by Mel Teshco
Lettie frowned over at Tara, ‘A fire happened.’
Jessie gently disentangled the woman’s cast-iron grip and stepped closer to Tara, one arm going around her waist. ‘I heard it was a restaurant,’ he said with a hint of regret. ‘Such a waste. I hope no one was hurt …?’
Lettie’s cheeks rounded before she blew out a slow breath. ‘Matter of fact there was a tragic death. They found some woman’s charred remains. Of course the police or forensics or whoever is still investigating; don’t know why though, it’s been almost three weeks, somethin’ should have turned up by now.’
Tara stiffened. ‘A woman’s body?’ she asked.
Lettie nodded. ‘Folks around here are still mourning. They seem to know who the woman was even if the authorities don’t. Said she was the sweetest soul who made the best damn pies in the country.’
‘Thanks for filling us in.’ Jessie smiled at the woman before guiding a trembling Tara over to where the hum of fridges kept bottled water and other drinks cool.
‘My mother made a different pie every week,’ whispered Tara, her pale face even paler. She looked up, her eyes glittering. ‘Before the drought and before she got sick, people would come for miles to try her latest pie special.’
‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’ He pulled her in and held her, calming her.
It was Tara who pulled away first, and with a little hiccup said, ‘In this dimension my mother must have stayed well and still ran the restaurant.’ She blew a wisp of blonde hair from her face. ‘I wonder if my other self even knew my mother had died in a fire?’
‘That’s something you might never know,’ he said gently.
He glanced at the shopkeeper whose interest seemed wholly on them. Why hadn’t the shopkeeper at least had a moment of déjà vu when she’d spotted Tara? It didn’t add up.
He released a taut breath, decidedly uneasy. ‘We better get out of here before someone does recognise you, especially if we’re wanted by the police.’
She nodded woodenly, her eyes a little glazed. ‘Yes. You’re right.’
He wanted to comfort her, but that could wait when they were in the safety of the Hummer. Instead, he grabbed two bottles of water and some snacks, before opening his startlingly empty wallet. ‘Crap,’ he said, recalling the money packet they’d left behind for the dad who’d been lonely and bitter.
He didn’t want to use his credit card, not if the authorities were trying to find him.
Tara unclipped her purse and handed him a fifty, before casting him a wobbly smile.
He accepted the money, slowly. ‘Was there another money packet in the glove compartment?’
She shook her head. ‘I didn’t even look, not since it’s your dimension. Stood to reason there’d be nothing in the Hummer you didn’t already know about.’
He handed the crisp note to the boggle-eyed Lettie, who was openly eavesdropping and no doubt trying to work out what the hell they were talking about.
He cleared his throat and glanced at Tara. ‘Then where—’
‘From my cash register in the last dimension.’ She shrugged, though her ashen face reddened a little. ‘It’s not stealing if it’s already mine.’
He nodded, appreciating her foresight. Hell, one of his selves had murdered a man, who was he to lecture on supposed stealing?
As Tara took the bag of drinks and snacks, then headed outside, Lettie handed over the change to Jessie before he asked, ‘Just out of curiosity, did a Tara Mayfair ever come back here after her mother perished in the fire?’
If Lettie’s eyes had boggled earlier, they were all but out on strings at his question. ‘Are you another one of those celebs who are on the drugs?’
She was too close to the truth—apparently, if only she knew it.
‘Not in this life,’ he said with a twist of his lips.
Lettie rolled her eyes heavenwards, as though wishing for some divine intervention. Guess the novelty of meeting a celebrity chef was fast wearing off. ‘The only Tara Mayfair I know of is the one the locals are saying died in the fire. Her mother apparently disappeared not long after, too grief-stricken to hang around …’
Whatever else Lettie had to say didn’t even infiltrate his mind. He stepped backwards, as though warding off a chill. One heel struck a bucket of flowers and water loudly sloshed.
Lettie clapped her mouth shut, a deep frown marring her brow.
He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. On impulse, he bent and plucked one of the drooping flowers from the bunch in a bucket of water, before handing it to her, ‘It’s been a … tough day.’
As he strode outside, he realised he’d all but repeated his former action to the same shopkeeper in another dimension. He glanced over his shoulder. Lettie stared at him with an open mouth, seemingly trying to decipher a memory just out of reach.
It was a safe bet the shopkeeper would never grasp the phenomenon that he and Tara were only just coming to grips with themselves.
‘You okay?’ he asked Tara, sickeningly aware she wasn’t even meant to be alive in this dimension.
She took a mouthful from one of the bottles of water before capping the lid. ‘I’ll be fine.’
She looked a long way from fine. If anything, she looked a little worse.
She dropped her drink back into the plastic bag. ‘Let’s go find your sister.’
He leaned forward and kissed her moist lips, loving her so much it was a physical ache. He pulled back. ‘When this is all over, I’m going to make it up to you somehow.’
Her eyes softened. ‘You don’t need to keep telling me that, Jessie. I know now that you did what you thought was right at the time. You’ve got nothing to prove.’
He refrained from kissing her again, but as he opened the passenger door for her, all he could think about was how deeply in love with her he was on every level. In comparison, the once supposed love of his life, Mercedes, had been little more than a shell without any substance. Little wonder his business commitments had taken precedence over trying to make things work between them.
Back on the road, Tara turned to him. ‘It was unnerving that Lettie didn’t recognise me. Perhaps I’d already left with you before she started working at the shop?’ Her voice sharpened, ‘Which means I left my mum to work the restaurant on her own.’
Jessie’s hands clutched a little harder on the wheel. He didn’t want to explain the queasiness rushing through him. Some things were better left unsaid.
Tara didn’t even exist here. The very idea was obscene.
Her eyelids began to droop and when she gathered up the jacket to use it as a pillow, he flicked on the radio, tuning into a gentle melody to help ease her fully into sleep.
She slept deeply, her face relaxed and peaceful. Like some love-struck fool he glanced her way every few minutes to drink her in, admiring the curve of her jaw, the blush of her slightly parted lips, the shiny bits of blonde hair that’d escaped the knot to surround her face like a halo.
Perhaps all she needed was some catch-up sleep to make her feel better? So why then did his gut immediately twist with rejection, a sixth sense warning him she was in danger?
He stared ahead at the bitumen road. The headlights pushed away the night and the white line markings slipped past almost hypnotically. It wasn’t enough to keep him preoccupied from the maze of thoughts tangled in his mind. Tara. His sister. His mother. His father. Everyone close to him was affected in one way or the other in each dimension.
Even so, he was unwilling to disturb Tara, no matter how much he’d have welcomed the distraction as one hour merged into two, then eventually almost six.
She woke as he cut the engine to refuel, her groggy stare immediately swinging his way. ‘Where are we?’
He blinked gritty eyes. ‘Three or four hours from Sydney.’
She straightened in her seat, getting her bearings though it was still pitch-black. ‘Oh! You know I would have gladly shared the driving.’ She finished the sentence
with a loud yawn and he grinned as she clapped a hand over her mouth.
She was looking a little better now, not so pale and bone-deep weary. He unclipped his seat belt. ‘You were deep asleep. Besides, I’m well used to travelling this route now.’
He filled the Hummer’s tank while she used the restroom and freshened up. He was just sliding the nozzle out of the tank when Tara returned, handing him a fistful of money from her purse.
He blew out a breath. It was inconceivable, this turnaround between them. He’d been the rich jerk more than willing to pay her money for sex, and now she was the one handing over the cash—but asking for nothing in return.
Tara seemed to sense his reluctance. ‘I’m sure Tara from the last dimension would want you to have it,’ she said.
He accepted, more than aware there was no other way to pay unless he used his credit card. And neither of them knew what had transpired in the days he’d been gone. Aside from the crime scene back at Mirraway, maybe one of his other selves had committed a crime elsewhere?
Tara took the wheel for the last few hours as he settled into the passenger seat and discreetly watched her. She looked fragile still, as though even her inner tiger was unable to rouse itself.
She glanced at him, a tired smile pulling at her lips. ‘You do know it’s rude to stare, right?’
Not so discreet after all.
‘I was staring?’ he asked with mock innocence. ‘And here I thought I was lost in thought. I must be sleep deprived.’
She pushed a button to allow her driver’s side window to wind down, a whole lot of fresh air whipping her hair as she focused on the road ahead and its more regular stream of traffic. ‘And here I was thinking I had spinach in my teeth or something embarrassing like that.’
Jessie managed a rumbling laugh, aware he too was dead tired and the effort to respond was just too damn exhausting. But as his lashes drifted closed with his angel the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him, he knew no matter what lay ahead of them, he wouldn’t lose her.
Chapter Sixteen
Dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and burnt orange when Jessie woke to Tara turning the Hummer into his harbour-side mansion. But it wasn’t the views that captured his attention.
‘My god, Tara, are you okay?’
Even in the dim light, the dark shadows underscoring her eyes were obvious. She looked about ready to collapse.
She killed the engine and sagged against the seat. ‘I’ll be all right, I just need some sleep. I don’t know why I’m so tired.’
He grabbed her purse and slipped out of the car, opening the driver’s door and putting his arm around her shoulders once she alighted. Jesus, she was frail. How hadn’t he noticed how much weight she’d lost in such a short time? Her curves were one of the many things he loved about her.
At the front door he keyed in his entry code, and then stepped inside the still silent house. His sister would be asleep and Beatrice, his live-in housekeeper, wouldn’t arise from the small unit below the main house for another half hour or so.
‘Welcome to my home,’ he said drolly.
Sensor lights flicked on as he led her across the polished floorboards that smelled faintly of cedar and beeswax, and through the spacious lounge room with its huge windows overlooking the water.
‘Watch your step,’ he murmured as they approached the stairs to where his bedroom, study and ensuite occupied half a floor.
Tara’s breaths were heavy and ragged when he at last guided her into his bedroom. He absently noted the splash of orange-red that was his feature wall and the king bed with its thick black-and-ochre comforter. ‘Do you want a shower, or I can run you a bath if you prefer?’
‘No, just … the bed. Please.’
He nodded. ‘Of course.’
Within seconds of him pulling back the comforter and top sheet, Tara all but fell onto the mattress, her eyes fluttering closed and sleep instantly claiming her.
He placed her purse on the bedside table, then tucked her in and stood looking down at her for long minutes. Anxiety flitted through his mind like moths seeking the light. Had Tara’s death in this dimension meant that none of her other selves could live here either?
He had the unsettling impression that maybe he’d hit the nail on the head.
He sucked in a heavy breath. He wouldn’t allow Tara to die on him. They’d been destined to meet. Just like he’d been meant to save her, right along with his sister! Without Tara by his side there’d be no sunshine in his life, no joy.
Time meant little when it came down to it. Tara was his in every way. His lover. His soulmate.
He swung away, determination filling him from the inside out. There was much to do before Tara woke and he could get her home to her own dimension. And undoubtedly little time in which to get it all done.
He strode downstairs and headed in the direction of Lolita’s bedroom. He had to see her and tell the truth … make her believe him and understand that she had to be super careful from now on and keep her guard up.
At least until he worked out what the hell he was going to do to protect her and keep her safe.
He didn’t take the time to appreciate the huge chef’s kitchen he passed, nor the well-equipped gym, media room and four other bedrooms with their own ensuite bathrooms. His entire focus remained on what he had to do.
At Lolita’s bedroom he knocked on the door, paused a couple of beats, then pushed on through.
He froze. Her bed was fully made. Horror swirled in his belly before threatening to rise as bile in his throat.
I’m too late.
He closed his eyes, taking deep, steadying breaths. He needed to get a hold of himself. She was probably just at a friend’s house, sleeping over.
‘Jessie, you’re home!’
He jerked at the housekeeper’s voice behind him, before turning with a strained smile to the rosy-cheeked woman who’d been under his employ for almost as long as he’d been a chef. ‘Beatrice. Yes, I’m … home.’
She stepped forward, relief evident in her watery blue eyes and the palm she had pressed to her bosom. ‘I’ve been on the phone for the best part of the night. Why didn’t you show up at your restaurant opening last night?’
Jessie stared. If what Beatrice said was true, time had stilled from the moment he’d stepped inside the house and then restarted from the moment he’d stepped back into his own dimension.
Tara’s insight about time standing still had been right. He could have gone in and out of other dimensions for a decade or more and then stepped back into his own world the same day and time he’d stepped out of it.
Odd how the day he’d gotten lost and found the little old house, then met Tara, seemed as if it’d happened a lifetime ago.
Beatrice’s eyes rounded. ‘Jessie, is everything okay?’
Somehow he found his voice. ‘Ah yes, I’m fine. And I’m sorry I … disappeared for a bit.’ He shrugged. ‘I actually got rather lost after being directed to a shortcut.’
The housekeeper clucked her tongue. ‘Well, as long as you’re back home safe and sound, that’s all that matters.’
He nodded, somehow reassured by Beatrice’s dependable normalness. It still didn’t stop his jittery pulse at his sister’s empty bedroom. ‘Do you know where Lolita is?’
Beatrice nodded, but she studied him as though not quite sure what to make of his odd behaviour. ‘She’s at Melinda’s house.’
Her best friend. So why did the ‘feeling’ in his belly only intensify? He dragged a hand over his face, weary beyond his years. ‘Are you sure about that?’
His housekeeper blinked, clearly affronted by his sudden lack of confidence. ‘I didn’t tail her, if that’s what you’re suggesting?’
He shook his head. ‘Sorry Beatrice, of course not. It’s … been a long day.’
Beatrice’s round stare softened a little. ‘You work too hard. I always tell you that but you never listen.’
‘What can I say, I’m a slow learner.�
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She smiled at that. ‘One thing you’ve never been accused of is being a slow learner.’ She straightened a little, as though becoming aware of the urgency behind his chitchat. ‘Would you like me to make some phone calls to Brisbane?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, if you wouldn’t mind getting hold of my PA and asking her to deal with anything that needs to be done with the new restaurant, that would be great. I need to find my sister.’
If Beatrice was surprised by the sudden neglect of his business and interest in his sister, she didn’t say so. Instead she nodded approval, before turning away to make use of the house phone.
Jessie stepped out onto his expansive patio, watching the sun breach the far horizon while on the harbour, ferries and yachts moved across the sparkling water. He breathed deep of the crisp, salt-laden air, taking a moment to compose himself before pressing speed dial on his mobile.
The call went straight to voicemail, and he waited for the beep before leaving a message. ‘Lollie, I’m home. Ring me back as soon as you get this message. It’s urgent.’
He disconnected, and then tucked the phone back into his pocket, before staring unseeingly at the views spread out before him as though a postcard.
He couldn’t simply sit idly by and wait for his sister to call him back. She might never make the phone call. He might never see her again.
He took out his phone again, riffled through his list of contacts and dialled Melinda’s phone number. He waited impatiently as it connected and then rang through.
Melinda’s just-woken voice cracked out a ‘hello’ at the other end.
‘Hi Melinda, it’s Jessie. Sorry to wake you. Is Lolita there? I really need to talk to her.’
Melinda’s long pause seemed deafening. ‘You … you do?’
‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat to keep back a swelling of emotion. ‘It’s urgent.’
‘I’m sorry. She’s not here.’
He used every bit of his willpower not to scream and yell into his phone. ‘Do you know where she is?’
‘Um, yes. Though I don’t think she wanted you to know.’
Hardness edged his voice. ‘I’d make me an exception if I were you.’