Deadly Valentine (36 page)

"What things?"

His eyes narrowed to slits. "I thought you weren't working for Valentine anymore."

"I'm not. I'm curious." She could feel her adrenaline kick in, bolstering her bravado and her need to find out what was going on.

"He felt police work was beneath me. I was a Worthington through my mother and I should want to support the family. He thought mom was a foolish, silly woman for walking away from the family and that it would be better for everyone if I came to work for him."

"He wanted you instead of Philip."

He gave a curt nod. "I didn't mind his comments about me, but I didn't like his attitude towards my mom."

"When did you two have this talk?"

Daniel sighed, resigning himself to having the conversation. He leaned against the back of Tess' couch."The first time was when I went to college. And then on fairly regular intervals since then. In the last few months even more so."

That made sense, Tess thought. Asa knew he was dying and wanted someone more capable than Philip to run things.

"Still, it's not something I'd kill him over."

No, it wasn't. "My point is, that if you really look at the situation, Jack had less motive than anyone, except maybe me, to kill Asa. There's no benefit for him."

"This was a crime of opportunity and passion. And Valentine was mad."

"He was annoyed. I've seen him mad." She remembered the anger and rage when she'd broken up with him. But he didn't kill then.

"We're not going to agree on this, Tess, so maybe we should just go back to the old agreement. We agree to disagree."

"Okay. But what if I decided to represent someone else on the opposite side of the family?" she said thinking of her visit with Sarah that afternoon.

His brows grew together in question. "What are you talking about? Are you going to work with Jack again?"

"No. What if there was someone else?"

"Who?"

Tess realized that Daniel didn't know about Sarah, which meant Detective Johnson had not only withheld the information from Daniel, but for some reason made it so Daniel wouldn't find out. Why?

Tess shrugged. "It's just a hypothetical."

"Look. I'm here to apologize and to see if can rebuild our friendship. I can't predict the future."

She knew it would be wrong not to give him a second chance. After all, wasn't that what she was asking from Jack? But her initial reaction was to let Daniel's friendship go, just as Jack had let her go. Because she wanted a second chance, she knew she needed to give one.

"We can work on it."

His body relaxed in relief. "Thank you."

"Can you arrange for me to see Tom?" she asked.

He stiffened slightly making Tess believe that Helen didn't share his sentiments about her. "I'll see what I can do."

~~~~

Tess couldn't ever remember feeling more mentally worn out than she did once Daniel left. She closed up the house, turning off the lights and headed for bed hoping that sleep would give her a respite from her grief.

But she didn't find peace in sleep either. The scenes were vivid in their imagery and scent. She could smell the fire crackling in the fire place. A fire built for two. But the fire grew, expanded and morphed into an inferno, swallowing up her home. She could feel the heat of it sizzling on her skin. The smoke burning her lungs.

There was a woman, so young and innocent, holding a baby. The fire blazed around the helpless woman. The baby floated away from her. She reached for him or maybe she was releasing him, it wasn't clear. As he moved from the crying woman, the baby morphed into a man. Jack. The woman's arms extended to him, reaching, reaching. She looked so familiar. Like looking in a mirror. Tess realized it was her. And Jack was standing right there. All she needed to do was reach out. But she couldn't move. He drifted further and further away until there was nothing. She wanted to cry out, but she couldn't breathe.

Tess jolted up. Her body shook and felt damp from perspiration. She inhaled deeply hoping it would settle her senses, except she still couldn't breathe. The air stung her nose and burned her lungs, causing her to cough and gasp. What was happening? She looked towards the sliding glass door. Normally, with a bright moon, she could see her back yard, but it was gone in a haze. A haze of smoke.

"Oh God." Even as she realized there was no fresh air, her body involuntarily attempted to take in the oxygen it needed. She coughed again. Trying to stay calm, she rolled out of bed and on to the floor. Her mind raced to remember the public service announcements she'd seen as a kid about what to do in a fire. She peeked up over the bed, looking to the bedroom door.  It was a wall of fire. How could that be? She had hardwood floors. There was no carpet or rug. How could it burn like that?

A flame leapt from the door towards her bed. Realizing she was running out of time, she crawled towards the sliding door. The glass felt cool despite the heat from the fire. She unhinged the lock and pulled, but the door didn't move. She pulled again. And again. The fear moving to panic at each failed attempt to open the door. She flipped the lock again thinking maybe she'd accidently locked it the first time. She pulled again. The door didn't budge.

She sagged to the floor. Had the smoke lessened her strength? She scanned her room hoping to find another means of escape. Nothing.  She willed herself to keep thinking as the smoke dull her mind and her senses. What could she do?

Break the window? She scanned her room again looking for something she could use to break the double paned windows. Dresser. Beside table. Lamp. Treadmill. Nothing looked solid enough that she believed she could lift.

"I'm going to die alone, just like he said." She slumped against the door. How could it be that she was less than an inch away from fresh cool air and not able to reach it? Air, air everywhere and not a drop to breath, she thought. She heard a creaking and a bang outside bedroom door.

She shook her head of her doomsday thinking. "I'm not dead yet."

Scanning the room again her eyes landed on the treadmill. It had originally been near the sliding door, but she'd moved it earlier by tilting it on its wheels. Maybe she could wheel it with enough force to break the door.

There's only one way to find out
, she thought. She crawled over to the machine.  She knew she had to stand to move it, but decided that air quality along the floor was no longer any better than in the middle of the room so it wouldn't matter. She gripped the rail and gave a hard pull, maneuvering it onto the wheels.  She set her sights on the glass door as she pushed the treadmill towards it. She felt like she was working as hard as she'd ever had, and yet she wasn't moving as quickly as she wanted. The treadmill finally hit the glass. She heard the sound of it cracking, but it didn't break.

"Oh come on!" She yanked the treadmill back and pushed again. This time the glass broke. She could feel the cool clean air as it flowed into the room. Just as quickly she heard a whoosh and felt heat behind her. She turned to see her bed go up in flames. She realized that her attempt to escape had also fueled the fire.

She ducked under the rail of the treadmill. Using her entire body, she pushed against the running mat forcing it down and through the door.  The jagged glass looked nearly as dangerous as the fire, but Tess knew her chances were better with the glass. She climbed on the running mat, crawling along it through hole of broken window. She felt the treadmill give under her as her weight caused it to crush more glass underneath it. The platform dropped. Tess lost her balance. As she felt herself roll, she lunged wanting to land outside instead of in her fiery room. She felt the tear of flesh as she rolled through the window. She landed hard, tiny knives of pain piercing her back. 

She lay on the cold ground, knowing she'd been cut, and that she was likely lying in a pile of glass. She was out of danger from the fire, but still wasn't safe. It had to be less than 20 degrees and her flannel pajamas and wool socks wouldn't protect her from the menacing cold for long. She took a deep breath, but the effort hurt. Her hip felt like it was on fire. She lifted her head and saw the blood oozing from her hip. She knew she should be moving away from the house and finding shelter. Or calling for help.  But every moved shot pain to her hip and forced tiny shards of glass into her body. She dropped her head back. She was so tired. It was so painful to move. To breath. If she rested, just for a moment, she'd gather the strength she needed to save herself. She closed her eyes, and let the darkness come.

Chapter Forty

Pain clued her in that she wasn't dead. The lack of cold told her she was inside somewhere. Things had turned out okay after all. Tess opened her eyes. The room was dim, the sun rising slowly out the window spreading light into the room. She heard beeps. Looking towards them she discovered a machine measuring something, heart rate maybe. She'd never liked hospitals, but at the moment, she couldn't be happier. She hadn't burned or frozen to death. She could put up with the sharp pain in her hip and the little barbs of pain stinging her arms under the bandages.

"Good morning," a nurse said as she entered Tess' room. "You've got color in your cheeks, that's a good sign."

Tess started to reply, but found the sand in her throat made it impossible.

"Don't talk. The smoke and soot will have made your throat dry and sore. Here's some water. It will help." The nurse poured water from the pitcher beside Tess' bed. She set the cup on a table and rolled it so it floated over Tess' lap. Tess nodded her thanks.

The nurse poked and prodded. "How's the pain? Do you need something for it?"

Tess held out her hand, tilting back in forth to let her know she was in pain, but it wasn't unbearable.

"I'll bring you something for it. The wound in your hip will be sore for a while and slow you down a bit. You're arms should feel better soon. My goodness, did you roll around in glass or something?"

Tess nodded.

"Great day," the nurse said using the common southern expression of disbelief. She stood at the end of Tess' bed writing on a chart. When she hung it back on the bed she said. "The police are waiting to talk to you. Are you up to it?"

"I'll see them," she managed to whisper.

"Here's some paper and a pen. Try not to strain your voice too much."

Tess took the paper and pen and nodded to the nurse.

"I'll let the doctor know everything looks fine. He'll be in to see you shortly."

"Thank you," Tess whispered.

A few moments later Detective Johnson walked in. "I've been growing tired of running into you all the time, especially like this," he said.

Tess nodded.

"You know the drill. I need to find out what you can tell me about who did this to you."

Tess held her hands up in an 'I don't know' gesture. Then she wrote on the paper, "Asa?"

"It's possible it's related. You're the third victim of that party. Have you gotten any threats or any suspicious things happen?"

She shook her head. Then she remembered the car that had nearly hit her a week earlier. She wrote that down.

"Detective Showalter mentioned that before. I was thinking it was an accident, but in light of what happened last night, I guess we should add it to the mix."

Tess lifted the glass of water and sipped. The cool liquid felt good against her dry, burnt throat.

"Why don't we go through your day yesterday. Who'd you meet with?"

Tess made a list for him. Then she wrote. "Could it be related to Sarah's visit?"

"That was my first concern. But I've checked on her and she's fine. As is the other woman and the butler. What about Jack Valentine. Detective Showalter gave me the impression you no longer … worked with him."

"I saw him in Washington," she whispered. "Not him."

"Are you sure? Maybe he didn't like being dumped…as a client that is."

Tess knew he meant as a lover too, but didn't make a comment. She shook her head. "You can talk to him, but it wasn't him."

"What time did you leave Washington?"

She held up her hand showing 5 fingers.

"So you got home about 7?"

She nodded.

He looked at her list again. "About what time did Detective Showalter show up?"

She shrugged. "Eight or so. Personal visit," she clarified. She decided Daniel probably was already in trouble for intruding on the case as it was.

"What did he want?"

Tess couldn't figure out why a personal visit from Daniel would matter, but answered him. "Apologizing."

"For?"

"Our friendship has been strained." She reached for the cup to wet her rough throat.

"Did he talk to you about the case?"

She shook her head. "Not officially."

"You're pretty close with the Showalter family, aren't you?"

"I was," she said clarifying that their closeness was in the past.

"What was their relationship with Asa Worthington?"

Surprise lit Tess' face. "You don’t think-"

He held up a hand, "I'm just covering all bases. Something you've been asking us to do."

"Tom and Asa are old friends. Tom gets annoyed and impatient, but he's probably Asa's best friend and ally. Helen loved Asa, but didn't like him, if that makes sense. She didn't like how he hurt people."

"And Detective Showalter?"

Tess remembered her conversation with Daniel about Asa the night before. "I think he thought like his mother."

"Do you know about Mr. Worthington giving his shares of the company to Mr. and Mrs. Showalter."

Tess nodded. Where was he going with this? They wouldn't have killed Asa for the business. And Tom was attacked too. He wouldn't have attacked himself.

"Do you know what would happen to those shares if Mr. and Mrs. Showalter die?"

Tess swallowed hard. Her mouth was dry, but now it wasn't just from smoke damage. "I don't know."

"Detective Showalter's their only son. Wouldn't he get them?"

Tess squirmed in her bed. "I don't know. I do know he doesn't want to work in the family business."