The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3

by Paula Lester

They approached the front desk inside the police station, which was behind a layer of bulletproof glass. Gloria rapped on it to get the attention of the desk sergeant, whose back was turned as he stood waiting for a Keurig to finish dripping coffee into a black mug with a Star Trek logo. He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t come toward them until the cup was full. Then he carried it over and slid open a circular piece of glass to talk through. "How can I help you ladies this morning?"

  "We represent Lark Jordan, and we’d like to speak with our client alone. Right now. You’ve kept her here long enough without representation." Gloria’s tone was firm.

  The officer looked nonplussed. "She had her phone call," he said. "Used it to call her mom. She did say her lawyers should be showing up, though. Hang on, I'll come around." He snapped the hole shut, grabbed his coffee mug, and disappeared out the back of the office. Moments later, he reappeared in the lobby and gestured for them to follow him through the open door.

  Gloria and Tessa glanced at each other as they followed the man down a short hallway. Gloria gave Tessa a thumbs-up, and she returned it halfheartedly, wondering how much time one could get in jail for impersonating a lawyer. Probably a lot.

  The officer left them in a tiny room that was barely big enough to hold its rectangular table and four rickety wooden chairs. After a few moments, he dumped Lark into the room as well. Gesturing toward a panel on the wall, he said, "I'm going to lock the door. When you're done, use the intercom to call, and I'll be here to let you out."

  After he was gone, Gloria stuck out her hand to Lark. "I'm Blanche Stewart. We need to have a little talk and get some facts straight about your case."

  Lark's eyes flitted over to Tessa, and she wrung her hands. "Okay," she said in a small voice.

  Tessa noticed Gloria didn't specifically tell Lark she was a lawyer, and she hadn’t used the word with the desk sergeant either.

  Lark sat down across from the two non-lawyers. Gloria leaned back in her chair. "I assume you're going to tell me you didn't kill Artemis Green or Nathaniel Neilson," she said.

  "That's exactly what I'm going to tell you because it’s true. There's no way I would've killed my dad. He and I had a great relationship."

  "Okay, Tessa tells me that you worked for Mr. Green and that he knew you were his daughter. Have we got it right so far?"

  Lark nodded. "My mom worked for the Greens first, for many years. She'd take me to work with her, so I could see my dad. I also played with my half-sister, Hannah, all the time. It was really neat—I sort of got to grow up with her, even though she didn't know we were truly sisters." A troubled look flitted over her eyes.

  Gloria leaned in closer. “I feel like you’re holding something back.”

  Lark winced. "I did try to tell her one time—"

  "Really? How did that go?" Gloria shifted in her chair, clearly interested in this answer.

  "She was angry. Called me a liar. From that moment on, she hated me. I completely ruined our relationship when I tried to tell her the truth." Lark sniffed as though trying to hold back tears. "I guess it must've come as a big shock to her after Dad died, to find out I was really telling the truth."

  Tessa’s mind raced at this new information. Hannah hated Lark, but she’d known the closely guarded secret. The puzzle pieces fell together. Hannah must've found out that Artemis had changed his will and knew the only way to keep her full inheritance was to frame Lark for the murder, so she would be disallowed from receiving the business. But Silas being there and getting arrested had put a wrench into her plans.

  It all made sense except for one thing—would she really have killed Nathaniel too? Why would she have done that?

  Gloria and Lark were still talking, but Tessa wasn't listening anymore. She chewed over the problem in her mind. Had Nathaniel actually killed Mr. Green and then Hannah killed him to keep the secret? She supposed that made sense. Hannah was his wife, so she would've had the best access to him that night, plus it would be easy for her to say that the handwriting on the suicide note wasn't his.

  It was hard for her to believe someone would kill their own father and husband, but she remembered Hannah's impassive, non-emotional face at the reading of the will, and a chill went up her spine.

  "I guess I'm going to miss my dad's funeral this afternoon," Lark lamented, and Tessa’s attention snapped back to her.

  "Where is it?"

  Lark shrugged. "Where else? At the estate. Mrs. Green doesn't go out—hasn't for a long time. He's being buried in the private cemetery on the grounds."

  “What time is the funeral?”

  “Two,” Lark answered.

  Tessa checked her watch—it was 12:30. She’d have to hurry.

  She cut her eyes to Gloria, and her friend nodded. "You go. I'll handle things here."

  Tessa jumped to her feet and crossed the room to hit the intercom button as Gloria and Lark continue to speak softly. She waited impatiently for the officer to come let her out. It seemed like forever. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet and checked her watch every ten seconds. Finally, he appeared.

  It took her a moment to explain to him that Gloria was staying but that she was ready to go. He finally let her out into the hallway and then relocked the door.

  Tessa followed him back out to the lobby, but as he was opening the door, the handle flew out of his hand. A man on the other side had opened it at the same time. Tessa recognized him as the detective who had been afraid of the horses at the Green estate.

  Recognition lit up his face as well. "You were at the will reading with Lark Jordan. Oh, you must be her representation.”

  At least the guy was observant, like a detective should be.

  "My firm is," she corrected. "I'm just a paralegal."

  He nodded and looked strangely pleased to find out she wasn't a lawyer. "I'm still working on that investigation," he said. "Just trying to figure out the truth here."

  "Good," Tessa said. "I'd hate to think the detectives on the case were just taking everything at face value."

  "You got something to tell me?" he asked, studying her closely.

  She shook her head. "Not yet, anyway."

  He pulled out a billfold from his back pocket and scrounged around in it for a minute before producing a business card, which he handed to her. "Well, if that changes, give me a call right away." He shook his head and looked thoughtful. "Nathaniel Neilson had a strange cocktail of drugs in his system," he said.

  Tessa tipped her head. "Really? Like what?"

  He shrugged. "Sleeping pills, for sure. There was some other stuff there too—not the common stuff like street drugs or Tylenol or something. The crime lab had to send a blood sample to a private lab with the capability of doing more detailed testing. We’re still waiting on the report to find out exactly what the other substances were."

  Now that was interesting. Tessa zoned out for a minute, trying to figure out what that meant.

  Then she checked her watch again. “Oops. Gotta go.” She held up the business card. “Thanks for this.” Halfway across the lobby, she turned to find him still standing there, watching her. “Keep your phone close this afternoon, okay?

  Chapter 19

  TESSA JOGGED ACROSS the parking lot of Mist River Manor. Another glance at her watch told her she only had about forty-five minutes to get to the funeral in time, and she needed to change clothes. When the building's front door opened, she had a premonition of who would be coming through it, but she hoped to be wrong. She didn't have the time or inclination to deal with him at that moment.

  But she was going to have to. It was Silas.

  She'd always heard of people having long faces when they were sad or upset about something, but she never actually fully understood what it meant until seeing Silas in that moment. It was as though gravity was pulling on his facial features harder than it normally did. Like he was in a bubble that applied two G’s instead of the regular one.

  Tessa came to a stop. There was no way she coul
d get past him and into the apartment building without acknowledging his existence because he was staring right at her. "Hi," she said. "Is everything okay?"

  She knew it wasn’t. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d played some hand in it. She was a one-woman wrecking ball.

  Silas shook his head and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "Nope. I got booted out of my job today." He shook his head and looked at the ground. "I've worked hard here for years. One mistake and I get let go. I still can't believe it."

  Tessa drew herself up, feeling shocked and scandalized on his behalf. "That's not fair!”

  He shrugged, and at the end of it, his shoulders slumped even lower than they did before. "Yeah, well, life's not fair, is it?"

  Tessa winced. "Silas, I'm so sorry. About everything. You were totally right—I should've trusted you with my secret. Then you wouldn’t have needed to follow me to Artemis Green’s house. This is all on me."

  His eyes bounced up, and his gaze met hers. His features softened. "No, I get it now. It's a big secret, and I came on too strong. I never should've expected you to reveal something like that to me when we were just getting to know each other. I should’ve focused on the romance.”

  She smiled. “I wish you would’ve.”

  He pulled one hand out of its pocket and pushed a flop of hair out of his eyes. “I don't know what gets into me sometimes. I can just be so—" He paused, as though trying to figure out the right word, and then unexpectedly burst into laughter. "Well, my mom would've said bull-headed. I guess that's pretty close to right. I am a Taurus, after all."

  Tessa was relieved to see him smiling. Her eyes moved toward the door behind Silas.

  His gaze followed. “Where are you off to? Pepper need some food?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  He shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about you having a cat anymore. Get a whole litter for all I care. In fact, you should. Give the owner’s new landlord hire a run for their money.”

  Tessa shook her head. “No. I took Pepper to my mom’s house. But I do have to get going. I’m in a rush right now.” Another glance at her watch made her suck in a breath and take a step around Silas.

  “Oh. I see. Something for . . . you know what?” He leaned closer and whispered, “The reaper stuff?”

  “Sorta.”

  He held up a hand. “Fair enough. I’m not going to be sticking my nose in where it’s not wanted in that area ever again.” He reached over and brushed a piece of hair off her cheek.

  The touch sent a jolt through her, and Tessa’s heartrate picked up.

  Silas stuffed the hand back into his pocket, as though trying to keep it from doing something he didn’t want it to. “Romance,” he said. “I’m sticking with romance. Would you be interested in going out to dinner with me again? Clean slate. No reaper talk.”

  “Seriously?”

  A line appeared between his brows. “I understand if you don’t want to. I was an idiot, and it would serve me right if you told me to get lost and stop bothering you. If you do, I’ll disappear, and you won’t have to worry about me again.”

  She couldn’t stop a huge smile from spreading across her face.

  But Silas didn’t see it because he was staring at the ground again. “Actually, never mind. Forget I asked. You don’t need to answer . . .”

  Tessa put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Silas!”

  He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Yeah?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. Text me later, and we’ll figure out a time. I have to get going right now.”

  Tessa’s mind had already jumped ahead to her apartment, thinking about the black dress in the back of the closet that she’d change into. Not only was it funeral-appropriate, but it was also good for keeping to the shadows.

  “Great. I’ll do that,” Silas said as she gave him one last wave on the way into the building.

  Tessa dug through her purse for the apartment keys as she hurried across the lobby, trying to figure out which shoes to wear with the dress.

  When she got to the door, there was a Post-It note stuck over the peep hole.

  Weird.

  She yanked it down, barely registering the words that told her a package too big for her mailbox was being held at the front desk. The handwriting wasn’t Silas’s, like it normally would be. It was a different person’s scrawl, and something about it jolted a thought loose in her brain.

  She paused with the key in the door, staring at the Post-It.

  “Well, I’ll be . . .” she whispered.

  She stuffed the Post-It into her purse and then made sure Detective Taggert’s card was safe and in an accessible spot. If her new thought panned out, she’d be needing to use his number soon.

  Then, she exploded into her apartment, even more eager than before to change and get to Artemis Green’s funeral.

  Chapter 20

  THERE WERE A LOT OF people at the funeral. Like, a lot. Tessa had barely made it in time, as the tuxedoed, bowler-hatted butler let her know in no uncertain terms as he led her to a large room on the second floor of the mansion and dropped her off with a final judgmental sniff.

  Regardless of the attitude the butler had thrown her, there was still a crowd of people filtering slowly through the door, so she wasn’t unforgivably late. Still, her mother wouldn’t have approved.

  Tessa got on her tiptoes to peek into the room. The funeral was being held in a ballroom with burgundy and silver carpet, high ceilings, and an elaborate chandelier that definitely looked like it had come from Europe and probably was centuries old. Tessa had to drag her attention away from the surroundings to focus on the people around her. They all spoke in the hushed tones that befit such an event, but she caught snippets of conversation that made it clear Mr. Green had been very well-liked in the community.

  Tessa hadn’t moved very far in line when louder voices erupted ahead. She rose on her toes again and caught a glimpse of Hannah in the doorway, arms crossed, barring Sky from entering. “You aren’t welcome here.” Her voice sounded like stones hitting each other. “Please leave.”

  She couldn’t hear Sky’s answer, but Tessa decided it was the perfect opportunity. She scooched around people, threading her way through the crowd and through the doorway while everyone else’s attention was on the argument.

  Tessa found a chair near the back of the room, hoping she could just blend in with the crowd. She scanned the pamphlet the butler had reluctantly handed her and made a note that the plan was for everyone to accompany the casket to the gravesite after a short service and before returning to the mansion for a catered luncheon. Tessa knew that would be her chance to enact the crazy plan she’d drummed up.

  The room quieted as Hannah helped her mother to the front row. Sky had disappeared.

  A minister began to speak into a microphone, talking about Mr. Green’s childhood. Tessa caught sight of Mrs. Cross in the second row, just behind Hannah and Mrs. Green. She kept blowing her nose into a bright yellow handkerchief.

  Tessa didn’t have a great view of Mrs. Green or her daughter, but when Hannah cast a glare back at Mrs. Cross, it was evident that her eyes were red-rimmed.

  Even though she tried to keep her attention on the service, Tessa didn’t hear much of it. Her thoughts kept swirling back to cover bits of information related to the deaths of Artemis and Nathaniel, now that she had a new lens through which to examine them.

  Once the service was over and people began to file out of the room, Tessa inserted herself into the center of the crowd and left with them. But when everyone else headed downstairs, she darted upstairs as fast as possible and slipped into the first small, empty room she came across.

  It was a small bedroom, but it didn't take long for Tessa to determine it was just for guests. She stuck her head into the hallway, didn't see anyone, and sprinted to the next room. After checking out six or seven rooms that way, Tessa finally arrived at a set of
heavy oak double doors carved with birds, flowers, and butterflies, at the end of a hallway.

  This has got to be it!

  She cracked the door open.

  The room was huge, with a four-poster bed covered in elegant fabrics the various colors of a summer sunset. Tessa entered the room and closed the door behind her. She crossed the floor quickly, passing a hand-carved wooden structure that held five or six different canes. That let her know she was in the right place—Mrs. Green's private quarters.

  Tessa made a beeline for the huge, delicately carved walnut desk facing a huge window that overlooked the horse pasture. She moved papers around, looking at each one of them carefully but swiftly. But there was nothing there.

  She turned in a slow circle, examining the room closely but not sure what she was looking for. Her fingers tapped a beat on the desk as she bit her lip.

  Her fingers hit something that felt different from the rest of the desk, and Tessa glanced down, expecting to see a mouse pad or blotter. She frowned. It was a slight divot in the surface of the wood. She probed at it and squeaked when a tiny panel moved under her fingers.

  A noise across the room made Tessa spin around. She caught the last bit of movement as a narrow floor-to-ceiling armoire slid aside to reveal an equally narrow doorway.

  She glanced back at the panel on the desk. “Cool,” she breathed before hurrying over to the door. Her fingers trembled just a touch as she twisted the knob and prayed it wouldn’t be locked. It gave under her hand. “Yes!”

  Tessa cracked open the door and peeked in.

  It was a stairwell.

  She left the door open because light from the big window splashed in enough that she could see a little. She crept forward, but before she got to the stairs, which led downward, something caught her eye. She pulled out her phone and swiped up, then tapped the flashlight icon. When it came on, she pointed it at the pile of jugs at the top of the stairs.

  Bingo.

  Tessa snapped several pictures and then pulled out Detective Taggert’s business card. She texted him the pictures and then hurried back through the secret doorway.