by Vella Day
From Chelsea’s excitement, Tessa guessed some hot, rich stud had arrived. Good for her. Chelsea could use a new beau to distract her.
“Who?” Tessa whispered back, not wanting to disturb Mandy. The baby had finally fallen asleep after fussing for over an hour.
“Detective Rossi.”
Oh, God. Ice poured through her veins. “He’s here?” She’d answered all of the detective’s questions. Why had he come back?
“Yeah. He’s sitting at the bar next to the door. He’s looking real hot. Black dress pants, maroon fitted shirt open at the throat and—”
“I know who he is.” Tessa had been too anxious to think about him as a man or to notice how broad his shoulders were. Right. “He’s so not your type,” Tessa blurted. If the detective fell for Chelsea, he’d be around all the time, and she didn’t need the law around with her ex-husband cop turned con searching for her. Police stuck together.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Chelsea ran a hand over her pulled back hair.
The man had to be more than ten years older than Chelsea. What was the girl thinking? “Well, thanks for letting me know, but I really don’t care what he does in his spare time,” Tessa said with amazing calm.
Chelsea giggled. “I’d better put in his order.”
“Good idea.”
No sooner had Chelsea disappeared and Tessa had settled comfortably at her desk when the door nudged open. Tessa jumped. She grabbed her heart when she saw it was only Roger. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. Were you expecting someone else?”
“No.”
“We, uh, need some help in the kitchen unloading a couple of crates.”
Her pulse slowed to normal. “Okay. I’ll send Charley in to help.”
“Thanks,” he answered in his usual monotone.
The man needed a life she decided—or something to jumpstart his heart.
Look who’s talking? School had occupied all her time until three weeks ago. Now the restaurant had become her life. She hadn’t shopped or gone to the movies once in that time.
Tessa jumped up from her seat. Damn. Now she’d have to make a public appearance and be under Detective Rossi’s watchful eye.
She took two deep breaths and plunged into the restaurant, eyes focused ahead.
3
Ralph Ferino was pissed. First, it had taken him three straight days to drive from Colorado to Tampa. He’d battled a blizzard, and then a hailstorm with ice so big it pummeled the car. The hood looked like Al Capone’s gangsters had used it for machine gun practice. Not that it mattered. The heap was a rental.
What irked him was the fact he didn’t have enough money to buy his own car. But hell, he’d only been out of jail a short while. Nobody, and he meant nobody wanted to hire an ex-con. It didn’t matter he had been a decorated police officer. The fact he’d been incarcerated cancelled all the good he’d done in his life.
He figured as long as he was now an official outcast, he was going to make sure the bitch who’d made him one paid big time. Tessa Marie Redman Ferino would be ever so sorry she'd double-crossed him.
The second he’d been released, he went looking for her. He’d checked out all their old haunts in Denver, but she’d vanished. Then he got smart and paid his former partner a visit. It hadn’t taken long to convince Smithers to hack into records at every state university for a Tessa Redman or a Tessa Ferino.
Bingo. Tessa was registered at the University of South Florida in Tampa. It actually came as a surprise she actually had the guts to finish pursuing her Ph fucking D in psychology. She’d sure taken her sweet time when they were married, always having an excuse why she couldn’t get a full time job.
The Florida part he expected. Her half-brother and dad lived in the area. Dumb bitch.
Why not change your name, girl? She had to know he was going to come after her. And here she was supposed to be the smart one. Hadn’t he taught her anything?
He’d called information in Tampa, but they didn’t have a Tessa Redman listed. At least she’d done one thing right.
Now that he was here, he needed to locate her. He could stop at the restaurant, sure, but there was no way Judd would give up his own sister.
And in the off chance she was there, Ralph wanted their first confrontation to be private—as in no one around to hear her scream when he did wonderfully-painful-things-to-her-body kind of private. As to what he’d do first? Satisfy his needs. That was a given. Three years was a long time to go without any woman. Then he’d make sure she never told on anyone again.
He had thought his best bet was the USF registrar’s office. Wrong. The tight-lipped bitch wouldn’t give him any information. She said personal information was for the student only. He wanted to belt her one, but with twenty witnesses, he restrained himself.
He’d left the university too tired to think and had found a sleazy looking motel a few streets away. He checked in with cash. Always cash. Never credit cards. He wasn’t stupid like most of the criminals he used to catch. Of course, he had to use his fake credit card for the rental car, but he had no plans to use that piece of plastic again.
He was smart. Tony the Forger had made a new set of credentials complete with a new name.
The motel clerk had barely looked at the ID. Good thing since the photo wasn’t a good likeness.
After a few hours of sleep, Ralph opened his eyes, refreshed and ready to begin his quest to find his holy grail—Tessa.
First stop—dear old daddy Redman’s place. The guy would talk. If he didn’t, he’d suffer. Big time.
Ralph had been to his father-in-law’s beach house only once, right after he and Tessa had married. He didn’t have to look farther than a phone book to find Dan Redman’s address. Sorry bastard.
The roads to the beach hadn’t changed much save for an addition of a few high rises along the way. He was pleased he located the place without much trouble, especially in the dark.
Dan’s place had one lone light at the front door. With only the half moon to light the area, Ralph couldn’t tell much, other than the place looked like it could use a paint job and a landscaper. The small home wasn’t worth the concrete it was made out of, but the property was probably worth a mint being so near the beach and all. Didn’t look like Tessa’s dad had fixed anything after the last set of hurricanes either. Two of the shutters hung by a nail and covered part of the window.
Ralph decided it wiser to park about two blocks away and walk to Dan’s place. He didn’t want the neighbors to remember his car if things got ugly.
He rapped on the door. He knew the guy was inside since the television was blaring.
It took a full minute for Dan to answer. Was the old guy deaf or something? When his ex father-in-law cracked finally open the door, fear laced his face the moment recognition hit.
“Ralph? Is that you?”
Good. He wanted the old man on edge.
Ralph had to admit he was a little surprised to see him in a wheelchair. He wondered what had happened but didn’t care enough to ask.
“Sure is. Long time, no see, Dad.”
The old man’s lips thinned. “What do you want?”
Ralph barged in, not waiting for an invitation and checked out the small two-bedroom. “I see things haven’t changed.” No housekeeper or significant other came charging out of a side door, implying he lived alone.
“Get out.” Dan's pronouncement came with some authority. Ralph respected authority. Not that it would change the outcome of the visit.
“I need to find your daughter.” Ralph fingered Tessa’s photo displayed proudly on the mantel. She was still beautiful. “I see she cut her waist-length hair.”
“Yes. Now leave. Please.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Not in over a year,” he spit out.
“Now that’s bullshit, and we both know it,” Ralph said evenly as he turned to face the old man. “I happen to know she’s registered at USF, not even an
hour from here.”
His face blanched. “Look, she doesn’t want to see you anymore. She has a new life.”
Ralph laughed. “Tessa, a life? You’re lyin’, old man.”
Dan wheeled over to a side table and picked up the phone. He couldn’t have that. Ralph pulled out a knife and flicked open the blade. “Why don’t you put that down?”
Dan’s jaw slackened and did as Ralph asked. “What are you going to do?”
The pathetic man firmed his jaw and stabbed a fist in the air. Like that was going to scare him.
“Well, I’m not leaving until I know where I can find my lovely wife.”
“She’s not your wife anymore.”
His tone was getting a little too aggressive for Ralph’s tastes. The man needed to be taught a lesson.
“A mere technicality,” Ralph explained as he stepped toward Dan, brandishing the blade.
Ralph jumped behind the guy’s wheelchair, and before Dan could get his hands on the wheels to spin around, Ralph pressed the blade hard against his Adam’s apple. The old man grabbed Ralph’s knife hand with both of his and tried to pull the blade away, but it didn’t do any good. Three years in prison made a man strong—stronger than any cripple.
“She’s at the Blue Moon,” Dan said with a strangled cry.
“Good. I like a man who cooperates.” Ralph let up on the pressure. A little. “But why would she be there? Shouldn’t she be studying?”
“Judd’s in the hospital. She had to take over for him.”
Interesting. With a flick of the wrist, he sliced his former father-in-law’s throat. That last thing he needed was for him to warn the bitch. Ralph wiped the excess blood from his blade on Dan’s shirt.
Now to get what he’d come for—Tessa’s address. He decided it was best if he made Dan’s death look like a robbery. Not that a real robber would break into this dive, but he’d attempt to make it look real enough to fool the local cops.
Ralph headed into the bedroom, glad he felt nothing over the old man’s death. In the past he would have, but the joint taught him survival, not sympathy.
One good thing would come from the old man’s demise. Tessa would suffer. She loved her dad. She loved him more than she’d loved her own husband. Bitch. He’d make her pay for the agony he’d gone through in jail.
The time he’d spent in the Colorado penal system gave him plenty of time to think about how he wanted to live his life after prison—A.P. as he called it. So far everything had gone according to plan.
Just thinking about seeing Tessa gave him an added jolt of pleasure.
Ralph donned a pair of latex gloves and refocused on the task on hand. The desk drawers provided fifty bucks in cash but no address. Shit. Wouldn’t a father have something with his daughter’s address? Guess he had no need to write when they lived close.
Ralph didn’t figure anyone would be stopping by tonight to socialize with dear old Dad, but he didn’t need to be staying there for a prolonged visit either. Time was up. Except for the money and the photo of Tessa, he’d found nothing.
Well, almost nothing. He’d found out where she worked. That counted for something. Ralph decided he’d wait for her outside the restaurant and follow her home. Simple as 1-2-3.
He could just picture the look on Tessa’s face when he announced, “Honey, I’m home.”
He swallowed his chuckle as he snuck out of the old man’s house and headed back to Tampa. Time to take care of Tessa.
Knowing Dominic Rossi was anywhere in the vicinity, set Tessa’s nerves on edge. The odd sensation infusing every inch of her body wasn’t her usual one of fear, but she refused to analyze the mixture of excitement and trepidation.
Tessa marched up to Charley and touched his arm, keeping her focus only on him.
“What is it?” he asked with concern in his eyes. “Is the baby okay?”
“Yes, Mandy’s asleep. Thanks for asking. Roger needs help in the kitchen. I’ll watch the bar.”
Obviously relieved, he dropped his clenched fist. “Okay.”
Tessa avoided making eye contact anywhere near the door. Because she suspected the detective’s gaze was on her, her hands began to sweat and her pulse turned erratic. To help with the jitters, she busied herself straightening the liquor bottles, while keeping her back to the patrons—and to Detective Rossi.
“Hey, sweetcakes,” a familiar voice called. “Can I have another drink?”
Hackles rose up her spine at the nickname, but she turned around to face the pain-in-the ass, Bob Dirkman. “Scotch, Bob?”
“You got it baby. On the rocks.”
He was on the rocks, all right. With his wife. That was his problem—or most of it, anyway. Tessa didn’t want to get into another pity party with the washed up salesman tonight. She wasn’t in the mood to play shrink, nor was it the right time to confront Bob about his inappropriate name-calling, especially with Detective Rossi watching. She didn’t want any of his attention on her if she could help it.
Her hand shook as she poured Bob his drink, but at least she didn’t spill any. When she set the glass in front of Dirkman, he grabbed her hand.
“Thanks, darling.”
“I’m not your darling.” She pulled away and turned from him again, fuming. Be nice. Without patrons like Bob, she wouldn’t make money—money her brother needed.
“Hey, you’re a woman,” Bob said, seeming to ignore her brush off. “Can you tell me why Brenda would want to go off like she did?” He took another chug of his scotch. “How could she just leave me with three kids? Is this a natural thing to do when a gal turns forty?”
The man was drunk, but the sadness in his voice made her answer. “I don’t know, Mr. Dirkman. Women do crazy things just like men sometimes do.” She knew she sounded tired, but at least she was trying to answer him honestly.
He took a long drink from his glass. “Tell me something else then. And be honest. Am I attractive? Or am I too fat?” He patted his stomach as though he needed to test if his belly had gotten any larger since he’d walked in.
She didn’t want to go there. “What do you think?” Answering a question with a question was the safety net for all psychologists.
“Well, I’ve gained a few pounds over the years,” he replied. “But hell, I’ve worked hard and deserve a little relaxation on the weekends. Brenda never understood that. You want to relax sometimes too, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Not needing this right now, she walked toward the cash register, scanning each drink along the way to see if anyone else needed a refill.
“Hey, I was talking to you. Don’t turn your back on me,” Bob yelled.
Her face heated up like a bad sunburn. She closed her eyes to regain control before facing him. She walked back to where he sat and kept her voice low. “Maybe you should go home to your children, Mr. Dirkman.”
He leaned over the bar, grabbed her upper arm and gave a good yank. “Don’t tell me what to do. You sound like my wife.”
“Let go, Mr. Dirkman,” she said between gritted teeth as she tried to pull away from him.
His fingers released their hold and Tessa moved back. She rubbed her upper arm and bet his fingers had left welts. Jerk. If Judd were here, he’d know how to handle this guy—but he wasn’t, and sadness swept through her.
Mr. Dirkman sucked in an audible breath when Charley materialized out of nowhere and grabbed him in a chokehold.
She rushed up to him. “Charley. It’s okay,” she cried. For a moment she believed the bartender might break the guy’s neck.
“Let...me... go. Ple-ease.” The poor man’s eyes practically bugged out.
Charley dropped his arm. “Don’t ever touch her again.”
Mr. Dirkman coughed and ran a hand over his reddened throat. “You guys are all crazy. I’m outta here.”
Tessa said nothing as he raced out of the bar, half running, half stumbling. He hadn’t paid. Damn.
The place had gone quiet, and all eyes were on her.
&nbs
p; “Excuse me, I need to see to Mandy.”
Could she die or what? Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t handled the situation as well as she could have.
Hurray up, Judd. Get a liver.
She placed an ear against the office door and didn’t hear a peep from the baby. Just as well. In Tessa’s agitated state, she’d probably wake her niece. She decided to check the kitchen. Roger had needed help unloading some food, and she wanted to see if Charley had finished the task.
That wasn’t entirely true. She needed something to do, and this was all she could think of to occupy her time.
She stepped inside the hot kitchen that was filled with the wonderful aroma of dill and garlic. Tessa leaned against the wall. Seeing Charley grab Mr. Dirkman had shaken her. She appreciated the bartender coming to the rescue, but she hated violence. The way he’d grabbed the man’s throat in a death grip had freaked her out.
“You okay, Tessa?” Roger asked in his slow, metered speech.
She was surprised he’d even noticed. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Mick stopped chopping the celery in mid stalk and glanced up. “Who screamed?”
She’d screamed? Here she thought she’d only grunted or worst case, let out an audible gasp. “I guess I did.”
“You should have seen Charley the second he heard you,” Mick said. “I didn’t think a guy his size could move that fast. What happened?”
“Nothing, really. Mr. Dirkman was drunk. He grabbed me and Charley stopped him.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth pinched. “Does this kind of thing happen a lot? Because if it does, I could take a spin out to the bar every once in a while to make sure nothing happens to you.”
His eagerness to protect made her want to chuckle. Although Mick was scrawny, she bet jail had given him plenty of muscles and fighting know how.
“That’s all right. But thank you anyway. I need you in here more. I can take care of myself.” Unless Ralph shows up.
She wondered if her ex had changed much since his stint in the pen. Mick seemed unscathed by his whole ordeal. Or was he? Maybe Ralph had mellowed too. Right, and the bank would forgive her hundred thousand dollar student loan.