He jutted his chin to his brother and then gave everything to Tessa again. “Have dinner with me.”

  Her eyes widened. He knew she hadn’t expected it. Hell, he couldn’t believe he’d asked. She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea…” she started, but he reached over and rested his hand over hers, feeling how she responded.

  “It’s just dinner, two old friends sharing a meal.”

  She shut her eyes for a second, inhaled, and he could feel her tension. His hand was still over hers. She stared down at it but made no move to pull hers free. “Why do you want to have dinner with me, Owen?”

  “Does it matter why? Do I have to have a reason? Don’t be difficult. Just go with it, Tessa. Don’t overthink it. It’s just dinner. I’ll talk with Marcus, and I’ll pick you up from your place.” He took in her surprise.

  “You mean tonight?”

  He’d have laughed at her expression, considering there wasn’t a woman he’d ever had to talk into dinner, into spending time with him, or into bed. “Unless you have plans,” he said.

  That was her out, but he didn’t think she was one of those women. He could be wrong, but Tessa had never played those kinds of games. She just didn’t roll that way. “You mean other than a ton of homework to mark, lesson plans to ready for tomorrow, and Netflix to watch? No, I have no other plans.”

  He figured that was the only answer he was going to get. He settled his hand on the door and rested it there a second before pulling it open. “Great. I’ll finish up here and see you at yours.”

  She nodded as he pulled his hand away and stepped out of her small car. “Owen…” she called out.

  He leaned down, resting his hand on the door frame. For a second, he was positive she’d changed her mind. He said nothing but gave her everything.

  “How do you know where I live?” she said.

  What was he supposed to say to that? He’d always known where she was—first at the apartment she’d rented until five years ago, then at the small house she’d rented for six months by the river before moving in the middle of the night, then at the duplex she’d rented from a couple until they sold it the year before, and then the small house five blocks from his place, which she’d finally bought.

  “This is a small town, Tessa. You should know that if someone isn’t telling someone about someone else’s business, that person doesn’t live here.”

  And the fact was that every time her name had come up when people talked, he’d always listened.

  She made a face, put her clutch in gear, and tapped the stick shift with her hand. “So who’s talking about me?” she said.

  This time, he allowed a mischievous smile to pull at the edge of his lips, and he winked. “I’ll tell you tonight at dinner,” he said, then stepped back, closed the door, and patted the roof of her car. He waited while she backed up and drove away before taking in his brother. Harold had gotten into a cruiser and was pulling out, and Marcus took a few steps toward him, all the while taking in Tessa as she drove off.

  Marcus gestured with his thumb to her. “Didn’t know you two were friends,” he said. Owen knew Marcus likely wanted to ask a lot more than that.

  “I’ve known Tessa a long time,” Owen said. “She was upset. We went for a drink.” he added.

  Marcus nodded, but he seemed distracted.

  “So you talked to Jackson’s parents?” Owen said. The last thing he wanted to talk about with anyone was Tessa or anything about the personal side of his fucked-up life.

  “Yeah,” Marcus said. “I had Lonnie head over, and he broke the news. I need to speak with them later. They have a ton of questions that I don’t have answers for.”

  He could see how this was eating up his brother. He carried a lot of weight on his shoulders, being sheriff. If he screwed up in any way, the chances of his re-election would be slim, considering all eyes were on him now.

  “You have any idea how he died?”

  His brother said nothing for a second. “Too early to say for sure, but the coroner said early signs show asphyxiation. From what, we don’t know. Are drugs involved?” Marcus shrugged. “We’ll have to wait for the tox screen to come back, and then we’ll know more. We’ll track down the kids from school, his friends. The school still doesn’t have security cameras, but someone knows something. We’ll find out. Oh, I put your tools into your van for you. I’ll let you know when you can get in and do the repairs. School’s closed for now, so the kids will have a few days off while we investigate.”

  What could he say to that?

  “You think someone killed him?” Owen said. “When I showed up, Rita Mae was going on about grad pranks. You know how they go. You and Ryan were thick as thieves in everything that went down.”

  Marcus didn’t smile, just glanced away and then winced. “Yeah, well, can’t say for sure. At least I have an idea where to start, considering I was one of those kids.” He patted Owen’s shoulder. “You heading over to Ryan’s tonight?”

  He shook his head. “Not tonight. I have plans.
”

  Marcus took him in, then looked down the road where Tessa had gone and back to him. “Tessa or someone else?”

  There it was, his annoyance at anyone asking too many questions about his personal life. “Just dinner, catching up with a friend,” Owen said. “See you Friday. I take it you’re working late.”

  He thought there was a hint of a smile on Marcus’s face, then another wince. “Yeah, I’m working late. I’ll stop in at home, check in on Charlotte and Eva, but this is a hell of a thing. Of all the years we’ve lived here and all the crazy things that may have happened in this town, finding a kid dead in the janitor’s closet at the school is something I never would’ve expected. I don’t know, Owen. Whatever turns up, I just have the feeling this isn’t going to have a happy ending for anyone.”

  Owen watched as his brother strode away to his cruiser. The emergency vehicles were still there, and there was tape across the door to mark the crime scene. As he walked to his van, he was feeling something he hadn’t felt in a good many years, as if more secrets were brewing, ones that could rock his hometown.

  Whatever it was, he hoped it would be resolved quickly. He couldn’t have explained that tightness in his chest, that weight he’d been carrying for so long. There were secrets he didn’t talk about, which seemed to simmer in a place inside him that he’d once thought was safe from anyone.

  He took in the school, pulled in a breath, and forced himself to think of Tessa. The diner where he’d once gone was exactly the place he wouldn’t be taking her tonight.

  Chapter Six

  There was something familiar about her street, he thought as he parked in front of a faded yellow bungalow with an attached garage in front and a flower bed similar to what his mom had planted—her fall garden, as she had always called it.

  He strode up the driveway behind Tessa’s compact, seeing her neatly trimmed grass and the ladder leaning against the side of the house, next to gutters that needed to be put up. The door was closed, and, seeing the tape over the doorbell, he knocked instead, taking in the missing trim around the windows.