by Adams, Anna
An attorney and a cop, they’d believed in law and reason. They’d both used logic as a weapon. Keely had induced them to embrace their emotions.
Tessa had finally admitted to disappointing her parents with the extra ten pounds she never seemed to shed. She’d tamed her compulsion to stake herself in a job that meant she’d never have to depend on anyone for support again.
Noah had finally talked about the day his father had died. They’d sworn to protect their baby girl from guilt. Unconditional love for their daughter had begun to heal their childhood wounds. Healing had brought enough trust to believe they could fashion a safe, loving home for Keely.
But then they’d lost her.
Tessa slid the black dress off its yellow satin hanger. Who could have believed she’d have to attend David’s funeral now? Hadn’t he suffered enough when Joanna died? Hadn’t he tried to protect her even after death? He’d been a good man, a loving father and husband who’d go to any length for his family.
Did fate have to be so damn cruel?
She unzipped the dress and scrunched up the material to slide it over her head. She mourned the friendship that had outlasted her marriage. Like a big brother on his best protective behavior, David had warned her off Noah at first, recognizing the other man’s ruthless edge. But when he’d realized she loved Noah, David had gotten to know him, and Noah had good-naturedly jumped through David’s hoops to prove himself.
Next had come the family dinner where David had convinced her mom and dad Noah was on the fast track to become police commissioner. As Tessa tried not to laugh, her mother had immediately begun planning a wedding fit for the top guy in Boston law enforcement.
Tessa laughed, remembering how she’d accused David of going too far. He’d sworn her mom would be Noah’s friend for life, as long as she pushed her homicide cop to go for the top job. Even then, they’d both known Noah was always going to chase the killers.
As laughter turned to grieving tears, Tessa snatched a tissue from a box on her dressing table and dabbed at her mascara. Crying wouldn’t help. She slipped a black silk blazer over her dress and braided her hair with compulsive neatness.
Then she applied makeup in sober shades of plum and faint purple and ran a matte lipstick over her mouth. Finally she slid her feet into the pumps she’d always worn for her most important interviews.
She had to find the person who’d killed her best friend. She owed David.
She glared at herself in her mirror. In case Noah was right about the murderer showing up at the service, she wanted to look like power.
NOAH HAD PLANNED to arrive at the service early and hang at the back of the crowd, but Tessa worried him. Dressed to kill, her eyes as cold as the snow blowing out of a blue-gray sky, she gripped his arm with Amazon strength and made him think of a bullet headed straight for a target.
At her side, he studied each dark-clad mourner. The men settled uncomfortably on the narrow bench seats and refused to look at David’s photo, wreathed in greenery on a podium. The women, covered from chin to toe, exhaled icy suspicion as they watched Tessa.
He studied his ex-wife, too. Obviously, some fine citizens of Prodigal, Maine, agreed with Weldon’s assumption that Tessa’d had an affair with David. Did she know? She looked away from no one. She challenged each mourner’s gaze with her own questions, and she obviously didn’t give a damn what they thought.
Good.
She finally understood someone in this town had killed her best friend. Something had awakened her from her shock. “Any of your guys here yet?” he asked her.
She nodded toward a man in a faded navy pinstripe that might have been new two decades ago. “Mr. Swyndle, the lobsterman.”
“Let’s say hello.” Working during the summers at the tourist towns along the Maine coast, Noah had heard stories about territorial lobstermen, but Fevre had taken advantage of Swyndle’s daughter, not his lobster pots.
“Now? Couldn’t we wait for a more appropriate time, Noah?”
“No.” He took her arm and leaned into her shoulder, unable to avoid breathing the tempting scent of her hair. “We can’t afford to be polite.”
The fisherman stood as Tessa neared him. He offered his hand. “Morning, Tessa.”
“Hello, Mr. Swyndle.”
“Sorry about David. He was a good young man.”
When she didn’t answer, Noah slid a protective arm around her shoulders. The fisherman eyed Noah speculatively.
“This is Noah Gabriel, Mr. Swyndle.”
“I’ve heard of you.” Ned Swyndle shook hands with firmness that reminded Noah of the strength it had taken to wield that knife. But the older man looked him in the eye as though he had nothing to hide, and in fact he was curious about Noah’s presence.
“Pleased to meet you,” Noah said, not satisfying the man’s curiosity. “I’m sure Tessa’s glad to have you here.”
“I owed David my respects,” Swyndle said. “And, Tessa, I’m still fighting my gold-digging prospective son-in-law, so you’ll keep my business.”
Surprise softened her voice. “Thank you, Mr. Swyndle.”
“That’s the best I can do for David, now,” the fisherman said. “Keep my business in his firm.”
“Who’s this, Tessa?”
A man’s sharp voice broke into their conversation from behind. High-pitched with barely held rage, the tone wakened all Noah’s instincts. He turned, clamping Tessa to his side.
A tall, blond man took a step toward them, trying to challenge Noah with his jealous gray eyes. “I’m Eric Sanders,” he said. “Who are you?”
“Tessa’s husband.” Not the precise truth, but Noah itched to show the guy who had rights to Tessa, and who’d better climb back into his family’s bank vault.
“Noah,” Tessa began with exasperation in her voice. She stopped when Sanders whipped his gaze to her. “I didn’t expect you here, Eric.”
“I wanted to see you. I know you’ll need comfort now that David’s gone. I’ll be calling you.”
The wheedling tone became a threat. Noah glanced at Tessa and was stunned to see her eyes brimming with tears. He moved, to block her from her stalker’s view.
“I’m taking care of my wife, Sanders.” He lowered his voice. “And I’ll be taking care of you if you don’t—”
“Noah,” Tessa broke in. She grabbed Ned Swyndle’s arm. “Maybe you would show Eric to a seat, Mr. Swyndle?”
“I think I should.” The fisherman smirked. “He’ll be sitting in the back with me today.”
As Swyndle hauled the younger man to a pew, Noah clenched his fist. “I’ll make sure he knows his place after today.”
“Stop playing the jealous husband, and try to think of David. This isn’t the place to square off with Eric Sanders.”
“I know that guy, or guys like him.” He brushed moisture from the corner of her eye. “He wants you, and he’s not honest or honorable.”
“Cut it out.” She turned him toward the front of the church.
“This is why you asked me here. I’m doing my job. I’d have said the same thing to him if he’d talked like that to any woman.” He and Baxton had been providing the same kind of protection for Della Eddings. How could he not protect Tessa?
“I’m begging you not to make this worse. I live in a small town, Noah, and I intend to go on living here for a long time.”
Without answering, he took a seat beside her in their pew. No matter who the killer was, before Noah left Prodigal, he’d convince her Eric was dangerous.
“What was Swyndle’s beef with David?”
“He thought we should have moved faster to destroy Jon Fevre.”
Didn’t sound like much. “Did you see the other guy? Carlson?”
“He’s in front of Mr. Swyndle and Eric.” She nodded over her shoulder. “Big guy, dark burgundy vest, leather cap. We’re not going back there.”
He looked. A large, florid man, wearing a dark reddish vest tautly stretched across a prosperous stomach,
tipped his leather cap. Noah nodded and then leaned down.
“You can introduce me after the service.” He tugged at his tie. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with Sanders.”
“This service is for David. I’d like to remember it with a small measure of dignity.”
“I lost my temper. Sorry.” He cared about their friend, too, but Sanders was a man who needed to be told he was being watched. He’d been too intent on Tessa.
After several minutes passed with no one else entering the dim, incense-laden church, the minister stepped up to his podium. “I’m sorry about the lack of heat, but we couldn’t bribe a repairman to come this morning. Shall we start?”
Everyone nodded in answer to the rhetorical question. Tessa merely locked her delicate jaw. She was magnificent, so small her head barely reached his shoulder, but a hell of a fighter.
“David asked us to keep this brief,” the minister said, “but I’m not sure he realized how many of you would be touched by his death. I’m glad you’ve come to pay your respects. Perhaps some of you will find comfort in telling us about your friendship with David before I wish him final farewell with a prayer.”
New mourners entered in clumsy-sounding shoes that seemed to rock the arched rafters. Those shoes were police boots. The crowd stirred. Noah turned. Out of the shadows, Weldon seemed to materialize over a tall man’s shoulder.
The young, uniformed kid who’d greeted Noah at the police station that first night hovered at Weldon’s side. Another uniformed officer strolled to the last unoccupied pew on the other side of the aisle.
Had they come to make an arrest? He twisted his arm out of Tessa’s grasp and pulled off his glove to link his fingers with hers. Over his dead body would Weldon or either of his henchmen take this woman from his side.
But they didn’t seem to be interested in her. They searched each of the mourners’ faces, just as he and Tessa had done.
“I have something to say.” A young woman, maybe twenty if she was a day over eighteen, teetered to the podium, smoothing a too-short green skirt over her thighs. “I’m Serena Hope. I’m the teacher in Maggie’s room at the Children’s Cabin. I just want to say that whoever did this to David Howard ought to suffer the way he did. He was a good father. He loved his daughter, and it’s just a damn shame what happened to him.” She spun away, but then turned back. “Someone needs to swear when a good man dies.”
Noah held back a cheer for Serena Hope’s speech. She stared at Tessa, who slowly gritted her teeth. Serena clasped her hands to her own red face and ran, finding her balance on the heels.
Noah glanced at his ex-wife, who seemed unaware of icy tears streaking faint white salt paths across her cheeks. He let go of her hand and then slid an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. She forgot to resist.
Coughs punctuated the cold silence after Serena’s belligerent speech. A burst of wind buffeted the church’s stained glass windows. Rustling sounds betrayed the mourners’ growing restlessness.
“Tessa?” the minister said.
She jumped, and Noah wanted to wrap both his arms around her and drag her back to the warmth and comfort of her small house.
She stood at their seat. “Many of you know David was my best friend and my law partner.” She flicked a glance at the pews behind them. “What mattered to David was his family. He loved Joanna and he tried hard not to be lost without her because he wanted to be a good dad for Maggie. I can tell you he helped me survive my own daughter’s death, and I’m sorry I’ll never be able to make sure he knew what he and Joanna meant to me.” She turned toward his photo, fisting her hands at her sides. “David, I miss you already. I wish you were here, because I need to talk to my best friend right now. I’d tell you I’ll make sure Maggie knows how much you and Joanna loved her. Thank you for a friendship I refuse to mourn.” Her voice broke. Her shoulders grew more stiff. “I love you, David, and I’ll miss you. I’ll never let Maggie forget you or her mom.”
Noah stared at her back, braced against all offers of comfort. He stared at his empty hands.
And he found himself on his feet. Taking a sharp breath that hurt his chest, he started talking. “I’m Noah Gabriel. I have more to thank David for than maybe anyone else here. He worked at being my friend because he cared for Tessa, and when I wasn’t the man I should have been, David and Joanna took care of her as I wanted to.” His throat seemed to close. Public confession wasn’t his best skill. “I can’t repay David for that, but I still have to say thank you.” He stared at his friend’s picture and silently wished he’d been a man to measure up to David Howard.
He dropped into his seat with a thud. His cell phone rang, completely out of place. He clapped his hand over it in his coat pocket and headed for the vestry, relieved he still had a job to do.
Away from the mourners, he opened the phone and cupped his hand around the receiver. “Yeah.”
“Noah?” The half-familiar voice jittered with agitation. “Joe Worth. Noah, someone just fired a shot through the living-room window.”
“Maggie.” Her name exploded from him.
“She’s fine. Eleanor was rocking her to sleep upstairs. I was in our room, but we both heard the shot, and I came downstairs to check. I don’t know much about guns, but it looks to me as if there’s a bullet hole in the glass in that big curvy window by the door.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I called you.”
Damn the man’s doubts about the authorities. They didn’t need to make Weldon think they were trying to maneuver around him. “Did you find the bullet?” Without ruining evidence, he prayed.
“Not yet. I’ll find it by the time you get here.”
“Don’t touch anything. And call Weldon.”
“What? We’re not hurt. I don’t trust those guys. If they knew what they were doing, they’d already know who killed David, and they never would have called Joanna a dope fiend. Eleanor and I think someone killed her, too.”
Poor guy. Naturally, he didn’t want his daughter’s name smeared, but he might be risking his granddaughter’s life. “I’ll find out the truth about Joanna’s accident, but you have to trust the police. I can’t do anything without their help. I’m out of my jurisdiction, so you have to call Weldon.”
“I—”
“Whoever shot at the house probably knew Maggie was there.”
Joe gasped. Impatiently Noah counted his own breaths while he waited for the other man to face reality.
“I’ll call, but you’re coming?”
“As soon as I get Tessa.” He whirled, inspecting the church for security weaknesses. The painted glass offered some cover, but what if the shooter didn’t intend to content himself with potshots at a window? What if he liked threatening funeral parties, as well?
Slipping on the polished tile, Noah skidded into the church again. Only Tessa and the minister, intoning a prayer, didn’t turn around. Everyone else stared. Somewhere a purse hit the floor.
Noah had no time to show respect. “Excuse me, sir.”
The minister looked up, and Noah found he didn’t want to frighten Tessa. He had no choice. “Joe phoned in an incident at your house. Someone shot at the living-room window.” He veered his gaze toward Weldon. “Someone took a shot at Tessa’s house.”
“Maggie—?” Tessa asked.
“—is fine. So are Joe and Eleanor, but we need to go.” He turned to the others. “I’d advise you all to go home, as well—at least to stay out of the open.”
“This is a police matter!” Weldon shouted.
“Yes, but it’s Tessa’s house.” Without a word, Tessa came to him. He held out his hand, and she took it. Together they were stronger than either of them was alone. He’d been wrong about her. She had nothing to prove about needing no one. She knew when to need.
Hand in hand, they were running down the aisle when Weldon’s radio crackled. A near-hysterical dispatcher shouted his name. Joe must have dialed 911.
CHAPTER SIX<
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THE SECOND NOAH STOPPED the car, Tessa bolted into the house, where Weldon, who’d traveled faster with lights and sirens, met her at the door and all but pinned her against the wall.
“Naturally, you’ll refuse to tell me who did this.” He stood so close his bad breath and cheap aftershave turned her stomach.
Face the man, she told herself. She wasn’t trying to hide anything from him. “I don’t know who shot at my house, and I have to see Maggie.”
“Don’t touch that wall. We need to dust for fingerprints.” He grabbed her wrists before she could flatten her palms against the cool plaster.
She forced herself to relax rather than fight, but Noah stepped between them, pulling her away from the other policeman. “Back off and hunt for a viable suspect. How was she supposed to shoot at her own house while she was at David’s service with you and your officers?”
For once, Tessa took grateful shelter in the warmth of Noah’s larger bulk. When she pointed out the obvious to Weldon, she sounded like any other suspect, trying to turn doubt from herself. Noah’s experience spoke more convincingly.
But Weldon eyed him with a competitor’s frustration. “You and I both know she could have hired someone to drive by and plug a window while she was out.”
“And risk Maggie’s life? You’ve lost your objectivity.” With slight pressure on her hand, he urged Tessa farther into the living room.
She followed his direction. Her need to see Maggie screamed inside her head, and she was relieved to let Noah handle Weldon.
“Stop,” the police chief said.
She took a deep breath. From upstairs, Maggie let loose with one of her excited giggles. Relief broke Tessa’s tension, leaving her barely able to keep from dashing up the stairs as she waited for the police chief’s next move.
“Don’t touch any part of the house, and don’t touch anything you don’t have to in your rooms. Just pack clothes you’ll need for tonight and maybe tomorrow. This house is a crime scene.”
