Tessa's Treasures (9 page)

Having spent so much effort controlling himself, exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks. Too restless to sleep, he went downstairs and poured a small drink from the dust-covered bottle of brandy he’d had for a couple of years.

No point in telling Mason what he’d learned tonight. The poor guy already felt like hell over what had happened to his sister. He finished the drink and took a long, hot shower. Dressed in only his boxer shorts, he climbed in alongside Tessa. She whimpered in her sleep and rolled toward him. He settled her head on his shoulder and kissed her forehead. It’d been a hell of a night. For both of them.

****

Tessa blinked. Where was she? She rolled to the side, and stared at a head of thick black hair. As her gaze wandered over strong tanned shoulders and a muscular back, some memories returned. She slept alongside Lucas and since she didn’t recognize the sheets, it must be his bedroom.

At that moment everything flooded back. The horrible drunk who grabbed her as she waited at the table for Lucas. How he dragged her onto the dance floor against her objections. She shivered at the memory of his hot breath on her neck, the way her arm hurt when he grabbed her. Suddenly Lucas was there. Thrilled at having him come to her defense, the swiftness of his anger scared her to death. Did all men solve problems with their fists?

Lucas rolled over and smiled as he ran his scratched knuckles over her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He propped his head on one elbow and regarded her. “How do you feel?”

“Drained. I think I really dumped on you last night.” A cascade of emotions rolled through her. Embarrassment, guilt, and an unsure feeling of what he must’ve thought unsettled her stomach. She gave him a half smile.

“It sounded like you’ve been carrying around a whole lot of baggage for a long time. Now I don’t want you to get mad at your brother, but Mason told me what happened. But he didn’t know about the rape, did he?” Lucas' soft gaze reassured her and her queasy stomach relaxed.

Neither the police nor the prosecutor ever knew about the rape. For some bizarre reason she’d felt embarrassed to tell them, like somehow it was her fault. The beating, and her broken arm, jaw and cracked ribs, were enough to get him sent to prison, so she’d buried it. Tessa closed her eyes. The shame of it all came back again. “I never told anyone about it. Until you.”

“I’m glad you got it out. I think it’s all a process of your healing.”

Lucas smoothed her tangled hair and kissed her forehead. After several comforting caresses and seeing her body relax he sat upright and stretched. He had to get out of this bed, squelch the temptation to make long, slow love to her. Not sure how fragile she was at this point it made more sense to wait. He glanced back at her, all soft and warm from sleep. With an inner groan, he swung his legs over the edge and stood. “I’m going to hop in the shower, unless you want to go first?”

“You go ahead. I’ll wait till I get home. I can’t stand the thought of dirty clothes over a clean body.”

The water pounded on his head and shoulders, but had no effect on his erection. He turned the hot water off, and soon ice cold water pelted his skin. Goose bumps drove his blood back to his brain.

As his thoughts cleared, he ran through again all the odd things that had happened to Tessa recently. Mentally he ticked them off—Tessa’s store broken into, her car goes dead for no reason, and then she’s harassed by a drunk in a bar. Coincidences? Maybe. But his training and experience told him coincidences were rare.

A voice in the back of his mind shouted he was too personally involved to form an objective opinion. They probably were a coincidence. Kids cause mischief, cars break down, drunken losers annoy women in bars. He was overreacting.

But that didn’t change his need to find the bastard she’d been married to. After what he’d witnessed last night, it was indeed better if the police found him first.

****

Short’s Garage occupied the same spot on Walnut Avenue near Tenth Street for over thirty years. Thriving businesses lined both sides of the street, mostly owned by kids or grandkids of previous owners. Not much had changed in this part of town since Lucas had raced his souped-up Chevy truck up and down the street years ago.

He swung his jeep into the gravel covered ground in front of the small office. Barely nine o’clock and the sun already hung high in the sky, raising the temperature. Full summer weather would be upon them in no time.

Lucas held the door for Tessa and they entered the dimness of the building. Dark wood paneling created a definite contrast between the bright sun outside and the office inside. A fully naked girl either digitally enhanced or circus material, tipped her cowboy hat and aimed a pistol at them from the calendar on the far wall.

“Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter with an iron-gray helmet hairdo and granny glasses glared at them, as if resenting the intrusion. Or perhaps she simply hated spending another day starring at the calendar, waiting for the year to end so she could rip it off the wall.

“Good morning. We’re here about Ms. Jordan’s car. It was towed last night.”

She flicked her wrist. “See Jonas outside.” Having done her duty, she turned her back on them and returned to her computer screen.

They walked past two bays where a Volkswagen and Honda Accord were up on the lifts, mechanics in oil-covered jumpsuits examining them. The blasting radio could barely be heard above the banging of iron and hiss of air guns.

Jonas stood outside, speaking with a teenager who looked forlornly at a twisted piece of metal that was once a car. He slapped the young man on the back, said a few more words, and wandered over to them. A matchstick stuck out between his lips, his loose-limbed slow walk reminiscent of Mayberry, RFD. “I don’t know what happened, Miz Jordan, but your car is fine.”

“You found nothing?” Lucas used one of his better policeman glowers on the hapless mechanic, hoping an intimidating look might change his findings.

“Nope. Nothing. It started up fine for me. Tried it a bunch of times. Go ahead, try it yourself.” He waved toward the car.

Lucas slid behind the wheel. Sure enough, it started right up. Another coincidence? They were slowly mounting.

“How much do I owe you, Jonas?” Tessa fumbled with her purse, fishing out her wallet.

“Only for the tow, Miz Jordan. I can’t rightly charge ya for a repair, cause they’re ain’t nothin’ wrong.” The young mechanic smiled, revealing a gap where a central incisor tooth was missing.

She handed over a credit card and Jonas disappeared into the store. Lucas joined her, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t get it. We both tried to start it.”

“I’m getting tired of all these crazy things happening. My life used to be so peaceful. Boring almost.” Her soft chuckle calmed his tense nerves. Though he loved to hear her laugh, when he studied her closely, her real mood was revealed.

In the light of day, the strain from last night was more apparent. The delicate skin beneath her eyes looked bruised and exhausted. Lines he hadn’t noticed before framed her mouth, and she seemed to hold her face in a perpetual frown. An overwhelming urge to grab her by the hand, head for his boat, and take off surged through him. Points unknown, new places, no ex-husband, no crazy incidents.

Tessa slid the credit card back into her wallet, and stuffed the receipt in her purse. They walked to her car. She slid behind the wheel, fastened her belt, and then adjusted the mirror. Lucas leaned on the window frame. “You going to be okay at work today?”

“Frances is coming in, I may let her close. I’m just so tired I could sleep for a week.”

“Take it slow today, all right? I’ll stop by later.” He leaned in, gave her a kiss and stepped back to watch her car until it was out of sight.

****

Dean cruised into Duncan.
Another Oklahoma craphole
. A couple of busybodies coming out of Dolly’s Hair Salon watched his car. No one knew him here, though, except his sweet little bride.

He glanced at the directions printed off the Mapquest website and swung onto Main Street. Three blocks down he passed
Tessa’s Treasures.

Not bad. Actually looked kinda nice. He snorted. No surprise there. Little Tessa always appeared perfect, at least on the outside. Only someone who lived with her day in and day out knew what was underneath. Her nervous voice when he spoke to her, how she rattled dishes when she served his dinner. And to top it off, when he fucked her, it was like having sex with a corpse. Always had that expression on her face like she was looking for a place to hide. Only made him want to smack her more.

He pulled into a parking space several spots down and across the street from her store, turned off the engine and sat back. A black-haired dude strolled out of the store with his arm wrapped around Tessa’s waist as if he owned the bitch. She looked into the loser’s eyes like he hung the moon. What the fuck? That’s who she’s screwing now?

Hope you have better luck with that block of ice than I did, buddy.
But I’ll put an end to that soon anyway. Yeah, real soon, little Tessa.

****

Tessa gave Lucas a brief kiss, and watched him head to his jeep. For an instant, her attention was drawn to a white convertible pulling away from the curb across the street. Something about the back of the man’s head looked familiar, but when you’ve lived in a town for years, everyone looked familiar.

With no customers and no bus tours expected for the afternoon, she settled on a stool behind the counter and reached for the journal. She flipped to the page tagged with the yellow sticky note and resumed reading.

The writer, Catherine Rogers, led a rather mundane life, but Tessa found a lot of interest in her everyday events. Reading about another person’s life, especially when they lived so long ago, fascinated her.

The hairs on her neck seemed overactive today and her heart thumped in a crazy rhythm. Whether it was a lack of sleep or the many oddities of the last few days, something didn’t feel right Twice she paused to glance out the windows, even checked to make sure the back door was locked. Rubbing her palms over her upper arms to ease the sudden chill in the room, she read the lines, a quotation from a letter, again:

The magic happened on the eve of Antonio’s wedding to you. I asked our gypsy witch to place a spell on my daughter that any person who betrayed her would suffer. I asked this because I had learned that my dear departed Rosa, my beloved wife, had been unfaithful to me, and I wished most of all for my daughter to never suffer the pain of betrayal.

The gypsy witch made a mistake, though. Antonia was sleeping with her doll that night, something the witch did not notice until after she cast the spell. Worried that the doll absorbed the spell, she recast it and added a caveat that true love would break the spell. Regardless, care should be taken that the doll is not harmed because from the things you’ve mentioned, it does seem the doll did absorb the spell.

The doll?

Could Catherine Rogers be referring to the strange doll from Lucas’ attic? Was there really a curse on it for anyone who betrayed it? How odd. She read the entry one more time and remembered the strange store break-in, her car not starting, but firing up at the mechanic’s shop. Her chest heaved as she recalled the cowboy at the bar. Could all these things be happening to her because of the scrimshaw doll? But how had she harmed it?

If anyone betrayed it, Lucas had when he gave it to her. But she still had it.

Yet, Lucas wasn’t affected. Once more the words jumped off the page at her. She zeroed in on the phrase:
she recast it and added a caveat that true love would break the spell.

She sat back, her mouth a perfect circle. True love would break the spell? Ridiculous. It sounded like a child’s fairy tale. With a giggle, she waved away such nonsense. Anyway, she couldn’t allow Lucas to fall in love with her, because she would not get involved with another lawman.

Tessa closed the book with a thud, shoved it beneath the counter, then checked her watch. Time to leave. She hurried to turn all the lights off and lock up. She strolled to her car in the empty lot, pretending all she’d read didn’t bother her and everything was fine. Once behind the wheel, she sat and let her heart return to normal. With a deep breath, she put the key in the ignition, turned it, and waited.

The motor hummed to life—as if nothing abnormal had happened yesterday or any day. She looked in the mirror, chastising herself for being stupid. With a shaky hand, she applied lip gloss and slipped on her sunglasses. As she drove home, enjoying the beautiful late spring day, a Blake Shelton song on the radio lifted her spirits and had her humming along with the tune.

Out of nowhere, a child’s ball flew past the windshield. She slammed on her brakes, colliding against the seat belt as she lurched forward. The sickly crunch of metal sounded as she felt the car behind hers crash into her rear end. Her head snapped back, banging on the headrest. Stunned, she couldn’t move, couldn’t catch her breath. Couldn’t think.

Someone screamed, “What the hell did you stop for?”

Turning to the driver’s side window, a red-faced man glared at her, mouthing words she couldn’t understand. Her heart beat so fast she feared she might pass out. Though her hands trembled so hard she would barely unfasten the seat belt, she forced herself to open the door.

The middle-age man, still red-faced and very angry, stapped back while she used the door as a prop in order to rise on equally shaky legs. “A b-b-ball,” she stammered. “There was a ball. I was afraid a child would run into the street after it—so I—”

“What the hell are you talking about, lady?” He swept his hand out in a grandiose gesture. “There’s no kid. There’s no ball. In fact, there’s nothing.” He leaned close, narrowing his eyes. “Are you drunk?”

With frantic twists of her head from one direction to the next, then back again, Tessa realized he was right. No balls. No children.

But she’d seen something!

She blinked and looked again. No children were about, even in the distance. The only thing she saw were two teenagers, walking hand in hand as they held onto a small dog’s leash. And that was at least two blocks down the road.