by Susan Stoker
“Meet you in two minutes,” he said and kissed her. He slipped from the bed and went into the bathroom to take care of the used condom.
After grabbing her robe off a chair in the corner, Tess padded to the kitchen and sliced the now-cold pizza into slices. She added four to a plate and popped it in the microwave.
A pair of warm, male arms wrapped around her from behind.
“Hurry,” she whispered. “My man will be out of the bathroom any minute.”
Kyle chuckled. “Your man is out of the bathroom now.”
She leaned back and rested on his chest. “You’re a hell of man, Sheriff Monroe.”
“Perfect for you?”
Turning to face him, she kissed him. “Perfect.”
The microwave dinged, and Tess pulled the hot slices out.
“What do you want to drink? Iced tea? Coke? Water?”
“Tea is fine. I’ll get some for both of us.”
Tess settled on the couch with two plates and napkins. Kyle joined her carrying two glasses of iced tea with a piece of cold pizza gripped between his teeth.
“Cold pizza?”
He handed her a glass and removed the slice. “I’ll eat pizza of any temperature short of frozen.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Now, I need to talk to you,” he said, dropping on the cushion beside her.
“What?” She took a bite and moaned a little. All meat pizza was one of her weaknesses.
“What are you doing this Sunday?”
She shrugged. “Hospital rounds. Maybe working in my sad flower garden. Why?”
“I want to take you to lunch at my parents’ house.”
Her stomach flipped at the idea. Meeting his parents right now while she was under attack in the newspapers was a horrible idea. She stalled, trying to figure out how to say no without offending him. “Your parents?”
“I do have parents, you know.”
“No. I guess I didn’t know. I mean, sure, of course you have parents. I didn’t realize they were here. Somewhere I got the idea that your parents lived in Dallas or Whispering Springs, or Tyler, not Diamond Lakes.”
“Nope. They live here.”
“I guess since Troy was the only one I met during your surgery, I somehow made the jump to they don’t live here.”
“Makes sense. Actually, they were out of the country at the time. Roger had taken Mom on an anniversary cruise out of Prague. Troy kept them in the loop on how I was doing.”
She nodded. “I see. Well, I appreciate the invite, but no. This is a horrible time to meet your parents.”
“And the rest of the family,” he added.
“I know Troy,” she said with a scoff.
“And apparently you know my brothers too.”
Frowning, she said. “Who?”
“Heath and Beau Rowland.”
“Are your brothers? But…but…their last night is Rowland.”
“As is my mothers. My dad died when Troy and I were six months old. Mom married Roger the following year and they had three children.”
“Wow.” She sagged against the couch. “I’m surprised. Rowland Ranch belongs to your family.”
He nodded. “It does. Will you come?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry but it would be awkward. Troy is not my biggest fan, and I’m assuming he’ll be there?”
“I can tell him not to come.”
“Oh, Kyle.” She leaned forward to kiss him. “No. You cannot tell your brother not to come to his own parents’ house. And thank you for wanting to take me but not right now. When the Lloyd situation dies down, maybe but not now.”
She could only imagine the nightmare of sitting a table with Kyle’s family while Troy sent nasty digs at her.
“I’m not going to give up. I know my family will love you as much as I do.”
“Except Troy.”
Kyle scoffs. “He’s just jealous. Trust me. He’ll come around.”
*
Saturday morning, Tess woke with the hot, naked flesh of man pressed into her back, a thick arm with a sprinkling of dark hair flung over her waist. An alien sensation rippled through her. Her first thought was I feel safe, but that wasn’t it. She didn’t need a man to make her feel safe. Growing up without parents and moving from foster home to foster home, she’d learned to depend on no one but herself. She pulled herself out of the deep rut that was her life, worked her way through college and med school with a ton of menial jobs and a ton of loan debt.
No, it wasn’t safety, per se. It was even a more foreign emotion. She felt loved. Kyle had always been open with his feelings. Her? Not so much. The last time she’d jumped into love, it’d been with Preston and look how that had turned out.
But her relationship with Kyle was different in so many ways, the first one being how long they’d known each other before their first kiss. A smile crept onto her lips. A kiss? Ha. She’d have rather kicked his ass than kiss him back then. Now, he filled a hole in her heart and in her life that she hadn’t even known existed. No matter how many times she’d sent him away or tried to distance her problems from him, he wouldn’t let go. Yes, she was loved and cherished, and with her life history, she was grabbing on to the feeling. How long it would list was anyone guess. It was almost impossible to imagine anyone loving her for more than a few months, but it sure seemed as though he was in this for the long haul.
“Stop thinking so loud,” he grumbled. “Hard for a man to sleep.”
“You awake?”
“I wasn’t. I am now.” He kissed her behind her ear. “What are you doing up so early? Wait, what time is it?”
“Early. Almost six. I need to get to the hospital soon.”
He groaned.
“But you don’t have to get up with me. Stay here and get some sleep. It was a, um, busy night.”
With a chuckle, he asked, “Busy night? Is that what the kids are calling multiple rounds of fantastic sex?”
She bumped him with her ass.
“Do that again and you’ll be mighty late to work.”
She bumped him again.
He’d been right. She was over two hours late doing her rounds.
When she got home, Kyle was gone, but there was a large bouquet of flowers sitting on her living room coffee table. There was a note attached that simply read, All My Love.
Pressing the card against her chest, she couldn’t contain the wide smile on her face. Kyle was not her first boyfriend, or even her first lover. However, he was the first man that wanted to take her home to meet his parents.
She found that both thrilling and terrifying.
Chapter Twelve
‡
Sunday morning, Preston Lloyd woke and found himself in an empty bed, which wasn’t a new event in his life. Since Hunter’s death, Constance had been sleeping in the guest room. He stretched his arms over his head. It was amazing how well he slept when he had the bed to himself.
After shaving and bathing, he dressed and went downstairs to see what their housekeeper had prepared for breakfast. He’d love to complain to his wife about the expense of a fulltime live-in cook slash maid, but Constance was a horrible cook and even worse housekeeper. For him, a house was only a home when it was clean and dinner was on the table when he got home. He wished he’d known all that about Constance before he’d married her.
Once he’d finished his usual breakfast of black coffee, orange juice, eggs over easy, and toast with a smidge of blackberry jam, he took his copy of the Sunday morning newspaper to his office. He sat his favorite leather recliner and popped the paper open. The headline almost made him lose his breakfast.
Local Doctor Cleared of All Charges
Damn. Double damn. How could people be so stupid as to not see Tess Sweeney’s malpractice? She was going to be a thorn in his side forever, but especially during his run for the governorship. The last thing he needed was for her to sell the story of their affair to some tabloid. He had to do something about her while he c
ould.
He placed a call to the other problem that had to be dealt with. Two birds. One stone.
“Hello?” Candy asked in a breathless tone.
“Hey, darling. I know it’s early, but I can’t get you out of my mind.”
“Hold on a sec.”
He heard a door close before Candy’s whispery voice came back on the line. “Good morning, sweetheart. I was just thinking about you. It’s so good to hear your voice. You’ve made my day. Any chance you might be able to get away for a couple of hours?” She giggled. “I’ve already told Roy I’m going shopping this afternoon, so name the place.”
Her giggle was pure fingernails on a blackboard. He winced.
“Oh, honey. I wish I could. Constance is having one of her meltdowns today. I’m afraid I’ll have to stay here. You know how unpredictable she is.” He lowered his voice. “But I’d do just about anything to be with you. I can’t wait for the day when we are together. Just you and me. When I run for governor, you’re the wife I want beside me. If only I’d met you before Constance.” He gave a dramatic sigh. “If only…”
“What? If only what?”
He sigh again. “I can handle Constance. It’s Tess Sweeney who’s becoming a real problem.”
“What? What has she done now?”
“You mean besides kill my son? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t unburden myself on you like this, but you’re the only person I’ve got in my corner. You are the only one who truly understands me and loves me.”
“Of course I do. I’ll always be here for you. Tell me what I need to do. You want me to talk to Roy about firing her?”
“I wish it were that simple. She’s been calling me day and night wanting to get back together. I’ve tried telling her it’s over and that I’ve moved on, but I’m afraid she’s going to harm herself.”
“Oh, no. That would be horrible for the hospital.”
The hospital. Idiot woman. Who cared about the hospital?
“Did you see the article in today’s paper?”
“I’ve only read the sale ads. Why? What’s there?”
For a brief moment, he really wanted to bang his head on the wall. She might be great in bed, but the woman was interested in shopping and that was about it.
“It was about Tess and the problem she had with alcohol.”
Among other things. Actually, the article had been about how Tess had turned her life around and all the volunteer work she did in the community. A real puff piece.
“That’s awful,” Candy said. “Roy won’t be happy about that.”
“I know,” he said, his voice taking on the tone he used when trying to sway jurors. “Look, I have an idea, but I don’t want to talk about it just yet. Can you meet me tomorrow morning? About ten?”
“Anything for you. Where?”
“I’ll text you the location in the morning, okay?”
“Sure. Love you.”
“Love you, precious.”
He almost gagged at his own words.
Okay, he had his first fish on the line. Now to make sure he reeled her in.
In the meantime, he turned on his computer and began composing the sad, final letter from Tess Sweeney explaining why she’d killed Preston’s lover and then herself.
*
At nine-thirty Monday morning, he sent Tess Sweeney’s home address to Candy’s phone.
“Meet me at this address at 10. Park on the street.”
Candy’s reply was, “Whose address is this?”
“A friend’s house. See you at 10.”
Preston pulled into Tess’s driveway at nine-forty-five. One thing about Tess was that she was a creature of habit. As he’d expected, he found the front door key under the rabbit planter in her flower bed. After slipping on a pair of gloves, he let himself inside and the opened the garage door. He parked inside the garage and lowered the door. He didn’t needed a nosy neighbor wondering about a strange car in Tess’s driveway.
It didn’t take more than three minutes to find Tess’s gun. Right side of the bed, as usual. The Smith & Wesson was fully loaded, which was perfect. Her fingerprints would be on the bullets. Once Candy got here, he could make sure all traces of him were erased from her phone.
The sound of a car door closing grabbed his attention. He shoved the gun into his jacket pocket and hurried to the front door to wave Candy inside.
“Is this Tess Sweeney’s house?” Candy asked, looking around. “What are we doing here?”
“Come here. I want to show you something.”
He took Candy’s arm and led her to the living room.
“Stay here,” he said. “I wanted a witness. I’m going to take Tess’s gun so she can’t hurt herself.”
“You are such a good person,” Candy cooed.
Preston walked into the bedroom door and turned. He pulled the gun from his pocket and shot Candy in the chest.
She gasped, shock covered her face. “Pres…” She crumpled to the floor.
A second shot rang out, catching Preston in the back. Fire and pain like he’d never felt arced through him. He tried to raise the gun he was holding, but it’d fallen to the floor.
“What?”
“That’s for being such a lying, cheating spouse.”
His wife walked to stand in front of him, then kicked the Smith & Wesson across the room. The next shot hit him in the groin.
“That’s for killing our son, you alcoholic bastard.”
Preston toppled to the floor, gasping to draw in a breath. She put the barrel of the gun to his forehead.
“And this is from my Uncle Vincent.”
Constance Theresa Longinotti Lloyd dropped the gun on the bed followed by an envelope. She exited through the back door, walked to her car parked a couple of streets over, drove to the Diamond Lakes Regional Airport and boarded the helicopter waiting for her. Forty-five minutes later, she boarded the private jet her uncle had sent to bring her home to Italy.
*
If there was ever a day Tess was glad was over, it would be today. Sunday’s article had turned on the floodgates for phone calls and personal messages. Of course, there were a few negative ones but the vast majority were positive and supportive.
The surgery schedule was blown to smithereens by a two-car accident. Two patients ended up in her care, but both surgeries were noneventful and routine, exactly like she liked them. Her other surgeries were bumped back on the schedule and she spent the entire day in the operating room.
When she turned onto her street, the first thing she noticed was a strange Mercedes Benz coupe parked in front of her house. Mercedes Benzes weren’t unusual in Diamond Lakes, but finding one at her house was. The second shock came when she opened the garage door. Preston Lloyd’s Range Rover was parked in her spot. She had no idea what was going on but she was sure she wasn’t entering her house with Kyle or one of his guys going with her.
She pulled into her neighbor Connie’s drive and pulled her cell from her bag to call Kyle.
“Kyle Monroe.”
His deep baritone voice sent shivers down her spine.
“Hey. It’s me.”
“What’s up, me?” His voice had a teasing tone.
“Something odd at my house.”
“What going on?” All business now.
“I’m not sure. Preston Lloyd’s SUV is in my garage and there is a strange car parked in front of my house. Can you send somebody?”
“Do not go in that house until I get there. You hear me, Tess?”
“I hear you. I’m parked at Connie’s house and you don’t have to worry. I’m not moving.”
Within five minutes, two deputy patrol cars came to a screeching halt at her address. She got out to meet the deputies at the top of her drive.
“Sheriff Monroe said for us to wait for him, ma’am.”
“No problem. I’m in no hurry.”
Kyle roared up a couple of minutes behind his deputies.
“Who does that car belong to?” he shouted
as he exited his own SUV.
One of the deputies read from the notebook in his hand. “Candace Kennedy McCall.”
“Candy McCall? Why would she be at my house?” Tess asked.
“You stay here,” Kyle said to Tess. “Men, let’s move in.”
Kyle shoved her front door open. “Sheriff’s department,” he shouted. “Come out with your hands up.”
He motioned one of the deputies through the door. From her position in the street, Tess could hear the men shouting, identifying themselves and then she finally heard, “All clear.”
Kyle waved her to the door.
“I want to make sure. You haven’t been in here, right?”
“Right.” She leaned around him trying to see inside. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve got two dead bodies. Candy McCall and Preston Lloyd.”
“What? No way. Let me see.”
He caught her as she tried to pass him. “You probably don’t want to go in.”
“Like hell I don’t.”
“Tess, stay out here. I’ve called for the state police since it’s Lloyd again.”
“But how? Why?”
“I don’t know but don’t worry.” He hugged her. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
*
The next couple of days were exhausting. Print, digital and television reporters invaded the small community of Diamond Lakes talking to anyone and everyone who would stand still. Tess was allowed into her house long enough to pack a bag—under state police supervision. Reporters shoved microphones in her face at home and at work, even though she repeatedly told them she knew nothing about what happened.
By the end of the week, the state police released her house back to her, not that she had any intention of sleeping there ever again. She wasn’t superstitious in the least, but the idea of closing her eyes near the spot where Preston had died wouldn’t be happening.
On Monday, a week after the shootings, she got a text from Kyle.
Can you come by the office this afternoon? About 4?
Depends. Is this Sheriff Monroe making the request or my boyfriend wanting to fool around?
There was a long pause before he replied.
Still trying to decide answer to your question.