Someone rapped on the back door, and Tessa jumped, whirling toward the mudroom as if someone were about to crash through the outside door and race into the house.
Another sharp knock split the eerie silence.
She grabbed a steak knife and crept into the room. There were no windows in the door, and she couldn’t see who was standing on the other side of it.
Whoever it was could have a gun, a knife, a—
“Tessa? Open up. It’s Seth.”
Weak with relief, she fumbled with the lock, yanked the door open and nearly threw herself into his arms. She might have if Bentley hadn’t nosed his way in between them.
“Thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick,” she cried.
“Yeah? So have I.” He nudged Bentley out of the way and walked into the mudroom, shaking his head as he caught sight of the steak knife.
“Would you really have been able to use it?” he asked, taking it from her hand and heading into the kitchen to set it on the counter.
“I hope so,” she replied, following him.
The next thing she knew, she was in his arms, her face buried in his coat, her hands clutching his sides. She wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten there, but he smelled like pine needles and crisp fall air, and he felt like home.
Her throat tightened at the thought, her eyes filling with tears. Such a silly thing to cry about.
She stepped back, cleared her throat and looked into his face. Not average at all. Exceptional—everything about him.
And she wasn’t sure what to do with that, or how to react to it.
For now, she wouldn’t react at all. She’d deal with the issue at hand. Seth and Logan running off into the woods and leaving her wondering what had happened and if they were okay.
“What happened?” she asked. “Logan said that Bentley took off.”
“He must have caught someone’s scent. We followed the trail for a couple of miles and finally lost it near the river.” He raked his hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “I thought the guy might have circled back around and come here.”
“He didn’t, and I’m fine.” But she wanted the nightmare to end, wanted to stop feeling stalked and watched and afraid.
“But what if you weren’t?” Seth took her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t let anything happen to you, Tessa. I think you should stay at the safe house until this is over. ”
“What if it never is? I can’t stay there forever.”
“You can’t run forever, either,” he responded quietly.
Bentley woofed and nosed his empty bowls.
A good distraction, and Tessa latched onto it, hurrying to fill his food and water bowls. Anything to avoid continuing the conversation.
Seth leaned against the kitchen counter, his coat open, his faded jeans clinging to muscular thighs. He looked tired, his eyes deeply shadowed. He’d thrown himself into protecting her. She couldn’t ignore that any more than she could ignore him.
She sighed, shoving loose strands of hair behind her ears. “I’m not planning on running,” she finally said, because staying really was her only option. Going into hiding, changing her name, none of those things would solve her problems. And she needed to solve them if she was ever going to move on with her life.
It was time to do that.
Past time.
The doorbell rang, pealing through the house and breaking into the conversation.
“That’s probably Logan. Stay here. Just in case it’s not.” Seth walked out of the room.
She poured hot water over a tea bag and started the coffeepot, the sound of voices carrying into the room. Logan’s voice. Seth’s. They’d both have dozens of questions for her to answer.
For once, she didn’t mind. She’d already shared her darkest secrets. There was nothing more to hide.
Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor, and the men walked into the room. Her heart jumped as she met Seth’s eyes.
“Are you making coffee?” Logan queried. “Because I could sure use a cup.”
“It will be ready in a minute.” She took two mugs from the cupboard, her cheeks heating as Seth slipped them from her hands.
“You’re flushed,” he said. “Everything okay?”
“I was just wondering if Logan found anything out in the woods,” she responded, retreating to the table and waiting while the men got their coffee.
“Nothing.” Logan settled in the chair to her left. “But there’s an old service road near where Bentley lost the trail. I left an officer there searching for evidence.”
“I hope he finds something.” Tess touched Bentley’s head, the silky warmth of his fur comforting.
“Me, too,” Logan replied. “For right now, though, I’d like to ask you a few more questions.”
“That’s fine,” she responded. She wanted to cooperate. She needed to give Logan everything he asked for, but she still felt nervous, the idea of discussing Kenya and Andrew’s betrayal as uncomfortable as ever.
Seth touched her hand, offered an easy smile, and all the nerves seemed to slip away.
“Thanks,” Logan said, taking a sip of coffee. “I know we’re all tired, so I’ll try to make it quick. You mentioned Anna Goodwin when we spoke earlier.”
“Yes.”
“I ran a search on her name and was able to trace her to a small town a hundred miles north of Houston. She moved there after she recovered from the injuries she sustained during the massacre.”
“Her parents told me that when I tried to get in touch with her after we returned home. They said she didn’t want anything to do with anyone from Kenya.”
Logan nodded. “They told me the same. I contacted them because they filed a missing person’s report two years ago.”
“She’s missing?” Tessa breathed, her heart skipping a beat at the thought. She hadn’t known Anna well, but she’d liked her. As a matter of fact, she’d spent nearly a year trying to convince Anna’s parents to let her visit.
“I’m afraid so. The last time they saw her was the three-year anniversary of the massacre.”
“I don’t like the way this is sounding,” Seth said, his hand closing around Tessa’s as if he could keep her safe by holding it.
Logan nodded and took another quick sip of coffee. “I thought the same when I heard about it.”
“Do they have any idea what happened to her?” Tessa asked.
“She’d been suffering from depression after her injury, and her parents had been worried about her mental health. Her car was found near a river. The police assumed that she committed suicide, but her body was never found.”
“So she could still be alive?” Seth said.
“It’s a possibility. Of course, there’s also the possibility that she didn’t commit suicide and didn’t disappear. That only leaves murder, and seeing as how Jack Dempsey was killed on the fourth anniversary of the massacre, I’m leaning toward that explanation.” Logan eyed Tessa for a moment longer than was comfortable, his blue eyes sharp and hard.
“You don’t think I killed her!” Tessa exclaimed, her heart thudding painfully.
“It never even crossed my mind. But I think you may know who did.”
“I don’t.” Tessa jumped up. “If I did, don’t you think I’d tell you?”
“Maybe not,” Logan responded calmly. “Since you haven’t been very forthcoming with information.”
He was right, and she couldn’t blame him for doubting her. “I apologize for that. I just...didn’t know what to do. Besides, everyone I worked with in Kenya is dead. Even if they weren’t, there’s no one I can think of who’d commit murder.”
“Not even Andrew?” Seth suggested.
She hesitated. Before the massacre, she’d have insisted that
her brother-in-law wouldn’t hurt a fly. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. He’s dead, too.”
“Maybe,” Logan intoned. “Or maybe he staged his death to cover his crimes. Maybe he used the massacre as a way to escape.”
“No.” Tessa shook her head, dizzy with the thought.
“It’s okay, Tess.” Seth slid an arm around her waist, urging her back into her chair, his hands resting on her shoulders.
“If he’s alive, Tessa, would your brother-in-law have some reason to want to hurt you?” Logan asked.
“I don’t think so, but how can I know? If he used the massacre to cover up his crimes, he’s capable of anything, right?”
“Did you know what he was doing before the massacre?” he asked.
“No. I didn’t even suspect it.”
“When did you find out?”
“Not until afterward. Jack flew over, and he told me there’d been an investigation because mission funds were being misappropriated. All the evidence pointed to Andrew.”
“There was irrefutable proof?”
“According to Jack, there was. He sent someone over to work with our team. She was there for a month before the massacre and was able to compile plenty of evidence.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“I didn’t while I was in Kenya, but Jack told me afterward that it was Anna.”
Logan nodded, jotting notes in a small notepad. “Okay. That’s a good start. I’m going to head to the office and make a few calls. Maybe someone from the mission board can clarify a few things for me. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, give me a call.”
“I will. Thanks.” Tessa followed Logan down the hall, holding the door open as he stepped into the late-morning sunlight.
Seth moved up behind her, his hands sliding around her waist and settling on her abdomen. “I need to leave, too. I have some paperwork to catch up on at the office,” he said, his breath ruffling her hair and tickling her ear. “Will you be okay with just the patrol car out front?”
She nodded, but she didn’t feel like she would be.
She felt as if she would fall apart if he let go of her, felt as if his arms were the only thing that stood between her and danger.
“Are you sure?” He nudged her around and looked into her eyes.
“I’ve been okay on my own for a long time. I think I can manage.” She tried to keep her tone light, tried to smile. The last thing she wanted was for him to spend his entire day worrying about her.
“Stay inside. Okay? No walking with Bentley. No answering the door unless you know exactly who it is. Don’t go to work, to the grocery store or out on a drive, either.”
“Anything else?” she asked wryly, but she was touched by his concern.
“Yes,” he responded.
And then he leaned down and kissed her as if he meant it forever.
FIFTEEN
By four in the afternoon, Tessa was bored to tears.
Without work to take her mind off her troubles, and without a nice long run to perk her up, she felt draggy and morose.
She also felt like calling Seth. Just to check in, to see how his day was going.
To hear his voice.
She frowned. She should be more interested in calling Logan and finding out if he’d found evidence that his theory was correct and that Andrew was alive.
Just the thought made her shudder.
She’d spent five years believing that Andrew had paid the ultimate price for his crime. That had made keeping the secret more palatable.
But if he were alive, if he’d actually faked his death, then she’d been a fool.
She walked into her room, lifting the framed photo that she kept on her dresser. It was the only one she left out. She and Daniel on their wedding day. No sign of what would come. No huts or Kenyan villagers. Just the two of them standing in front of the little church they’d been married in.
She took it from the frame, running her finger along a fold she’d made years ago and pulling it open. Andrew was to the left of Daniel, smiling into the camera.
She’d almost cut him out of the photo when she’d returned home from Kenya, but she hadn’t had the heart. She’d still wanted to believe that he’d made a mistake, that he’d been greedy and thoughtless but without malice.
She was beginning to think that she’d been wrong.
She pulled her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans and dialed Logan’s number, leaving a voice mail message when he didn’t pick up.
Outside, daylight was already fading, gray-blue dusk shadowing the landscape. A patrol car sat at the curb in front of the house. Tessa could see another at the corner of the street.
She should have felt safe.
She didn’t.
She pulled the curtains closed, left the light on in her room, told herself twenty times that she shouldn’t call Seth. He’d done enough for her. Too much, really. Sure, they’d shared a couple of kisses, but that didn’t mean she should call him every time she wanted someone to talk to.
“Cookies are the answer,” she announced to Bentley, and he opened an eye from his position near the fireplace, his tail thumping once on the floor. “You agree, right?”
He moaned, his eyes drifting closed.
So much for company while she baked.
She measured ingredients, following a recipe for white chocolate macadamia cookies that she’d learned during one of her foster placements. The wind picked up as she creamed butter and sugar together, the soft howl beneath the eaves sinister. She ignored it. She was jumpy. That was all. Too much talk about Kenya and the massacre.
And about Daniel and Andrew.
The only family she’d ever had.
That was why she hadn’t wanted to believe the depth of Andrew’s depravity. She sighed as she took out the finished cookies and slid the next pan in. The house smelled like sugar and vanilla, and her stomach rumbled. She ate a hot cookie, shaking her head as Bentley meandered into the room and sniffed the ground.
“Sorry, boy, I didn’t even drop a crumb.”
She reached for a second cookie as Bentley lifted his head and barked once, limping toward the front door.
Seconds later the doorbell rang.
Tessa hurried to the door, cookie in hand.
She glanced out the peephole, her heart doing a funny little jig as she looked into Seth’s handsome face. “Hold on.”
She unlocked the door and fumbled with the bolt, finally managing to slide it open.
“Hi,” she said as she pulled the door open and stepped back to let him in.
Cool air swept in with him, carrying the fresh scent of the rain that had just begun to fall. She inhaled it, her heart racing as he closed the door.
He’d changed into black slacks and a button-down blue shirt, his black coat open to reveal his gun holster. One hand in his coat pocket, the other wrapped around a brown paper bag, he looked tough and unapproachable, but his smile left her breathless.
“Hi yourself. I finished my work early and thought that I’d stop by,” he responded, his gaze dropping to the cookie she held. “You were baking.”
“Yes. White chocolate macadamia.”
“One of my favorites.”
“Want one? I have a couple dozen that I shouldn’t eat.”
“Shouldn’t or won’t?” He took the cookie from her hand and bit into it, grinning when she frowned.
“Shouldn’t. And that cookie was mine.”
“You said you had a couple of dozen more. I figured you could spare this one.” He finished it off, brushing crumbs from his coat. “Besides, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“I can make you something,” she offered
Tessa caught a whiff of curry and hot peppers. “Chinese?”
“Thai.”
“One of my favorites.”
“Glad to hear it. Piper will be, too.”
“Piper?” she asked as she led the way to the kitchen.
“My sister. It was her suggestion. She said you were a well-traveled woman and that you’d probably enjoy ethnic food.”
“You called your sister to ask what I might like to eat for dinner?”
“She called me to see how my shoulder was doing. I decided to pick her brain and put her knowledge to good use.” He smiled and set the bag on the kitchen table.
Her heart responded to his smile, her senses alive with the sight and scent of Seth. He filled her kitchen, and if she let him, he’d fill her life. She could feel it happening, feel the empty place in her heart filling up with him.
“Sit down. I’ll get the plates.” She turned her back to him, standing on tiptoe and reaching for the plates on the top shelf of the cupboard.
“You’re awfully short to be keeping things on shelves this high,” Seth said mildly as he grabbed the plates for her, his chest pressing against her back.
“I’m not short, and the plates are up there because I never use them.” She sidled out from between him and the counter, because being there was not good for her state of mind. When he was that close, she couldn’t think straight.
“You don’t eat at home?”
“Not big meals. It’s not really worth my while to cook for one.” She glanced at Bentley who hovered on the threshold of the kitchen. “And a half.”
“A half? That dog is three of you.” Seth pulled cartons from the bag and opened them, the spicy aroma that drifted out making Tessa’s stomach growl.
“Thai basil chicken?” she asked as Seth spooned some onto each plate.
Seth nodded. “Another one of Piper’s suggestions.”
“Your sister is a smart lady.”
“I’ll tell her you said so when I see her.”
“You’re going for a visit?” she asked, the thought of Seth leaving town more upsetting than she wanted it to be. They weren’t attached at the hip—he could do what he wanted when he wanted.
Defender for Hire Page 13