#7-9--The O’Connells

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#7-9--The O’Connells Page 7

by Lorhainne Eckhart


  He took in his brother, then glanced back over to the path before turning back again. “You know what, Marcus? At any other time, I’d likely agree with you, but the thing is that I like Tessa—a lot. For years, I’ve kept a secret and watched over all of you because I didn’t know what else to do. No, I’m not letting Rita Mae tell me who I can or can’t see. She’s got some issue with me seeing Tessa?” He shook his head. “I’m not about to be scared off or threatened. So you go do your job, and I’m going to take Tessa for dinner, and then, when you have that sit-down with Rita Mae, I want to be there.”

  Marcus didn’t say anything for a second. “Fine, go have your fun, but the minute Luke is back, you’re telling everyone about what happened, what you did, and then the six of us are going to figure it out together. You’re not carrying this alone, Owen. We’re not kids anymore.”

  He knew what his brother was saying. “Fine, as soon as Luke is home,” he said, then started walking until Marcus stopped him.

  “But not before you and I talk to Mom,” he said.

  Chapter Eleven

  The way Tessa smiled wasn’t the flirty kind of smile women often gave him. It was subtle, mixed with a ton of attitude, and he was starting to see she was doing her damnedest not to reveal it as she strode toward him, carrying two paper plates bearing corn on the cob, ribs, and potato salad, the takeout she’d insisted on picking up.

  “Do you want to take a break and come down and eat?” she said, calling up to him where he stood on the extension ladder, screwing in the last screw of the gutter—which had seen better days, he noticed—with his cordless power drill. She was wearing faded blue jeans and a light green long-sleeved shirt with blotches of paint on it.

  “All done,” he said. “Can’t believe you took this down yourself, but, Tessa, it’s going to have to be replaced soon.”

  She stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding the paper plates, and he wasn’t sure what expression was on her face. “You know, I didn’t expect you to do all the work and put up my gutters for me,” she said. “What you’re putting up is way better than what I took down. My budget is limited, so I repaired what I could.”

  He sensed it again, that something, as if she felt she needed to defend her work. He tucked his cordless drill into the toolkit resting at the side of the house and reached for one of the plates she was holding.

  “Wasn’t criticizing, so don’t take it that way,” he said. “I know better than anyone that you work with what you’ve got. Just saying, you patched what you could, but you’re going to have to replace it in the near future. You can patch something only so much before it’s beyond fixing, and sometimes there’s nothing left.” He didn’t want to comment, either, on the fact that he’d basically taken over the gutter install and sent her to pick up dinner. “By the way, in case I didn’t say it, as my lack of words has been pointed out to me, thanks for picking up dinner, considering I wanted to take you out.”

  There it was again, the slight pull at her lips, the smile he could see she was fighting not to let take over that pretty face. “Well, I didn’t expect you to do all the work,” she said. “I don’t want to let you feel like the only reason I called you was to rope you into helping, because I’m capable of doing it myself. You’re welcome about dinner—even though, funny thing, when I went to pay for it, I discovered you had paid over the phone.” She gestured to him with her plastic fork before jabbing it into the potato salad. “Let’s go sit around back. Sorry, by the way, for my lack of furnishings. Budget, you know. But here’s a perfectly crooked deck that we can share.”

  He followed her around back, taking in the old deck, minus a railing. She sat on the edge of it, and he sat beside her, looking around at the yard, a decent size, overgrown in spots. It was likely on her list of things she’d be getting around to as soon as she could find the time. There was so much about Tessa he was learning now, having never had the chance to get this close to her.

  “This is fine, Tessa—more than fine. You’re building something here that’s yours. So tell me, how come you’re still single?”

  She’d just taken a bite of her ribs, and there was sauce at the edge of her mouth. He couldn’t help himself as he reached over and wiped it away with his finger. She flicked her gaze up to him, and he didn’t miss the edge of awkwardness. Then she shrugged.

  “I don’t know, Owen. Just haven’t met the right someone. Maybe it’s a lack of time, or no one has interested me enough, or my standards are too high. Take your pick. I have other things, like this house, that take up a good amount of time…” She gestured again as she rested the paper plate on her lap and wiped her hands on her napkin. “I could ask you the same thing, Owen.”

  “Guess I could say ditto,” he replied.

  She raised a brow to that as she picked up a rib and took another bite, and he dug into his own. “There you go, not elaborating. You really don’t like talking about yourself.”

  He wasn’t sure if there was a question in there, so he said nothing.

  “You know, I can’t figure out what it is that has Rita Mae calling me about you,” she said. “Before yesterday, she never brought your name up other than here and there, and now all of a sudden, after we went out for a drink and you were here for dinner, I’m getting the distinct feeling she’s trying to warn me off you in one way or another, and I can’t quite figure out why.”

  She gestured with her rib as she gazed up at him. From her expression, he could tell she was looking to solve a mystery, and he had to force himself to look out into the yard so she couldn’t read anything from him. Damn Rita Mae! What was it about her that she felt this need to tear him down after all these years? It seemed now as if she’d been waiting in the wings the whole time.

  He wondered what the hell Marcus had learned about Jackson and why he had the feeling there was something more going on behind the scenes that neither of them knew about.

  “Not sure I can help you there, Tessa,” he said. “How do you explain the inner workings of someone like her?”

  He knew he was hitting below the belt, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Rita Mae was basically holding his balls in a vise and doing her damnedest to figure out how to control him and bring him down. It was humbling. He couldn’t remember ever having been angry at someone like this before. When he glanced back over and down to Tessa, she was giving him the oddest of looks.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” She rested her paper plate on the deck behind her and wiped her hands, and he couldn’t help taking her in. He realized that every woman he’d dated, taken out, he’d compared them all to her. No wonder none of them could measure up.

  “You can, but I’m not promising to answer.”

  She didn’t smile, and another second passed before she nodded as if carefully considering what to ask instead of saying the first thing that could come out of her mouth. “Fair enough, I guess. What really happened with your family? I mean, Rita Mae keeps hinting at something, and I told you on the phone that she’s always made comments here and there, but I never paid much mind. I only realized she had issues with you, but she’s got issues with a lot of folks. When I heard she cornered you at the diner today and you left shortly after…”

  There it was, more small-town gossip. He let out a sigh and finished off the rib, then took a mouthful of potato salad, giving himself some time to figure out what to say. He reached for one of the paper napkins and wiped his hands and face as he swallowed.

  Tessa sat there so patiently and waited. Maybe that was why that edge he’d always felt with Lori didn’t exist with Tessa. There was something about her; he could just sit in companionable silence, something he wanted more than anything.

  “It’s mostly gossip, you know,” he said. “The thing about small-town stuff is that people see things and put their own spin on them. Yeah, she’s a pain in the ass, but I left because my lunch was ready to go. She pissed me off, is all, considering Marcus had another sit-down with her to
tell her to shut her mouth about Jackson’s death. She doesn’t understand discretion. That should say something, you know. As far as my family is concerned…” He stopped talking and shook his head, and all she did was reach over and press her hand to him, sliding it over his forearm. Her touch was welcome, and he didn’t miss the way her gaze softened.

  “You know what?” she said. “Forget I asked. You don’t have to say anything. Rumors, gossip… You’re a good man, Owen, even though it took a tragedy for you to give me the time of day.”

  It took him another second to understand what she was saying as she really looked at him.

  “I think you’ve got that one backwards, Tessa,” he said. “You were my first crush—until Steve Schwarkosky, that is.”

  There it was, the confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Really? Did he want to talk about the fact that his good friend had gone and asked out the one girl he’d secretly pined for after Owen shared his interest?

  “Steve knew it was you I liked. After he asked you out, he told me he had shared how I had the hots for you, and you laughed and told him no thanks, then added that I would be the last person you’d ever consider going out with. After hearing that, my infatuation for you pretty much crashed and burned.”

  For a moment, he thought she was going to start laughing. She pulled her hand away. “Steve Schwarkosky was an arrogant ass. I went out with him two times too many. Yeah, he was quick to point out your shortcomings and told me you’d said you could do anything ten times better than I could. Was I furious? Absolutely, and I may have said something about how a jerk like that would never be on my radar.”

  He stared at Tessa, then glanced back out into the overgrown yard before giving her his full attention. He had to shake his head, because Steve was known for embellishing stories, and now he wondered if this was why everything between him and Tessa had felt like a competition. There was something about this moment, as if they could quickly slip back into the distance between them, to that place where neither would act on their feelings.

  “Steve, Steve, Steve…” He shook his head. “Well, I guess I always wondered why it seemed as if you were trying to prove something to me, fighting with me, giving me the sharp edge of your temper. Now I know.”

  From the way she pulled in a breath, he could tell he’d hit a nerve. She glanced out into the yard and seemed to quietly think before giving him everything again. “Could say the same about you, Owen, always coming into a situation as if you could do it better. Every time I saw you, it was as if I could see what Steve was talking about. Did you really have the hots for me?” Amusement seemed to fill those blue eyes.

  He leaned back on his hands on the deck. “Oh, yeah. There’s just something about you, Tessa. No one can hold a candle to you. Damn Steve Schwarkosky! It seems he knew how to play it out.”

  Then he leaned in so close to her, and her gaze took in his lips. He pressed them to hers and kissed her softly, letting it linger until he heard his phone ring, and it was Tessa who pulled back.

  He swore softly under his breath. The moment could’ve been awkward, but as he pulled out his phone, he saw Marcus’s name on the screen. “It’s my brother,” he said, then pressed the answer button and stood up to take a step away. “Yeah, what is it?”

  “Just finishing up and wanted to have a word,” Marcus said. “You still at Tessa’s?”

  He glanced behind him to see Tessa sitting there on the edge of the deck, watching him. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Well, meet me at Ryan’s, because we need to talk,” Marcus replied, then hung up before he could add anything else.

  Owen took a second with his phone and then shoved it back in his pocket, knowing playtime was over. He found himself pulling in a breath and letting it out, wishing…what? That Marcus hadn’t called? That he could have more time with Tessa?

  “You have to go, don’t you?” Tessa said, though it wasn’t really a question but more a statement of fact.

  He strode closer to her, stood right in front of her, and held out his hands, and she slid both of hers into them so he could pull her up until she was standing. “I do,” he said. “Timing sucks, though.”

  He angled his head, taking her in as she slid her hand over his chest. He rested his hand over hers and then leaned in and pressed a kiss to those lips again, which felt better than he’d imagined. Then he pulled back, taking a second to stand with her, feeling her heat, her closeness. Something about her seemed to settle him in ways he didn’t think he could’ve explained to anyone.

  “I’ll call you,” he said, then stepped away and started around the house.

  She called out to him teasingly, “You make sure you do, Owen.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Dark was starting to settle in as he pulled up in front of Ryan’s house, seeing the sheriff’s cruiser was parked back in front of Marcus’s across the street. He stepped out of his van and took in Ryan’s park ranger pickup in the driveway behind Jenny’s small Cherokee. Both brothers were waiting for him on the front porch.

  He looked right and left as he strode up the sidewalk. The door to the house was open, but Karen, Suzanne, and his mom didn’t appear to be there.

  “Mom had Suzanne and Karen over at her place tonight, considering Marcus is working on the case,” Ryan said. “She has insisted we all show up at Marcus’s tomorrow, though.”

  Marcus, who was still in uniform, said nothing as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

  “So what’s going on?” Owen finally said.

  Marcus glanced over to Ryan, and for a moment, neither said anything. He wondered if Marcus had said something about their mom. Maybe his brother knew now.

  “Ryan had a run-in with PJ Moore earlier,” Marcus said. “You know, Jackson’s father.”

  Owen waited another second as Marcus dragged his gaze over to Ryan, who was dressed casually in blue jeans and a faded shirt, with bare feet, holding a beer. He glanced back to the open screen door, and Owen thought he could hear a TV on inside.

  “He’s upset, rightfully so,” Ryan said. “He had one of the kids from the school cornered, Petey Krantz. He had tracked him down on his ATV. Not sure all that was said, but PJ scared the crap out of that kid. He had him down on the ground, pinned up one of the trails. Looked like he’d followed him or something. I don’t know. He said he’d do his own investigation and wasn’t about to depend on the sheriff’s office here.”

  Owen looked from Ryan to Marcus and back. “Well, the Moores, as I’ve been reminded, have a way of finding their own answers and fixing their own problems. Was the kid hurt?”

  Marcus gave him everything, and he wondered if this was why he had called him over. “Scared, more than anything. I need to stop on by in the morning and have a word with PJ. When I went over to Hunter’s tonight, the parents and the lawyer were there. Apparently, PJ had a talk with Hunter, as well—you know, the kind of talk where he demanded answers and said the kid would find himself six feet under otherwise.”

  “And?” Owen gestured between his brothers, wishing Marcus would just spit it out.

  “We know that Hunter Rowse’s father is taking prescription pain pills, you know, opioids,” Marcus said. “At the same time, they outright denied the opioid that Jackson took could be from those pills. The Rowses and their lawyer have basically pulled up the drawbridge to protect their kid. I did ask about the pills, and the father said they were all accounted for.”

  “But you don’t believe him,” Owen said.

  Marcus shook his head. “Just something about people. You know that feeling you get when you know someone is lying? But it seems the family and the lawyer were interested in having me shift the focus somewhere else. You know, about the idea of running naked around the school, fingers are being pointed Alison’s way. Hunter’s saying it was all on her.”

  “Oh, it gets better,” Ryan said. Now Owen could tell what he had been picking up on from Ryan: the tension of a pissed-off father who w
asn’t going to take this lying down.

  “Was it her idea?” Owen said, looking at Marcus and Ryan, and then the door to the house opened again, and Jenny stepped out.

  “She won’t come down,” she said. “She’s still locked in the bathroom. Ryan, she’s done a lot of things, but I know when my daughter’s lying and when she’s not. She’s furious that someone would say it was her idea to run around the school naked, as if she could recruit a group of kids to do anything. She’s the misfit, always trying not to fit in.”

  Ryan set his hand on Jenny’s shoulder and let it run over her back. Without another word to his brothers, he pulled open the screen door and stepped inside, calling out, “Alison, come on down here!”

  Owen took in the expression on Marcus’s face. He was tired, pissed off, and maybe done with being sent around in circles.

  “I’m not kidding, Marcus,” Jenny said. “If she said she didn’t do it, I believe her.”

  “I know, Jenny, but I still need to talk to her. These kids, all of them, are really beginning to piss me off, sending me in circles, pointing the finger at someone else. All we need now is for PJ to show up here because someone’s throwing Alison’s name out. The way this is going, someone else is going to get killed, and I don’t want that on my watch. A kid died because of a stupid-ass prank—or was it something more? I don’t know, but the lying and evading bullshit that’s happening with these kids is making me think more than a few know what’s going on. You should know Belinda also pointed the finger at Alison during Harold’s visit there tonight. Her parents were also waiting with their lawyer, and she gave the same account, word for word. Seems as if the kids and families got together to get their stories straight.”

  He heard footsteps on the stairs inside, and then the door squeaked open and Alison stepped out first, her face blotchy from crying and her mouth pinched tight with teenage attitude. She was barefoot in shorts and a bulky T-shirt, her arms crossed. Yeah, she wasn’t giving in easy.

 

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