He could hear her footsteps, and then the door opened. Her straight blond hair was now hanging long and loose, and she’d changed into a red and white blouse and faded blue jeans. For a second, she said nothing, her hand resting on the door.
He felt uncomfortable, uneasy. This sense of awkwardness was something he’d never felt from her, and he found himself taking her in, seeing a change in her, as if the moment she drove home, she’d had a chance to go back to that edginess and had realized she couldn’t really like him.
How had they found themselves here?
“Why do you do that?” she said, her voice accusing.
He didn’t have a clue what she was getting at. He looked past her into the house, where an empty hallway led back to a kitchen, he thought. “Do what?” he said. “Do you want me to stand out here, or are you going to invite me in?”
She gestured, and her blue eyes seemed to flash with fire for a moment as she stepped back, letting him into the house. As Owen strode inside, she closed the door, and he took in the living room off to the right with only a sectional and end tables, an old stereo, and no TV. He noted the hardwood floors, which looked almost new, and the fact that all the trim was missing.
“You always have this way about you, Owen,” she said. “You stare and you say nothing. It’s annoying, frankly, as if you’re judging things. I never know what you’re thinking, because you give nothing away when you do that. I can never tell if you love something or hate it. Why do you do that? It’s really…”
He turned to her, seeing that she was still barefoot. She had stopped talking, and he realized that was likely in reaction to him. “Habit, I guess,” he said. “I pick up more about people by just listening. Some people talk too much and give everything away about themselves and everyone around them. I don’t think it’s anyone’s business what I’m thinking or feeling, so maybe that’s why I do it. I notice things about people, but I never realized, I guess, how you’d take it.”
And the fact was that he felt as if he’d been holding on to everyone’s secrets for so long that he wasn’t about to take the chance of letting anything slip by opening his mouth. It was best to say nothing. All she did was grunt. Then she strode past him and tossed a glance to him over her shoulder as he took in her place.
“You doing some renovations here?” he said, following her into an older kitchen, where it appeared she was tearing out cabinets. He spotted an electric stove and dated yellow fridge as well as power tools against one wall where a table would go.
She shrugged as she stopped at the sink and the only cupboards left in the kitchen. “I bought this at a deal, and it needed more than a few repairs. Started with a few things here and there. The floors I did myself, and I figured I could do the cupboards too, but they quickly became more than I expected, so now I have more than a few projects to keep me busy. So, dinner…”
He pulled his gaze from the wall, which had been sanded down, over to her. She was waiting for him to say something, and she had that look on her face again.
“Right, let’s see. Burgers, pizza, or…”
She lifted a brow. “Or I could cook,” she said. That was definitely not what he’d expected, and he wondered whether his surprise showed. “I have a salad I can whip up and some steak in the fridge,” she added. It was the first time he’d sensed her uncertainty.
“Works for me,” he said. “A homecooked meal. I can even barbecue, if you’d like…”
She was shaking her head, and he looked over his shoulder to the window, taking in a small overgrown backyard. “Sorry, no barbecue,” she said. “Just the stovetop, but pan fried works if you’re okay with that, and I even have beer in the fridge.”
He thought she was teasing him as she pulled open the fridge and held up a light canned beer, not something he drank, but he took it and cracked it open. She took one for herself and closed the fridge after taking out lettuce and one large steak and sitting them on the counter by the sink. He took a step closer to her and leaned against the fridge, lifting his beer.
“You know,” she said, “I got home and realized that after finding Jackson dead, I just don’t want to go out in public. Word’s probably out about him and the fact that we were there, and then questions happen, you know? Considering the deputy already instructed me not to talk about what I saw…” She turned around and leaned against the sink, lifted her beer, and took a swallow.
He could see how distracted she was and how this was now taking a toll. Maybe it was the shock setting in. “I get it,” he said. “I told you, dinner here is fine. You should know that school will be closed for a bit, too, until the investigation is finished, so you have a few days to get settled. I guess I never asked you how you’re doing in all this. You’re right: Word will get out. It always does—and rumors and stuff. You’re best to just say you can’t talk about it. My brother will probably also question you again to see if there’s something else you remember.”
The way she was looking at him, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. She turned back to the sink to dump in the lettuce, then opened a cupboard and pulled out a bag of potatoes. She held up two as if wanting his approval or something.
“Sure,” was all he said.
She nodded. “Any idea or word yet on how he died?”
There it was, the question he’d have given anything to answer. He just shook his head, but he didn’t pull his gaze. What the hell was it about Tessa? She was the real deal—classy, difficult, nothing easy about her, but being around her had always come too easy.
“We’ll hear soon, I’m sure,” he said. “The kids at the school will all be questioned to find out what they were up to, what was really going on. The police will likely track down the last kids who were there today to pin them down and question them, and they’ll find out pretty quick how he got in that janitor’s closet.”
The location was too public, which had him thinking the death had to have been the result of some prank, maybe. Nothing thought through too well, though. That was for sure.
When his cell phone rang, Tessa watched him as he pulled it from his pocket and took in the screen, seeing his brother’s name. “It’s Marcus,” he said as he pressed the green accept button and put the phone to his ear. “So what’s up?”
“Cause of death just came back,” Marcus said. “Drugs were found in his system, a type of opioid found in prescription painkillers. He had an allergic reaction and asphyxiated.”
Owen couldn’t help but wince. “You talk to the parents, too?”
“Yeah, and they’re demanding to know where he got the drugs. It seems they were likely someone’s pills. His parents said he didn’t take anything, and they had nothing like that in the house. Could be a situation where some kids at school got a hold of mom or dad’s prescription and passed it out, or could be something else entirely, considering his reaction. Coroner said he evidently hadn’t taken them before, because of his reaction to them…”
Owen let the phone slide away from his mouth. He knew without his brother saying so that there was likely a bunch the Moores didn’t know about their son and what he had been doing. “Thanks for letting me know,” he said. “I take it you’re talking to the kids he hung around with, his friends?”
Tessa was still giving him everything, watching him.
“Harold’s talking to a few,” Marcus said. “I want to talk to Tessa again. She was his teacher, so she has an idea of which kids he hangs with. Ryan had a word with Alison.”
“She knew him?”
A frown crossed Tessa’s face. Of course, she could hear one side of the conversation only.
Owen hoped to all hell that Alison wasn’t involved. He could feel the tension pull across his shoulders, because this would be where he shut the conversation down. Family was family.
“She knows him—sort of, she said, whatever that means, but not well. She told Ryan that Jackson was kind of a nerd, didn’t really get into trouble. After some prompting when I showed up, Alison spilled that
she’d heard something about some grad prank…”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Owen cut in, pressing his finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, feeling Tessa staring at him.
His brother wasn’t laughing. He was positive he could hear something in the background, voices. Maybe he was still at Ryan’s. He thought he should maybe head over and listen in on what Alison was saying.
“Yeah, well, it gets better,” Marcus said. “Seems the kids were planning on running naked around the school after dropping some pills, which we’re thinking were the opioids. Alison said that’s all she heard. She wasn’t too forthcoming on who was involved or whose bright idea it was. She said she had no plans to run naked, so she left right after school and came home, but she did give us a few names, at least. I’m about to head off, talk to those kids, and hope to all hell their parents don’t shut it down.”
“You sure that’s all she knows?” Owen said. He knew he didn’t have to say more, because Alison had been a part of their family for only a short time, and she did have a history of getting into trouble. He was sure she was on the straight and narrow right now, but he also knew that Marcus would likely tread carefully if she was involved. Maybe after he left Tessa’s, he should stop by Ryan’s.
“Yeah, pretty sure,” Marcus said. “She was scared shitless when she heard. Ryan said he’s going to sit down with her again. Karen’s over there, and Mom too. I need to talk to Tessa now. You said you’re having dinner with her?”
“Yeah, I’m at her place now.”
There was silence for a second on the line, and he let his gaze linger on Tessa as he took in the moment that she realized he was talking about her.
“Okay, so let her know I’m on my way over,” Marcus said, then hung up.
Owen kept his gaze on Tessa, seeing the open question as he slid his cell phone in his back pocket. She gestured toward him.
“Marcus is on his way over,” he explained. “He wants to talk to you again. Jackson took some opioids and had a reaction.”
She shut her eyes, and he didn’t miss her sorrow as she swore under her breath. She was closer to the kids than any of them. “Damn kids! Why would he do it?” She gestured helplessly again. “No, scratch that. This is just another stupid thing I’ve seen kids do over the years. There’s always that moment where you know a kid is sinking and has suddenly changed. I always wonder what happened. We think of home first, but suddenly they’re hanging around with different kids, or they suddenly dress differently, talk differently. They’re not that same happy kid. Then there’s the grades…” She sighed, and he could see how rattled she was.
“Jackson was like that?” he said.
She was shaking her head, thinking, and he sensed her vulnerability. For some reason, she was letting him see a side of her that he knew she didn’t let anyone see. She settled her can of beer on the counter and then lifted her blue eyes to him. “Maybe that’s why Rita Mae called,” she said. “I thought it was quite odd, the questions she was asking…”
“Wait, Rita Mae called you here, tonight?”
“Yeah, right before you got here. She was upset, asked if I’d seen Jackson go into the closet. Then she asked about you…”
The way she said it had his eyes bugging out. “What do you mean, she asked about me?”
Anyone asking or talking about him or his family set him on edge, and the fact was that he didn’t like being on anyone’s radar. Tessa shrugged again just as he heard a knock on her front door. Of course, it had to be his brother. He knew it wouldn’t have taken him long to get there.
“Don’t look so worried, Owen,” Tessa said. “She was just being nosy, is all. But she did make a rather odd comment as she was rambling on. She said nothing has come close to the mystery of what happened with your family until now.”
She reached out and touched his arm, likely at the shock he knew had to be on his face. “It’s just Rita Mae, Owen. It’s what she does. I just hope your brother has more than one sit-down with her to tell her not to talk about the details of the investigation, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about her, it’s that she knows far too much about a good many people, and she shares everything about everybody at the most inappropriate of times.”
Then she was gone down the hall and was pulling open the front door, and he took in his brother, hearing his deep voice.
He was still stuck on the fact that someone was talking about his family, about their past, which no one in this town should have any idea about. As he thought of what he’d done, what he’d covered up, and what he hadn’t shared with anyone, sweat broke out across his back, and that sick feeling he hadn’t felt in years returned.
Chapter Seven
He’d stopped listening to what Marcus was asking, to the back and forth between him and Tessa. His brother had tossed him an odd questioning glance a number of times, but he no idea what the two had discussed.
Something about all of this was stirring unease in him. With this entire situation of Jackson, the kids, the school, and the pills, it seemed there was no logical scenario to explain who had provided the drugs. Finding the right answers meant they could close the fucking case.
And why the hell was Rita Mae shooting her mouth off about him and his family? What the hell did that have to do with Jackson Moore being found dead in a closet? This was just the kind of blindside he hadn’t expected.
His arms were crossed over his chest, hands under his pits, as he leaned against the sanded-down wall in the kitchen. Marcus was jotting something down, notes, on a small pad of paper. It was kind of old school, but then, the sheriff’s office still did things that way.
“So Belinda Lee and Hunter Rowse are Jackson’s friends?” Marcus said.
Tessa shook her head, and he could see her frustration. He was kicking himself for tuning out their conversation so he could freak out when he should’ve been giving everything to them. He made himself pull in a breath and took in the way Marcus was watching Tessa. There was something about his brother that let Owen know Marcus wanted to have a word with him, too.
“No, he used to hang around with Belinda,” she said. “I’m pretty sure she had no idea that his infatuation with her went beyond that of a friend, considering Hunter and Belinda were an item. Hunter and Jackson had been friends up until this year. Always saw them hanging out, and then they weren’t anymore. It was just Belinda and Hunter. Then there was Petey Krantz. Saw him and Jackson together, hanging out a time or two. You should talk with all of them.” She was thinking, considering, and from the way she was standing, he could tell how agitated she was.
Marcus was still looking at her. “Anything else you can think of?” he said.
Owen wanted to ask him who he’d talked to so far, and he also wanted to have a word with him about Rita Mae. “So I take it you have no leads yet?” he said, and Marcus dragged his gaze over to him. Owen knew that what he would say to him about the case in private and in front of Tessa would be very different.
“Talking to everyone again, is all,” Marcus replied.
From the way Tessa was watching them, he could tell she’d picked up on something, and he angled his head at her.
Marcus gave everything to him now. “Can I have a word with you?” he said before glancing back over to Tessa. “Thanks again, Tessa. If you think of anything or remember anything, call me, and, as I said, although you may have a lot of questions about what happened, because of the ongoing investigation, I ask you not to discuss any details.” Marcus looked back at Owen and inclined his head toward the door.
“Tessa, I’ll be right back,” Owen said, taking in the confusion on her face, before he followed his brother to the door and outside, where his cruiser was pulled into the driveway behind Tessa’s car. He took in the houses and his plumbing van.
Marcus lifted his shades from where they were tucked in his shirtfront and slid them on. “So, Tessa Brooks,” he said. “Didn’t know you were seeing her.”
Owen picked u
p on something in his voice that said there was way more to his question. “We’re having dinner, not getting married. Don’t read anything more into it.”
There it was, that amused smile on his brother’s face. “Okay, Owen, whatever you say. So what the hell was that about? I could see you were thinking some pretty dark thoughts in there, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t hear anything I said.” So his brother had noticed.
“Just something Tessa said before you came. Rita Mae called her, questioning her, and she made some comment about our family and the scandal with Dad.” He didn’t elaborate more, as Marcus reached for his glasses and pulled them down, giving Owen everything.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, you heard me. You should have a word with her about not talking to people. Then there’s the fact that she’s asking about Jackson and the closet. She asked Tessa if she saw him go in. You know, that busybody kind of thing can create rumors, problems, and maybe even some false leads that could have your investigation going in the wrong direction.”
The fact that she had brought up his family, his dad, after all these years was what bothered him the most, though. Something about it had him wondering what the hell she knew.
“I’ll have a talk with Rita Mae again,” Marcus said. “She shouldn’t be calling and talking with anyone. I’ll make sure she understands this is a police investigation, not hers. It could be, too, that her and Tessa finding the body the way they did…” His brother looked around before shaking his head and making a rude noise.
“Rita Mae is the one who found the body,” Owen said. “She screamed. That was the reason Tessa and I came running. You know, as we’re talking about it now, I never thought to ask her what she was doing in the janitor’s closet. She didn’t say anything to you? Maybe we should compare notes.”
Marcus hesitated. “How about you just tell me everything? Harold was the one who spoke with her, but you’re right—why was she in the janitor’s closet? Why is she bringing up our family and what happened with…with Dad?”
#7-9--The O’Connells Page 4