“I didn’t take you for a coward,” he muttered, angry because he wasn’t going to force himself into her life, he wasn’t going to demand what she wasn’t willing to give.
But he didn’t want to walk away from her.
She stared into his eyes, but she didn’t speak, and when he’d given her enough time to say something that would change things, he scowled. “If you’re ready to go home, I’ll drive you there.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” she said quietly.
“No. You don’t want to be hurt.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
She followed silently.
When they reached the SUV, he held her door while she climbed in, but he didn’t bother speaking. He’d said everything he could.
The rest was up to her.
ELEVEN
The thing about loneliness was that it hurt if you let it. In the years since she’d left Napa Valley, Tessa had worked hard not to let it. She’d taught herself to enjoy silence, to revel in walking into the empty cottage, and to find comfort in her own company.
Things had been going great until she’d met Henry and his family.
Now she dreaded the hours after work. Returning home after her evening class was even worse. She’d finally taken the makeup exam she’d been studying for, and despite all the distractions, she felt like it had gone well.
There was no one to share the news with.
Class ended at ten. The drive back to her place took nearly an hour and a half. By the time she pulled up to the cottage, everyone she knew whom she could share with was asleep.
And the one person she wanted to share with had left Provincetown the previous day.
She frowned.
She shouldn’t be so tempted to call Henry.
She also shouldn’t have checked her phone sixteen times to see if he’d contacted her.
She’d made it clear that she’d wanted nothing from him. She had played it safe, because that had made more sense than taking a chance on something as inconsequential as a romantic relationship.
But she hadn’t been able to forget the taste of his lips, the gentleness of his touch or the heartache she’d felt when he’d turned and walked away.
Without even realizing it was happening, Henry had taken up residence in her heart.
She’d been too cowardly to let him stay there.
Three nights after telling him they should keep their lives separate, she was still trying to convince herself she’d done the right thing.
He deserved someone better than her, someone who didn’t have baggage filled with the deadweight of her abusive relationship.
But she missed hearing his voice, seeing his smile and watching as he interacted with the girls.
According to Chief Simpson, Henry and Jessica had returned to Boston on Sunday afternoon. Aside from the kidnapping, the crimes perpetrated against Tessa were the jurisdiction of local law officials. The Provincetown police were conducting the investigation, but the FBI was still willing to help if it was necessary. Chief Simpson had made it very clear to Tessa that he didn’t think it was. He was working with the state police, the California Highway Patrol and the Thai military police to try to locate Patrick. Sheila had been cooperating, but she hadn’t heard from her husband in nearly a week, and she had no idea what part of Thailand he was in.
Chief Simpson suspected he’d gotten wind of what was happening in the States and was keeping a low profile. He also suspected that Patrick might never resurface. He’d had plenty of money when he’d left the United States. He’d been the sole beneficiary of Ryan’s interest in the antiques stores, and he’d liquidated nearly a million dollars’ worth of inventory before he’d left the country. None of that money had appeared in the business accounts. The police believed Patrick had syphoned it into offshore accounts, and that when he’d booked his trip overseas, he’d had no intention of returning.
Tessa hoped that was the case.
The farther away he stayed, the safer she’d feel.
She shivered as she pulled up to the cottage.
She’d left the porch light on, and she could see the living-room light behind the curtains in the front windows. The cottage looked the same as it did every time she returned to it. Usually, she felt elated to be walking into her own place. Since Friday evening, she’d felt nothing but tired.
She grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat and walked across the yard, her keys in hand, a hard knot in her stomach.
She’d wanted so much more than this.
She’d wanted all the little things that other people often took for granted—kids running to greet her when she opened the door, dishes in the kitchen sink, pets creating chaos, the television turned on, lights left burning when no one was in the room. She’d wanted broken dishes and Lego on the floor and piles of laundry waiting to be washed or folded. She’d wanted a messy life with messy people who laughed too loudly and sang off-key.
More than anything, she’d just wanted to love and to be loved. She had wanted to look into someone else’s heart and know she would always have a home there.
She shoved her keys in the doorknob and unlocked it, stepping inside and dropping her backpack on the floor.
Her cell phone rang, and she grabbed it, her heart leaping as she checked to see if it was Henry. Every day for three days, she’d hoped he’d call. Every day, he hadn’t.
She could have called him. She knew that.
She should have.
But she was terrified of being vulnerable. Even with someone as trustworthy as Henry.
It was a local number, and she answered quickly, thinking it might be someone from the police department giving her an update on the case.
“Hello?”
“Tessa?” a little girl said.
“Aria?” she asked, glancing at the number again. She had Rachelle and Brett’s cell phone numbers. She had their home number, too. This wasn’t any of those.
“I did something really bad,” she whispered.
“You never do anything bad, honey,” Tessa responded.
“This time, I did. And I’m really sorry. I really am.” She was obviously crying, and Tessa’s heart broke for her.
“Where’s your daddy, sweetheart?” she asked.
“He had to work on a big case.”
“What about your Nana or Pop-pop?”
“Watching television, so they don’t know I’m gone.”
“Gone?” Tessa went cold at the word, a dozen scenarios filling her head. None of them good. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“We were coming to see you. He promised, because I missed you.”
“You and Everly?”
“No, me and the man who was cleaning school today.”
“What man?” But she knew.
Of course, she knew.
Patrick didn’t like to lose.
“He was cleaning the school, and me and Everly saw him in the hall when we were going to the bathroom. He said we looked sad, and I told him that was because I really missed you, and he said he knew you, and he even knew that you have a scar and where you live and everything.”
“You’re not with him, are you, Aria?” She tried to keep her voice calm, but she knew panic was seeping through. She managed to put the call on speaker and find Henry’s number.
She shot him a text, her fingers trembling, her heart pulsing in her ears.
“Aria?” she prodded.
“Guess again,” Patrick said, his voice as silky and dry as a viper’s hiss.
“What do you want, Patrick?” she asked, praying that Henry would respond to her text.
“You know what I want.”
“The watch is evidence in the investigation against you. The police have it.”
“I don’t need a watch, you little idiot. I have
more than enough money to keep me floating for a very long time.”
“Then, what?”
“You. Me. Back the way it used to be.” He chuckled.
“You’re married.”
“And?”
“I’m sure Sheila won’t want to share you with someone else,” she said as she stared at the phone and willed Henry to respond.
“Sheila was a means to an end.”
“What end?”
“The two of us flying off to another country and living happily-ever-after. It takes money to do that, babe, and Sheila had millions of dollars of life insurance on my dearly departed business partner.”
“You don’t want me, Patrick. You never did.”
“Men always want what they don’t have. I was bored with you for a while, but I’m ready to pick up where we left off.”
“You’re lying.” She raced to the landline and dialed 911, praying he wouldn’t be able to hear the operator. She didn’t dare speak or ask for help. She set the receiver on the kitchen counter and walked to the mudroom doorway, hoping her side of the conversation would reach the operator’s ears.
“Maybe, but what does that matter? I’ve got the kid. You want her. We’ll do an exchange.”
“I already told you, I don’t have the watch.”
“I don’t need the watch. The police already have that idiot Justin in custody. They’ve got the guy he hired, too.”
“Tom Banning?”
“I don’t ask names. I just ask if jobs are done.”
“What job?”
“I wanted the watch. Aside from Justin it was the only thing linking me to Ryan’s murder. Justin needed a distraction so that he could get in your place and look for it.”
“You had someone nearly burn down a diner because you needed a distraction?” she asked.
“I didn’t need it. Justin said it would make his job easier. I needed Justin. At least until the job was done. So, I did what needed to be done to keep him happy.”
“You just sat back and watched the show, huh?”
“We were together for nine years, and you never figured out that I don’t like to get my hands dirty?” he said, chuckling.
“You’re insane.”
“I’m smart. I know what I want. I go after it. I don’t let people get in my way, and I don’t leave loose ends. Poor Justin is going to meet a painful end while he’s waiting for trial, and his bozo Banning is going to, as well. Of course, all that will happen after I’m out of reach of the authorities.”
“I was told you were in Thailand. If you’d stayed there, you wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Money buys a lot of things. Even a look-alike to take your identification and hop on a plane to another country. You know that. You purchased an entirely new life with what you stole from me. Right, Tessa?”
“I didn’t use any of your money or antiques to fund my new life. I pawned my jewelry.”
“That jewelry was mine. You were mine. Everything we had together was mine!” he roared, and she thought she heard Aria sobbing in the background.
“What do you want, Patrick?” she said. “Tell me straight-up, because I’m not as smart as you, and I can’t be expected to figure it out.”
“Stop with the false humility, baby. We both know you are plenty smart. That was the problem. You should have been a pretty face and an empty head,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and hatred.
“What do you want?” she repeated.
“A fair exchange. You for the kid.”
“Okay.”
“Just like that? You’re not going to ask what I plan to do once I have you?”
“Me for Aria, but I’m not going anywhere with you until I’m certain she’s safe.”
“You will do exactly what I say, or you’ll both die.”
“Then, how about you start talking and say something that matters? Because, I would like to get this over with,” she responded, knowing her flip tone would annoy him. She wanted to keep him talking. She wanted the 911 operator to hear as much as possible.
“You’d better keep that smart mouth in check. I don’t make it a habit of killing kids, but I’ll make an exception this time, if I have to.”
“I didn’t realize you made it a habit of killing,” she said, opening a drawer and grabbing a paring knife. She tucked it into her boot.
“You should have asked more questions when we were dating. My parents died in an unfortunate accident when I was eighteen. My grandfather died a few months later. And I inherited everything.”
“You killed them?”
“I prefer to say that I sent them off on their final adventure before they were ready. Now, how about you stop wasting my time, and we get down to business. I’ll be at Pilgrim Monument in an hour. I suggest you arrive before me.”
“I’ll be there.”
“No car. It’s only five miles from your place. An easy walk. No cell phone, either. You bring either of those things, and your boyfriend won’t ever see his daughter again. If the police show up, same thing. Come alone. And in case your insipid little brain doesn’t understand what that means, I don’t want anyone with you. Not your boss. Not your neighbor. Not even your best friend’s puppy.”
“All right.”
“Of course it is,” he crooned. “You know, I’ve really missed how agreeable you learned to be. Maybe we can get back to that. Eventually.”
He disconnected, and she hurried to the landline and lifted it. The call had disconnected.
Or, maybe, it had never gone through.
She thought about calling again, but she was afraid the police would head to the monument, lights and sirens blaring.
If Aria died, she’d never forgive herself.
She called Henry, and when he didn’t pick up, she left a brief message. She didn’t have time for more than that. The monument was a forty-minute walk from the house.
She was certain Patrick knew that.
If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late.
He had always hated when people were late.
And he had always loved setting her up to fail.
He’d loved to watch her struggle, and he’d loved meting out punishments.
This time, though, she wouldn’t fail.
She couldn’t.
Aria’s life depended on that.
* * *
He was driving too fast. Henry knew it, but he couldn’t make himself ease off the accelerator.
They were ten minutes away from the monument.
Tessa’s message had been left thirty minutes ago.
He’d tried to return her call, but he’d reached her voice mail. He’d retried a half-dozen times since then, franticly, desperately.
Aria was gone.
And he wouldn’t even know that if Tessa hadn’t told him.
He’d been tying up some loose ends on a case he was closing, immersing himself in work because that was easier than being at home, fielding questions about why the girls couldn’t call their best friend, Tessa. Why they hadn’t been able to see her on the weekend. When they would be able to visit her again.
He hadn’t had the heart to tell them that they wouldn’t be seeing her, that he planned to stay as far away from the Cape as possible for a while. Not because he didn’t care about Tessa, but because he cared too much.
He wanted her to be happy.
Whether that meant alone or with him.
The girls were too young to understand that, and they were too young to not get attached to a woman who showered them with affection and attention.
He had always understood the hole Diane had left in his life and in the lives of her parents, but he hadn’t realized how much of a hole she’d left in the twins’ lives until Tessa had begun to fill it.
He didn’t
want them to be hurt.
He didn’t want Tessa to be hurt.
Time seemed like the best solution to a problem he wasn’t sure how to fix, but while he’d been working late at the office, Aria had snuck out of Brett and Rachelle’s Boston townhome. She’d left a note on her pillow, sworn her sister to secrecy and climbed out a lower-level window to meet a man who’d promised to take her to visit Tessa.
He’d warned the girls about strangers.
He’d told them to never go off with one.
But according to Everly, the man wasn’t a stranger. He was a janitor at school. One who’d known everything about Tessa, who’d described her house, Provincetown and even the church they attended. He’d told the girls that he could take them to visit Tessa, but it had to be a secret, because otherwise their grandparents would ruin things.
He’d given them a time, told them to climb out a window and sneak to his car. He’d even promised to bring everyone for dinner once they’d reached Provincetown.
Everly had been eager to go along with the plan until the last minute. She’d helped Aria remove a screen from a living-room window, and then she’d chickened out.
At least, that’s how she’d described it to Henry.
It had been Aria, his timid child, who’d followed through.
And now she was gone, kidnapped by a man who’d had his business partner killed for profit.
“You should probably slow down,” Jessica said calmly as he sped away from the Provincetown Municipal Airport. Thanks to Wren’s connections, they’d been able to fly in on a chartered jet, the twenty-minute flight from Boston seeming to last an eternity.
“You probably should,” Wren agreed. “We rented a car so that Patrick wouldn’t recognize the vehicle. If you’re flying along the road in a rented vehicle, he might get suspicious.”
She was right.
He forced himself to slow down. He could see the monument in the distance, glowing white against the clear black sky. “Have you tried Tessa again?” he asked.
“Only five times since we disembarked from the plane. My calls are going straight to voice mail.”
Lone Witness Page 16