Pledged To Protect Complete Box Set: Three Romantic Suspense Romances

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Pledged To Protect Complete Box Set: Three Romantic Suspense Romances Page 64

by Vella Day


  Roger dropped an order at the pick up window and buzzed one of the waitresses.

  Once Mick returned to chopping the celery, the kitchen seemed to return to normal. They didn’t need her around to distract them. It was only ten p.m., but maybe she’d call it an early night and take Mandy home. The baby’s cold seemed to be worsening.

  Dom had wanted to rush to Tessa’s aid the second the drunk grabbed her, but the moment he’d pushed back his chair, Charley had come lumbering out of the kitchen and attacked the guy.

  After Dickman, or Dirkman, or whoever he was, stalked off, Tessa ran into the kitchen for a few minutes, and then ducked into what he guessed was her office. She’d been in there for quite a long time. For he knew, she’d snuck out a back entrance he didn’t know existed.

  Hell. What was he doing here anyway? He’d found out a lot in this one visit. Perhaps he’d better come back tomorrow when Tessa might be more willing to answer some questions. Tonight was not a good time for her.

  As he stood to leave, the object of his interest slipped out of the back room with a tiny baby in her arms, and his gut clenched at the tender sight. The way she held the fussy baby and the slight stain in her cheeks, stirred emotions he’d truly believed long dead—empathy and caring. The last person he’d tried to protect had been his brother, and look where that had gotten him?

  Charley hustled over to her. The huge amount of concern from the big man didn’t seem to fit with Dom’s impression of the giant. Was there something between them? Tessa was well educated, whereas Charley seemed...what? Coarse and crude?

  Hell, who was he to talk? He only had a two-year degree, hadn’t read a fiction book in years, and had never traveled out of the country. From the classy way Tessa spoke, he’d bet she’d done all of the above many times.

  When Tessa leaned close to her bartender and whispered something to him, Dom’s blood pulsed. He didn’t like those two together for some reason. Call it gut instinct.

  Charley nodded and Tessa scurried out the front door, not talking to anyone.

  Dom threw another twenty on the bar to cover his half-eaten dinner. Worried about her safety, he followed her out, careful to remain unnoticed.

  Was Tessa in trouble? Is that why she’d been so nervous when he’d asked her the simple questions about Keri Wilkerson? Something was going on with her—something bad.

  Mandy wasn’t just a little sick, her pale skin and shallow breathing convinced Tessa Mandy was a lot sick. The baby was cold, then hot, and then cold again. How had Tessa believed she could care for a six-month old child?

  She’d called her friend, Annie, for advice. Not only did her friend have two little kids of her own, she ran the women’s shelter. She dealt with sick families all the time.

  Bathe her in cold water, give her a children’s Tylenol and put her to bed, Annie had advised. If the baby wasn’t better by morning, take her to the hospital.

  Hospital? No way. Not if she could help it. Tessa hated that place. Only sick people went there. It was a stupid thought, but right now she wasn’t in the mood for logic.

  Fear had a hold on her and wouldn’t let go—fear for Mandy, fear Ralph might find her, fear that... hell, she didn’t know what to call it. Just plain fear.

  If only her mom hadn’t run off with another man when Tessa was twelve, she might not be in this mess. How was a girl supposed to learn motherly things without a mother? Not from her dad. He was clueless. Still was when it came to giving advice about anything other than how to run a restaurant, he was great.

  Tessa stepped outside to a miserably rainy night and sheltered Mandy from the elements the best she could. The dampness made the all ready cool air, colder.

  She quickly scanned the parking lot as she approached her car, checking for any strange person waiting to attack. Tessa couldn’t get the photo of Keri out of her mind. Had the dead woman’s husband followed her from the Blue Moon before he murdered her a few miles away? Or was a homicidal maniac on the loose?

  A woman couldn’t be too careful, especially at night—alone—in a secluded parking lot. It didn’t matter the lot was mostly full. A shiver snaked through her. The parking lot definitely needed more light.

  She unlocked her car door and immediately checked the backseat before strapping in Mandy. She’d seen too many movies where the villain hid in the back and attacked the woman from behind.

  Tessa finally admitted it. Her nerves were shot and had been for days. Over the last three days, the number of hours of sleep she’d had was in the single digits. Her mind wasn’t able to function normally anymore.

  Her restlessness had begun the moment the detective had asked her about Keri. Seeing Detective Rossi brought back bad memories—memories of Ralph. If only she hadn’t caught her ex accepting a bribe, she might not be hiding in a town far away from Colorado.

  Mandy sent out a wail, and Tessa looked down at the water stained seat. Dampness seeped through the back of her shirt and rain had splattered on the child. Dear Lord. How long had she been standing there getting soaked?

  “Shh. Take it easy, sweetheart. Aunt Tess will get you home and take care of you.”

  She slipped in the driver’s seat determined to focus only on her niece. She tapped her heels against the metal edge of the doorframe to remove the clumps of mud dangling from her soles before swinging her legs into position.

  After shutting the door, and locking it, she cranked the key. The engine turned over in protest, and when it threatened to die on her, Tessa had to pump the gas pedal until the engine stopped chugging. Being in debt sucked.

  As she pulled out of the lot, a car pulled in. For a second, the driver looked like Ralph, but then she decided it couldn’t be. Her imagination was out of control.

  Focus on the road and getting home and not on Ralph.

  Gandy Boulevard had fairly heavy traffic for a Saturday night. Good. Lots of cars gave her a sense of security. Four lane roads didn’t bother her; it was the two-lane, unlit streets that caused goose bumps to tickle her arms.

  As she headed to her small rental house, she sensed someone was following her, yet when Tessa peered into the rearview mirror, all she saw were headlights. How did anyone distinguish one car from another?

  Mandy fussed and Tessa pressed her foot to the accelerator.

  Less than twenty minutes later, she pulled into her driveway. The dead end street appeared to be deserted. Neither of her neighbors’ lights was on, disturbing her a little. Glenda, the busybody across the street, was always home. Maybe she’d finally gone to her daughter’s in Michigan like she said she'd been meaning to do.

  Tessa snatched Mandy from the back seat and hustled into her house then flicked on every light in the place. The only reason she’d rented the dump was because utilities were included in the rent. Wouldn’t the slumlord get a big surprise this month when he saw the bill?

  A clap of thunder came out of nowhere, jump-starting Tessa’s heart, and Mandy began to cry.

  A second later the lights went out.

  4

  When the phone rang, Dom pulled the pillow over his head, refusing to answer it. It was six in the morning on a Sunday, for God’s sake, his day off.

  The phone continued to whine. “All right, already.” He took a peek at the number. Yup. He’d guessed right. The station was calling. Hell, he was still working the Keri Wilkerson case and didn’t need any more distractions. Sure they were perpetually short-handed, but did the Force have to dump yet another case on him?

  Dom gave up any hope of sleep and answered with a less than civil tone. “What?”

  “Hi, sleepy head. Phil, here. I thought you’d want to know. This morning, a paper boy spotted a wheelchair-bound man with his throat slit.”

  “Where?” He knew he couldn’t say no if he was needed.

  “Indian Rocks Beach.”

  He slumped back onto his mattress. “Good. It’s out of our jurisdiction.”

  He’d been about to hang up when Phil continued. “I know,
but Anderson heard the call on the scanner on his way into work this morning. Does the name Redman ring a bell?”

  Dom shot up to a sitting position. “Any relation to—”

  “Yeah, it’s Tessa’s dad. That’s why I thought you might want to use your day off to check it out.”

  He scratched his stubbled cheek. “Are you thinking there’s a relationship between this and the Wilkerson case?” Or had his partner guessed Tessa Redman intrigued him?

  “I know it’s a long shot, but both are related to the Blue Moon in some way.”

  “You might be right. Give me his address.” Dom reached over to his side table, grabbed his pad and favorite Cross pen and took down the information. “I’ll be in touch.” He hung up.

  Wow. Tessa’s dad was dead. How horrible for her. His first instinct was to comfort her, but he quickly decided he wasn’t any good with the living—only the dead. Tears and sadness were sledgehammers to the rock façade he’d carefully erected over his heart.

  Dom slipped on a pair of jeans and his Save the Whales T-shirt he’d gotten when he donated blood. Crime scenes tended to be messy.

  Since he didn’t want to waste time grinding beans and brewing a cup of java, a drive-thru would suffice.

  After waiting in a short line, he scarfed down an egg and sausage croissant as he headed over to the Gulf side. Boy did the greasy fare taste good. Without thinking, he pinched his stomach to see if the fat he’d just eaten had caused any damage. Not yet, but it would soon if he didn’t watch his eating habits.

  As he drove across the water, the big, yellow sun sent colored streaks across the Bay. He’d forgotten the beauty of the drive, but he didn’t have the luxury right now to soak in its serenity.

  Once he crossed the bridge, Dom turned onto Indian Rock’s road and found Dan Redman’s place with ease. The entire Indian Rocks police force appeared to be there. He pulled in behind one of the cruisers and jumped out. He held out his badge as he approached.

  He recognized one of the men. “Hiya, Jack.”

  “Rossi. What brings you to our side of the Bay?”

  “Another one of my cases might be connected to yours.”

  Jack shouted over to one of the officers. “Hey, be careful with the window. Don’t smudge the panes. We might get prints.” He shook his head. “Rookies.”

  “I hear ya. Say, would you mind if I have a look around? The deceased’s daughter is of interest to me.” That came out lame, but he decided not to clarify.

  Jack Watters checked his notes. “Tessa Redman?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “We haven’t contacted her yet.”

  Well he wasn’t volunteering. “I think she’ll take this hard.”

  “So you don’t think she’s involved?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “How does this case match up with yours?”

  “Last week we found a woman murdered execution style in her car on Bayshore. She had Tessa’s phone number scribbled in a Blue Moon match cover. That’s where Tessa works.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Kind of weak, huh?"

  “I’d say, but be my guest.” Jack waved him to go in.

  “Thanks.”

  Before Dom could enter, two men popped out of the front door with the body on a gurney. He didn’t need to see her old man in the flesh. A cut throat was a cut throat. And a totally different M.O. from Keri’s murder. Yet he wasn’t so naïve to think killers always murdered in the same fashion. Someone could have done both.

  He stepped into Tessa’s dad’s house and noted the musty smell, and then let the chaos register. Books were strewn on the floor and pictures were smashed. It looked like someone wanted something specific and wasn’t after valuables. The antique clock on the mantle would have brought a pretty penny, and yet it was untouched. Of course, the thief might not have seen the value in antiques. Dom’s mom had loved them.

  “What do you think?” Jack asked as he stepped behind him.

  “Doesn’t look like your typical robbery. I wonder what the guy was after.”

  “Beats me. I had the same gut reaction to the place. I’m hoping forensics can do its job.” He grabbed Dom’s shoulder. “I know it’s our responsibility to tell Ms. Redman about her dad, but it would save us time if you could notify her. It’ll probably be tomorrow before we get a chance to stop by and ask her questions.”

  He’d ask Shelley Armwood. Not only was she an excellent officer, she had a good touch with people. “Sure.”

  Having done all he could, Dom headed back to Tampa. He was halfway across the bridge when his phone vibrated against his leg.

  “Rossi.”

  “Dom, listen,” his partner said. “We got the tox screens back on Keri Wilkerson.”

  “'Bout time.” Dom changed lanes and passed a motorcyclist who seemed more interested in sightseeing than making it across the bridge in a reasonable time.

  “You know as well as I do that Tallahassee is backlogged.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Some things never changed.

  “Get this,” Phil rushed on. “She had a blood alcohol level of—are you ready?”

  And if he weren’t? “Hit me.”

  “.12.”

  “Can we say a little drunk? I’m not surprised though, given she’d found her husband in bed with a guy. Anything else?”

  “Her system had an acceptable level of anti-depressants. That’s all. What did you find out about Tessa’s dad’s death?”

  “Whoever did it made it look like a robbery, but I’m thinking it was murder. No respectable thief would think there was anything of value in the place, so don’t suggest it was kids. One stroke of luck—Jack Watters is lead on the case. I’ll know the results as soon as he gets them.”

  Phil must have put his hand over the receiver for Dom could hear a muffled answer to someone else’s question. “Sorry about that. Say, are you going to talk to Ms. Redman about her dad’s death or leave it to Jack’s people?”

  “I'm going to volunteer Shelley to break it to her.” Dom rolled down the window to breathe in the much-needed refreshing salt air. “She has the gentle touch. I thought it would save Jack’s team some time.”

  “You’re out of luck. Shelley’s on vacation and has been for three days.”

  “Shit.”

  “I guess that means it’s you. I don’t envy you, partner.”

  “Thanks, Phil.” Dom tossed his phone on the seat. Tessa wasn’t going to like seeing him again.

  Tessa had just finished feeding Mandy when someone knocked on her door, and every nerve tensed. No one came to her front door on a Sunday morning. Her nerves were already shot from losing power last night for an hour. Her mind had come up with all sorts of nasty scenarios until the utility company fixed whatever was broken.

  She placed the baby on her hip and lifted the kitchen curtain to check the driveway where a shiny red truck was parked on the street. Tessa leaned more to the left and identified Detective Rossi at her front door.

  Oh God. How had be found out where she lived? Her heart pounded against her ribs. He knocked again. She debated not answering until Mandy let out a wail, no doubt clueing him into the fact she was home. Not only that, her car sitting smack dab in the middle of the driveway.

  “Coming,” she called out. “It’s okay, Mandy.” Tessa gave the baby more formula, hoping to calm her.

  When she pulled open the door, Detective Rossi was running a hand over his neatly trimmed hair, glancing off to the side. “Detective.”

  “Oh, Ms. Redman. I’m sorry to disturb you. May I come in?”

  Could she say, no? “Of course.”

  “I really wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell you, but I’m afraid someone broke into your father’s house last night and—”

  Reflexively, she grabbed his arm. “Is he okay?” Her pulse spiked.

  “I’m afraid not. There’s no gentle way to tell you. He’s dead.”

  Her head swam, and then her knees bu
ckled. Tessa would have crumpled to the ground had his strong arm not wrapped around her waist and caught her and the baby.

  “I gotcha.” He led them to the sofa and slowly lowered her to the seat.

  Mandy fussed. Tessa’s gaze dropped to her brother’s beautiful, alive child. Her father was dead. She choked out a sob. “How? When? I spoke with him yesterday and he was in fine spirits."

  When Detective Rossi handed her a clean handkerchief, Tessa dabbed her eyes, but her vision remained blurred. The tears refused to stop.

  “An intruder broke into his house. We’re not sure of the sequence of events, but the paperboy spotted him this morning. His throat had been, ah, cut.” He glanced downward.

  She sucked in an audible breath, and her already rapid pulse escalated. She feared her heart might break in two. “Did he suffer?”

  “No. The cut looked clean.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Wasn’t she the hostess? At the moment, all she could think about was Dad in his wheelchair trying to defend his property. Why hadn’t he given the criminal what he'd wanted?

  “Yes, thank you. The kitchen’s through there.” She pointed to the archway.

  Tessa tended to Mandy while the detective banged open a few kitchen cabinets, obviously looking for a glass. She was tempted to tell him he’d find it above the sink, but she needed the extra moment of solitude. Why would someone want to harm an old man in a wheelchair?

  Putting on her psychologist’s hat, she ran through the stages of grief as an exercise to gain control. Not that everyone went through these steps in the same order, but Tessa knew she had to shift her focus to the concrete or she’d lose her composure completely.

  She’d zipped through the denial stage and went straight to anger. Mandy squirmed under her clenched fists. “Oh, sorry, Hon.”

  Tessa studied the baby. Mandy had finished her bottle, and her coloring had improved since last night when her fever broke.

 

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