by Kate Swain
I put my foot on the pedal and drove back to the house.
When we got there, I made lunch – hoping that Lucas would be distracted and wouldn’t ask too many questions. He seemed content, for the moment, to make sandwiches with me and not to focus too much on where Tessa might be or what might have happened.
When he was settled down and eating, I went out of the room to make a call to her. I really was worried – what if she had been badly ill? Was she hospitalized? I didn’t even know.
I heard her phone give the signal that it was on hold. I shook my head. What was going on. I waited until I was diverted to her mailbox and left a message. Then I hung up.
When I went back into the kitchen, Lucas was looking up at me, big gray eyes worried.
“Is Tessa okay?”
I swallowed hard. I should know by now that my son is impossible to fool. Of course, he would be able to hear me calling her and putting a message in the voice-mail. He is surprisingly alert to his surroundings, and, as I well know, especially keyed into losing people.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure she’s fine. When I hear more about her, I’ll let you know.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He resumed eating, but I could tell he was disturbed. I was annoyed I hadn’t been more capable of hiding my fears.
Later, I got a call from the mother of one of Lucas’ schoolmates, asking if he would like to come to the house to play with Maxwell, her son. I nodded.
“Sure. Lucas? Want to go over to the Rogerson’s, to play?”
He nodded and I drove him to the house, dropped him off and then considered whether or not to go back to work. I could put in another hour or two and then go and fetch him. I drove there, and decided to stop to pick up pizza for dinner on the way home. When I was stopped in the restaurant – I had gone to the one around the corner from my house, because the one near my work was closed – I noticed somebody leaning on the counter, watching the street. I couldn’t have put a finger on why he unnerved me; he just did.
As I got closer to the front of the queue, nearer to the man who was leaning so confidently on the counter, I overheard something that chilled my blood.
“…so, if you happen to see Tessa Anders, could you let me know?” The man was saying to the woman behind the counter.
She frowned. “Of course, Mister…”
“I’m Keith Preston. I’m a relative of hers.”
“Oh. I see, Mr. Preston. Well, if I hear something, I’ll be sure to let you know.” She took a card from him on which he scribbled his number, and then it was my turn at the counter.
“Margherita, please. A large one,” I said swiftly, not putting any real thought into my order. I was desperate to get it done before Preston – if that was who he really was – decided to leave the place.
He seemed in no particular hurry, and as soon as I’d moved away from the counter, I went over to confront him.
“Mr. Preston?” I said. “Sorry… I couldn’t help overhearing you earlier. You say you’re looking for someone?”
The man looked up at me and I felt myself shiver as his eyes moved over me. He had an assessing, weighty gaze that seemed to consider everything about me, then decide to look through me. I had never been confronted with such a person before. I took an instinctive step back.
“Yes,” he said after a moment. “I am. Wouldn’t know a Tessa Anders, would you?” His gaze challenged me.
“Why?” I asked.
His brow went up, as if nobody he’d spoken to before had answered him bluntly. He shrugged, and then he smiled. The smile chilled me to the marrow. It was a nasty, cruel thing; the sort of smile I would imagine a killer would have.
“We have unfinished business,” he said.
“Oh.” I felt shaken, but I took a step back, trying to compose myself. “Well, as it happens,” I said in the lightest tone I could muster. “I think she left town last week.”
“Oh?” the man frowned, as if this was news worth hearing. I hoped I was fooling him. I took a deep breath.
“Yeah,” I said, trying my best for an easy manner. “I heard she won the photo competition,” I added, noticing that he had the paper out, turned to the page with Tessa’s picture on it. “And then she moved out of town. She was only here for a while, I think. Just passing through.” I shrugged, as if I didn’t really know her.
“I see,” he said. He nodded slowly, taking this information on board. I felt my stomach twist and I fought a real need to run out of the restaurant and never come in here again. “Thanks.”
I shrugged. “No worries.”
I watched him walk confidently over to the door and then leave. At that moment, fortunately, just as I was considering how foolhardy it might be to pursue him, I was called over to the counter.
“Your order, Mr. Brand.”
“Thanks,” I said, doing my best to give the woman behind the counter a smile. I paid for it and walked out. Then I got into my car and drove home as fast as I could.
“Tessa?” I said, calling her again. “Tessa? Answer me please! What is going on?”
I didn’t get through to her, but I left a message, praying she would reply to me. She was in danger. I had no idea whether she knew or not. I just had to warn her! The memory of that guy stayed with me. He had been more frightening than anything I could imagine. I had never seen a truly dangerous person before, but something told me that was a truly dangerous person.
“What the hell happened to her?”
I sank down the wall, unable to believe how blind I had been, how stupid! I had sent that photo to the paper, I had put her name on it. I had written an invitation to the people looking for her. I had known there was something strange about her circumstances – she was always evasive, when I asked her about her past. I hadn’t guessed! It had been written so plainly for me to read, but I had not seen it.
I lifted my head to check the time, my responsibilities calling me back to the present moment. I had to go and fetch Lucas. I jumped in the car and drove the three blocks, unable to think about anything except Tessa and why the guy had been asking about her.
Lucas seemed somewhat reluctant to leave when I came in to fetch him. I drove back, trying to look as if nothing was on my mind. I knew Lucas well and I knew that he would be aware of my distress. He always was.
“Daddy?” he asked as we stopped at the house. “Is Tessa going to come to our house tomorrow?”
I swallowed hard. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t know where she was, what was wrong with her, or how many days she was likely to be off. I made my tone lighter than I felt.
“I don’t know, son. I think so.”
“Oh.” Lucas didn’t say anything, which made me even more worried. Usually he was such a talkative little boy that it was impossible to quieten him down once he got started. I stopped at the house, hating the way he got out and walked so silently into the flat. It was as if he was three years old again and losing his mother – he was as withdrawn, as curled in on himself.
“Tessa, damn it!” I swore under my breath. She had become so important to Lucas in such a short time, and now she just disappeared, like her responsibility didn’t matter? I felt angry. She had been a special person for him, and losing people was his biggest fear.
I went up to the apartment and started putting things out for dinner. I knew Lucas was in the living room, curled up and silent. In that moment, when I saw him through the door, so dejected, I felt a bright surge of anger for Tessa, that was almost as swiftly gone.
Somebody was hunting her.
“It’s my fault.”
I could have cried. I didn’t because I knew Lucas would be distressed and then he would feel worse, not better. Instead, I took a deep breath and went to the door to call him for supper.
“Dinner’s ready.”
“Good.”
Lucas barely looked up, just got up from where he had curled up in the half-dark side of the living room and came and sat at the kitchen table. I had hesit
ated when I put out our plates, not sure whether I should set things differently so that Tessa’s absence wasn’t so apparent. In the end, I’d left things as they were. It was less disruptive.
I was very aware of the empty seat opposite me. So, I think, was Lucas. He barely looked up. It was like he was trying to pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened; so that if he just didn’t acknowledge the empty space at the table, it wouldn’t exist.
I finished my supper in silence, getting up moodily to wash dishes. I knew my anger was affecting Lucas, but I didn’t know how to hold it in. I felt so helpless! The fear for Tessa was almost as strong as my anger at her, and the horror of discovering she was on the run from… what?
“I’m phoning Mark,” I said, almost to myself. Lucas heard me. The glint in his eyes made me wish I’d thought much earlier of calling my resourceful brother over. I recalled how often he had supported Lucas and me when we needed it – during the deepest part of my grief, Mark had been there for Lucas, filling my role until I was fully ready to be present again.
“Hello?” I said.
“Matt!” Mark’s voice sounded muffled. I guessed I had called him in the middle of his dinner, too, and I felt bad about it. “How are you? Things alright?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean…” I hated to say it, but I had to. There was stuff here I couldn’t deal with on my own. “Mark,” I asked cautiously. “Could you come over, please?”
“Of course.” My brother’s reply was unhesitating. “Give me a moment to get the car out… I’ll drive over there right now.”
“Mark,” I paused. “It’s not that urgent. I mean, I don’t want to interrupt your time with Slade…”
“It’s okay,” Mark replied. “It won’t be too long, and he’ll see me all night. Actually, I hope he’s asleep all night so he doesn’t see me.”
I had to laugh. I was so grateful for Mark suddenly. No matter how bad my life was, he could always make me feel happy, even for an instant. “Thanks,” I said. “See you in a minute or two. And I hope your son sleeps well.”
“So do I.”
I was laughing as I hung up. When I looked back across the table, Lucas was watching me.
“Is Mark coming?”
“Yes,” I promised. “He’ll be here at any moment. Let’s tidy things up, hey?” I added, noticing that Lucas had actually eaten some dinner while I was on the phone. Thinking about Mark arriving had clearly cheered him up. I felt bad for not thinking of it sooner. I felt bad for letting Lucas down. I felt bad for letting Tessa’s pursuers know where she was.
I was just a mess.
When my brother opened the door unceremoniously, I was putting the dishes in the cupboard. I didn’t know he was there until Lucas ran to the hallway. I heard his excited voice, greeting his uncle.
“Mark! You’re here! We haven’t seen you for ages!”
I grinned to myself. Last time Mark was here was two weeks ago. It did feel like ages, I had to agree. I went to greet him, and found my son hanging around his neck, while Mark swung him around.
“Daddy! Look who arrived!”
I smiled as my brother put my son down carefully on the floor, and he ran into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I followed him in, going to make coffee for Mark and I. While I fixed it up, reaching up to find his special mug, I could hear him chatting to Lucas, asking him about the arm and how much better it was.
“Maybe you can go and fetch your new Lego figures to show me?” he asked, and Lucas sprang out of the seat to run off and fetch his latest interest. When he had gone, my brother addressed me. “So, what’s up?” he asked.
I sighed. “Tessa’s gone away. I don’t know where. She texted me to tell me she was sick, and now she’s just disappeared.” I put my hand through my hair, making a fist.
“You called her?” he asked. I made a face.
“Mark… you don’t think much of me, do you? Of course, I called! She didn’t answer.”
“I see.” Mark frowned. “Matt, you don’t know much about her past, do you?”
I fixed him with a level stare. Trust my brother to get straight to the heart of things. He was right. “That’s what worries me,” I said. “I don’t know anything.”
“You think she might have run off?” Mark asked, stirring sugar into his coffee. He was looking out of the window, a distant, distracted look on his face. I cleared my throat.
“I don’t know, Mark,” I said slowly. “I don’t know what to think. I’d have thought the situation with me had put her off, but today…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say.
“What happened?” Mark asked, taking a big sip of his coffee. He drank a lot of coffee.
“I was in the pizza restaurant – the one down the road from this apartment, about an hour ago. I heard this guy. He was asking after Tessa. Looking for her.”
Mark frowned. “Did you say anything?” he asked.
“I didn’t.” I paused, taking a sip of my own coffee. “I mean, I didn’t tell him anything true. I told him I thought she left town.”
“Good,” Mark nodded, clearly pleased by what I’d done. “This guy…” He paused.
“Looked like a killer.” I spoke softly, aware that my son had a habit of listening to adult conversations, wanting to gain information. I didn’t want him to worry. I was worried.
“Hell.” My brother put down his coffee cup, looking up at me with a worried blue stare, a shade darker than my own. “That sounds serious.”
“Mark, he had the paper. Remember, the one where I entered her photo? It’s how he found her.” I put my hands on my face, about to cry. I couldn’t hold back my shock at my own guilt. Not anymore.
“You did the right thing,” he told me slowly. “You meant to help her, Mark. It’s not your fault that there was somebody bad chasing her. She never told you anything about her. What happened has nothing to do with you.”
“Thanks.”
I wanted him to be right, but in my heart I still felt a sense of responsibility. I had no right to send away one of her photos without asking anything. I didn’t have a right to intercede and send her photos anywhere. It was a stupid thing to do: well-meaning, but stupid. I should know better than interfering.
“Okay,” I sighed. “I did something dumb. But the point is, how can we help now?”
Mark frowned. “I don’t know. Do you know where she lives?”
I shook my head, feeling utterly stupid. “I know which street, but I have no idea exactly where.”
“Well, then,” Mark grinned. “We can investigate. Let’s go there tomorrow. If we ask around, we might even be able to find the right apartment block.”
“Okay,” I nodded slowly. I had limited excitement about our safety – not when another man was already on the trail – but I had to try.
Whatever danger I might be in, I didn’t want to think about what might happen to her.
23
Tessa
I rolled over on the spare bed in Laney’s apartment. My head was sore and I felt a sudden clutching nausea in the depths of me. I sat up, hoping it would go away, but it only got worse. I wanted to be sick.
“Damn it,” I groaned, getting to my feet and grabbing a shirt to wrap around myself. I swore under my breath, wondering what the heck had made me get a feeling of a hangover, when I hadn’t actually had a drink for ages.
I swayed a little as I got dressed, feeling more sick with every moment on my feet. I heard Laney stirring and I managed to run to the bathroom just before I was sick and keeled over.
I leaned against the door, eyes closed, chest rising. I felt slightly better now that I had been sick, but I was more weary now. And I felt worried.
“What is this?”
I cleaned myself up and then walked through to the bed, sitting down heavily. Laney was singing as she brushed her hair and made the bed. I ran my fingers through my red hair. What was wrong with me?
I reached for my phone, and when I plugged it in – the batteries
were flat – I groaned. There were about ten messages on it, all of them from Matt.
“Where are you?” I read. “Are you okay? So worried.” I wanted to cry. “Please, Tessa. Take my call,” I read. It was too much for me. I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I was not at work and I should be. I knew that I was on the other side of town. I had let him down.
I shut my eyes. I was too tired to do anything – I felt awfully sick and I didn’t even want to eat breakfast, never mind call my employer and try to explain I was going to be away for quite some time. I was aware that I was letting him down and I just had no idea what to say.
“Tessa?” Laney called, coming in with a towel wrapped around her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I groaned. “Just a bit sick.”
“Oh. Hell.” Laney frowned. “Want me to call someone?” She reached up to pat her hair dry. She had to be at work in half an hour – she had a job with a local company and I understood they kept very firm workdays.
“No, don’t worry,” I said, gritting my teeth to keep myself from groaning about the pain. “I’m fine.”
“Well, you have my number, just in case,” she said, walking through to her bedroom, where I could see her drying her hair and plugging in the hair-dryer. “I’ll put the doctor’s number by the phone too. Helpful guy – whatever it is, don’t hesitate to ask him.”
“Thanks,” I nodded. I didn’t know if I could make it to the doctor’s without throwing up – the thought of breakfast was making my stomach twist nauseatingly.
When Laney had departed a few moments later, I made myself get dressed and go through to the kitchen. I drank coffee and made toast, but as I sat down to eat it, the scent of it twisted my stomach and I ran to the bathroom.
“Damn it,” I groaned, leaning back against the cupboard, my stomach aching. I felt weak. What the heck was this? I wasn’t sick – at least I had no fever. And it absolutely was not from drinking too much. What was it?
A small thought suddenly insinuated itself into my mind. I had been with Matt, and I hadn’t used protection.