Defender for Hire (3 page)

She nodded. “She is, but I don’t want Bentley to injure himself more while he’s waiting.”

“I’ll wait with him,” Seth offered.

That would make Tessa and Randal happy. Seth wasn’t so sure it would make
him
happy. He wanted to know what had happened to Tessa, and he wanted to know who to blame. Tessa had been quick to deny knowledge of her attacker, but that didn’t mean she’d been attacked by a stranger.

He fingered the envelope, half tempted to toss it on the kitchen table and let Tessa explain who it was from and how it was possible that the tarantula and the attack weren’t connected.

He’d wait, though. Give her a chance to tell Randal what she needed to. She was almost a stranger, after all, and he had no right to barge into her life and take control.

That’s what his sister, Piper, would probably say. His three brothers would have a different view of the situation.

But Tessa’s opinion was all that mattered. She’d tell the deputy sheriff what she needed to. With or without Seth’s prodding.

He hoped.

The doorbell rang as he walked into the living room, and the front door swung open. A mousy brunette rushed inside. She glanced in Seth’s direction, her gaze dropping to Bentley, who lay still and quiet on the sofa.

She hurried to the dog’s side, putting her hand on his head, sliding it down toward an area on Bentley’s haunch that was glossy and slick with blood. “Where’s Tessa?”

“Speaking with the police.”

“I’m Amy Spenser. Bentley’s veterinarian.” She opened the dog’s mouth, examined his gums. “He’s in shock. I’m going to have to take him to the clinic. Tessa!” she called, her attention focused on the dog, her dark eyes nearly hidden behind the thick lenses of her glasses.

“Right here.” Tessa hurried into the room with Deputy Sheriff Randal right behind her.

Amy’s gaze cut from one to the other, then settled on Tessa. “I’m going to take him to the clinic and start some fluids. You said you thought he was shot?”

“I heard a pop. Nothing like other gunfire I’ve heard, but I don’t know what else it could have been.” Tessa touched the dog’s scruffy chin, her red hair sliding over her shoulder, nearly hiding the bruises on her neck.

“If it’s a gunshot wound, the perpetrator might have used a silencer.” Randal leaned over Bentley, touching the bloodied area. “We’ll need the bullet if there is one.”

“I’ll keep it for you,” the vet responded. “Right now, though, I need to get Bentley stabilized.”

“I’ll carry him out to your car,” Tess said, patting the dog’s big head, her hand trembling.

If he’d known her well, Seth would have taken her hand, tried to still the tremors.

“Let me,” he said instead, sliding his arms under the dog and lifting him from the couch. The poor mutt didn’t even whimper.

Cold wind knifed through Seth’s jacket as he followed Dr. Spenser to an SUV and lowered Bentley into the back. The dog licked his hand, its tail thumping. No wonder Tessa had given him a home.

Seth closed the hatch, his shoulder throbbing. He’d been up since before dawn. After therapy, he’d dropped off Tessa’s unwanted pet and then gone to the office where he poured over files until his neck cramped and his eyes crossed. He needed to go home and stretch the kinks out, maybe go for a run to clear his head. What he shouldn’t do was get involved in Tessa’s troubles. He’d been through six years of trouble. First Julia’s death, then his injury, his surgery, his recovery. He didn’t need or want anything more than what he’d finally achieved: normalcy, and a little peace.

He had a feeling that peace was the last thing he’d have if he didn’t get in his truck and drive away.

Sometimes, though, peace was overrated. Sometimes God put a person in just the right place at just the right time to accomplish His will and plan. It could be that Seth had been dropped into Tessa’s life at exactly the right moment to lend a hand.

He couldn’t turn away from that. No matter how much he thought he should.

He shoved his hand in his pocket, his fingers brushing the envelope that had brought him to Tessa’s house. He’d planned to deliver it to her, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

THREE

“Y
ou’re sure that you don’t know the perpetrator?” Deputy Sheriff Randal asked for what seemed like the thousandth time in the ten minutes since they’d returned to the kitchen.

Tessa wasn’t sure what response he wanted, but apparently it wasn’t the one she’d been giving. She gave it again, anyway, tapping her fingers against the stained wood of the old dinette table. “I never saw his face, Deputy—”

“Call me Logan. Most people around these parts do,” he cut in, offering a quick smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t know who attacked me. If I did, I’d tell you.”

“Sometimes victims want to protect their attackers.”

“I’m not protecting anyone.” But in a way, that was exactly what she was doing. She was protecting Daniel, his legacy, his dream.
Their
dream.

She bit her lip, torn between the need to do that and the need to tell Logan everything that had happened in the woods—including the words that had been whispered in her ear.

“But, you
are
hiding something.”

She was. That was the problem.

“I—”

The front door opened, cutting off the truth before Tessa could reveal it.

Logan cocked his head to the side and frowned, pushing away from the table, his hand dropping to his firearm. “Stay here. I’ll see who that is.”

Even if she’d wanted to, Tessa didn’t have the energy to follow him from the room. Her neck hurt. Her head throbbed. Her elbow ached.

And she was more scared than she’d been in a long time.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and trying to imagine a scenario where the attack had nothing to do with her past.

I remember. Do you?

She did. Every moment of the nightmare that she’d survived and every bit of the secret she’d been charged with. Could she tell the sheriff about one without telling him about the other?

Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor, masculine voices mixing with the quiet hum of the refrigerator. She wanted to say goodnight to Logan, climb in bed, close her eyes and pretend that everything was the same as it had been when she’d gotten up that morning. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t solve her problems. She’d learned that the hard way, ignoring all the little hints that Andrew had let slip because she hadn’t wanted to believe that he was anything other than upright and trustworthy.

It had cost her the only man she’d ever loved. It had cost Daniel his life. She couldn’t let it cost any more.

She shoved away from the table, wishing she could push away the memories. She just wanted to forget and move on, but no matter how long or far she ran, she couldn’t escape the past.

She grabbed the kettle from the 1920s stove and filled it with tap water. A cup of tea wouldn’t sooth her nerves, but she needed to keep her hands busy, keep her mind occupied. If she didn’t, she might sink back into the abyss she’d fallen into after Daniel’s death. The dark well of grief and anger had nearly destroyed her. It had taken everything she’d had to pull herself out of it. Her faith had suffered, her relationship with God floundering as she wrestled with nightmares and fear. She couldn’t allow herself to go back there.

“Tessa,” Logan said as he walked back into the kitchen with Seth. “It seems like you left a little bit out of the story you told me.”

“What’s that?” she responded, reminding herself that Logan couldn’t know what had been whispered in her ear. But that didn’t stop her heart from thumping hard. One revelation would lead to another, and that was a path she wasn’t sure she could take. Not without risking everything she and Daniel had worked for.

“The delivery you received this morning?” Logan prodded.

“It was nothing.” She glanced at Seth, found that she couldn’t drag her gaze away. He didn’t look apologetic. But, then, she hadn’t expected him to be that any more than she’d expected him to keep what had happened that morning to himself. She wanted to be angry, wanted to feel betrayed, but she’d have probably done the same if she’d been in his position.

“There aren’t many people who would say that if they received a package with a giant spider in it,” Logan said, pulling her attention back where it needed to be—on him, the conversation, the questions that she needed to answer. And, the ones she couldn’t.

“I’m not most people.”

“Apparently not, because most people would be happy to give me the information that I need in order to help them,” Logan said as he settled into a chair.

“I
am
happy to give you the information. It’s just...things are complicated.” She turned away from the men and pulled mugs from the cupboard. “Would either of you like coffee or tea?”

“I’d rather have answers,” Logan replied.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, willing her voice to remain steady as she pivoted, nearly bumping into the rock-solid wall of Seth’s chest.

He stood just inches away, his coat open to reveal a blue button-down shirt tucked into black pants. He must have come from work to deliver the envelope.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked quietly.

She almost told him that she did, but he’d gone out of his way to help her and she couldn’t bring herself to send him away. “Whatever you want to do is fine.”

She moved past him and sat across from Logan. “My husband was murdered five years ago today.”

Logan stiffened, but he didn’t speak.

Tessa knew he was waiting for her to continue, but she didn’t know what else to say—how much to reveal, how much to keep hidden.

“I’m sorry, Tessa.” Seth broke the silence, his tone gentle, his eyes the color of the sky at dusk—deep azure blue, and almost glowing in his tan face. There was something in those eyes, something that she’d lost so long ago she’d stopped believing she’d ever find it again.

She blinked, and whatever she thought she’d seen was gone.

“We were missionaries to Kenya,” she said. “An insurgent group attacked the village we were ministering to. Twenty people were killed or wounded. Daniel was one of casualties. So was his brother, Andrew.” Five years of recounting the tale had given her practice saying what needed to be said, but the words still made her throat raw and her chest tight.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Logan jotted something in a small notebook.

“I didn’t think it mattered.” Didn’t
want
to think it mattered, anyway. She pulled her hair from its ponytail and gathered it back in, keeping her hands busy so she didn’t give herself away.

“Everything matters,” Logan said, jotting something else in his notebook.

She needed to tell him everything.

She knew she did, but the words were stuck.

She cleared her throat. “Then I guess I should tell you that the guy who attacked me asked if I remembered.”

Logan stilled, his face tight with irritation. “That’s a big piece of information to leave out.”

“She didn’t leave it out,” Seth responded before Tessa could. “She’s telling you now.”

Tessa didn’t need his support, and she should have told him that. But the truth was, it had been years since anyone had stood in her corner, and even though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, it felt good to have Seth there.

Plus, there were too many other things to worry about. Like trying to explain why she hadn’t immediately told Logan about the whispered words.

“Everything happened so quickly,” she murmured.

“I understand, but I need to know that I have all the details. Is there anything else I should know?” Logan looked up from the notebook.

Could she tell him about the roses?

Probably—the roses weren’t part of her secret.

“Every year someone brings me a black rose on the anniversary of the massacre. It’s been happening for five years, but there’s never been anything else.”

“Until today,” Seth reminded her.

“Until today,” she agreed.

“Did you get a rose today?” Logan asked, his expression grim and hard.

“I did. It was left on the hood of my car.”

“Do you still have it?”

She shook her head, her eyes hot and gritty. She was saying too much, but she didn’t know what else to do. “I threw it into the yard this morning.”

“Left or right of the driveway?”

“Left.”

“I’m going to see if I can find it, then I’m heading out onto the trail. Hopefully, I’ll be able to collect some evidence. Stay put until I come back.”

He strode from the room, his boots tapping on the hardwood floor. The front door opened, then closed.

Tessa went to the stove and lifted the kettle, pouring hot water into a mug and dunking a tea bag in it—and avoiding Seth’s eyes. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed, his hair a little windblown. He looked good, and that wasn’t something she wanted to notice.

She yanked sugar from the cupboard and scooped two large spoonsful into her tea. “I appreciate your help tonight, Seth, but I don’t want to take up more of your time.”

“Is that a subtle dismissal?”

“I didn’t think I was being subtle, but you’re welcome to call it that.”

“Touché.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But before I go, how about you tell me the rest of the story? I know you’re holding back.”

An image flashed through her mind—blood pouring over her hands as she tried to staunch the flow. Daniel’s pale face and pale lips and dark, dark eyes.
It was worth it,
he’d whispered, and then he’d told her to go.

She closed her eyes, her head spinning.

Seth caught Tessa by the shoulders as she seemed to stumble forward. “You’d better sit down, Tessa.”

“I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t look okay to him. “I told Logan everything. There’s nothing more to say.”

Seth pulled the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Tessa. “You didn’t tell him about this,” he said.

He didn’t think she’d look inside it. He probably wouldn’t have if he were in her shoes. Not in front of someone else. And not if he knew it was somehow connected to his past.

She smoothed her fingers over the flap, her eyes dark and troubled. “
This
I really did forget about.”

“Do you want to look inside before I give it to Randal?”

“I’d rather it just stay sealed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve spent five years trying to escape the past, and whatever is in here will probably just tie me to it.”

“Only you can do that, Tessa.”

Tessa shrugged, a silky strand of hair escaping her ponytail. His fingers itched to brush it away.

He clenched his fists, surprised by the longing.

In the six years since Julia’s death, he’d dated a few women, trying to fill the aching loneliness that losing her had left. It hadn’t worked, and eventually he’d given up on the idea. He’d been happy with the decision, never doubting it even once.

Lately, though, he’d been yearning for the kind of connection that came from loving someone completely, from trusting her with every part of who he was.

“I guess I can’t put this off forever,” Tessa muttered.

Seth covered her hand before she could open the envelope. “Put these on first. We don’t want to contaminate any evidence.” He pulled leather gloves from his pocket and handed them to her.

“You’ve been carrying the envelope around all day. Do you really think there’s going to be any evidence on it?” she asked, but she slid her hands into the gloves.

“I’m not worried about the outside. I want to protect what’s inside.”

She nodded, sliding her finger under the flap and carefully opening the envelope. She pulled out a photograph, stared at it for a moment, her expression unreadable. “What is it?” Seth asked, leaning over to get a look.

She shook her head and shoved the photo back into the envelope before he could get more than a glimpse of three people standing near a mud hut.

“Just another reminder of things I wish I could forget. Can you bring it to Logan?” she asked, taking off the gloves and sliding them across the table. He shoved them back into his pocket.

“Sure,” he replied, taking the envelope she held out to him, his fingers brushing hers. A jolt of heat shot up his arm, that one touch reminding him of what he’d lost. What he’d told himself he’d never look for again.

Tessa’s eyes widened and she pulled back, brushing her fingertips against her jeans as if that could somehow change what they’d both felt. “You should probably wait outside for Logan.”

This time, he didn’t ignore her dismissal.

He needed a little space, a little time to think about the reaction that he’d had to that simple touch.

He pulled a business card from his wallet and dropped it on the table. “I’ll see you next week. If you need anything before then, give me a call.”

“Thanks.” She offered a half smile, flashing the dimple in her cheek. She was a beautiful woman. There was no doubt about that. But she had a boatload of baggage.

Not that Seth could point fingers—he had his fair share of baggage, too.

He walked outside, needing the cold night air to clear his head. Randal was nowhere in sight. Seth leaned against the porch railing to wait for him, the envelope and photo heavy in his hand.

It was none of his business.

He knew that.

But something in Tessa’s eyes made him want to make it his business. Not the fear or the sadness, but the raw strength that he sensed had carried her through something terrible.

He slid the photo out of the envelope, careful to touch only the edges.

Tessa standing between two men. She looked young and carefree, a long blue dress covering her slim figure and a baseball hat shielding her eyes. Her hair was longer, the deep-red braid falling over her shoulder nearly to her waist. Behind her, a mud hut blocked the landscape, but it was obvious the picture had been taken in Africa.

Both men had black hair and tan skin. Both were tall and thin, but Tessa’s gaze was on the older of the two, her smile only for him. He had to be her husband.

Seth flipped the photo over. No note, date or label.

He slid it back into the envelope, anxious to hear Randal’s take on it. The photo had obviously been taken during the mission trip to Kenya. Whoever had taken it might also have put it in the box with the tarantula.