Defender for Hire

by McCoy, Shirlee

  Her laughter died, her eyes wide and wary.

  “Tess,” he began, but the front door of the house opened, light spilling out onto the porch.

  “Logan is finished,” she said, jumping out of the car before he could continue.

  It was probably for the best.

  He wasn’t sure what he would have said.

  God had brought him into Tessa’s life for a reason, but aside from keeping her safe, Seth hadn’t figured out what that might be.

  Not that he didn’t have some ideas.

  As a matter of fact, he had several very interesting ones.

  He shoved the thought away and got out of the car, cold air cooling his heated skin as he followed Tess across the yard.

  EIGHT

  Tessa ran up the porch stairs and skidded to a stop a foot from Logan, her heart pounding frantically. Thank goodness he’d opened the front door before she’d made a complete and utter fool of herself.

  She’d come within seconds of kissing Seth.

  And with Seth, one kiss would never be enough. She’d want more. More kisses, more time, more attention.

  More him.

  More of all the things that made a couple...a couple.

  Only she and Seth were not a couple.

  They were just two people whose lives had collided.

  “We’re not in a huge rush, Tessa,” Logan said dryly. “There’s no reason to run.”

  “I was just anxious to see if you found anything. Did you?” she asked, her pulse thudding in her ears as Seth walked up behind her.

  She could feel him there, like warm sunlight on a winter day, and she had to force herself not to turn around and look into his face. She knew what she’d see. The same thing she was feeling—confusion, excitement, maybe even a little fear.

  “I thought I’d let you tell me.” Logan’s gaze shifted from Tessa to Seth and back again. Did he sense the tension that still shimmered in the air?

  It didn’t matter. What mattered was finding the person who’d been in her house. Tessa shut out everything else. Seth. Her frantically racing pulse. “What does that mean?”

  “There’s something...strange in your bedroom.”

  Her stomach churned and her mouth went dry. “It’s not alive, is it?”

  “No. How about we go up and take a look?”

  “I’d rather you just tell me what it is,” she mumbled, but neither man seemed to hear. They were both already heading up the stairs, the old wood creaking beneath their feet.

  The last thing she wanted to do was follow them.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t think she had a choice.

  Her feet felt mired in cement, every step more difficult than the last. She paused at the landing, eying the door to her bedroom.

  Logan motioned for her to continue. “Come take a look. Just don’t touch anything.”

  That would be hard to do seeing as how her feet were permanently attached to the top stair.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Seth said, grabbing her hand and dragging her the last few feet to the bedroom door.

  Dozens of black rose petals covered her bed and trailed onto the floor around it. In the middle lay a large copy of the photo that had been in the envelope. She stepped forward, the sickeningly sweet scent of roses hanging in the air.

  Her stomach heaved, and she leaned forward, hands on her knees, eyes closed, a dozen images flashing through her head. Daniel. Andrew. Blood. Fire.

  “Take a deep breath, Tess,” Seth murmured, his breath tickling the hair near her ear, his palm cool and dry against her neck.

  “I take it you didn’t leave the room like this?” Logan asked.

  “What kind of stupid question is that, Randal?” Seth snapped, his hand sliding from Tessa’s neck to her back.

  She straightened, her heart skipping a beat as she looked at the bed, the flowers, the photograph. “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know, but I had to ask. I’m not doing my job if I don’t check every angle,” Logan responded, snapping a photograph of the bed and a close-up of the picture. He lifted it in gloved hands, studying the image for a long moment. “This is a copy of the picture you received with the tarantula.”

  It wasn’t question, but she answered, anyway. “That’s right.”

  “It was taken in Kenya?”

  “Yes.” The picture had been taken a month after they’d moved there. She’d answered the same questions the night she’d been attacked. She knew Logan remembered. She didn’t want to talk about it all again. Didn’t want to rehash all the old memories, all the old dreams. She wanted to tell him that, but her heart thrummed like a hummingbird’s wings, her breath catching in her throat.

  Seth touched her cheek. “Take a deep breath, Tess.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re going to pass out?” he muttered.

  Probably because she felt like she was going to pass out.

  Before, she could say that, she was in Seth’s arms, and he was carrying her from the room.

  “Put me down before you hurt your shoulder,” she protested.

  He ignored her, carrying her down the stairs to the old rocking chair. He set her there, pulling the throw from the couch and wrapping it around her shoulders.

  “Better?” he asked, cupping her face with both hands and studying her intently.

  “I wasn’t going to pass out,” she said.

  “Sure you weren’t.”

  “I wasn’t. And, even if I was, you shouldn’t have carried me down here. You’re going to be a mess when you come in for therapy tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think you should go to work tomorrow, Tess,” he said, his hands sliding away. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think that you staying here tonight is a good idea.”

  “I’ve been staying here every night since I was attacked. Nothing has happened.”

  “Nothing has happened until now.” Seth walked to the window, fingered the old lock. “Do you know how easy it would be for someone to break the lock on this window?”

  “No, but—”

  “You don’t have an alarm system, your backyard opens to woods, your closest neighbor is a quarter mile away. For all we know, our perp is waiting for everyone to leave before he strikes again.”

  “He’s making some good points,” Logan said as he walked into the room. “I’m going to assign a patrol car to your street, but do you have a friend you could stay with for the night?”

  Darius and Catherine would be happy to offer her a place to stay, but Catherine was five months pregnant, and there was no way Tessa was going to put her in the line of fire. She didn’t want to drag any of her friends into danger.

  So, maybe this was it.

  Maybe the time to pack her bags and move on had finally come.

  “I can leave town for a while,” she said, and both men frowned.

  “And go where?” Logan asked.

  “I...don’t know, but anywhere is better than here, right?”

  “If that’s the way you feel, then I can arrange a place,” Seth broke in. “Just give me a few minutes to make some phone calls.”

  “I can handle it myself,” she tried to protest, but he was already in the foyer and walking out the door.

  No way did Seth think that leaving town was the answer to Tessa’s problems. If she ran, her troubles would find her.

  He expected her to follow him outside, insist that she could take care of herself.

  She didn’t, and he stood on the porch, scanning the dark street as he called his boss. It only took a few minutes for Seth to get permission to use the company’s safe house.

  By the time he returned to the living room, color had returned to Tessa’s face, and she l
ooked a lot less fragile.

  “We’re set,” he told her, bracing himself for what he knew was coming.

  “Set for what?”

  “I have a place for you to stay.”

  “What place?”

  “We can discuss that on the way.”

  “I’d rather discuss it now.” She stood, swaying a little. The bruises on her neck were fading, but the circles under her eyes were deep.

  “What we really need to discuss,” Randal broke in, looking up from a small notebook he’d been writing in, “is a list of people who were on the mission trip to Kenya with you and who were affiliated with it.”

  “The organization who sponsored us would have that. Only a few people survived the massacre.” Tessa rattled off the name of the group she’d traveled with. There was no emotion in her voice, no hint of what she was feeling.

  “I’ll give them a call, see if anyone else is having the kind of trouble you are.”

  “If they are, I haven’t heard anything about it.”

  “You keep in touch?”

  “No. Not in the last few years, anyway.”

  “Then, it’s something I’ll need to check on. If there’s anything else you can tell me—”

  “There isn’t,” she said too quickly.

  “That was an awfully quick response,” Seth pointed out.

  She shrugged, her hair sliding across her shoulders, silky red against her dark coat. “Because there isn’t.”

  “I can’t help you if you’re not upfront with me,” Logan said, his gaze sharp and hard.

  “I’m being as upfront as I can be.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the same as being as upfront as you should be,” Logan pointed out. “Tell you what. Why don’t you sleep on it? Decide whether keeping your secrets is worth losing your life?”

  “I—”

  “Call me once you get her settled in, Seth.” Logan cut off her protest. He stalked from the room, the stairs creaking as he retreated.

  “Come on.” Seth took Tessa’s arm, as frustrated as Logan seemed to be.

  She was hiding something.

  It was obvious, but she seemed determined to keep her secret. No matter what it cost.

  They walked outside, her muscles tense and tight. She didn’t speak as he helped her into the truck. Didn’t ask where they were headed or why he thought it was his right to take her anywhere.

  He pulled away from the house, checking his review mirror, looking for any sign that they were being watched.

  Nothing. Not even a shadow moving in the breeze.

  “You’re quiet,” he finally said.

  “I don’t have much to say.”

  “I think you mean that you don’t have much you’re willing to say,” he responded. Unlike Logan, he wasn’t ready to let things go.

  “Maybe you’re right. And, maybe Logan is right, too, but I’ve been...quiet for a long time, and I don’t know if I can say what I need to without hurting a lot of people.”

  “So you’ll let yourself be hurt, instead?”

  She didn’t respond, and he glanced her way as he merged onto the interstate.

  She was staring out the window as if the answers she needed were somewhere out in the darkness. He could have told her that they weren’t, but he touched her knee instead, letting his hand rest there for just a moment before he pulled it away. “Tess, whatever you’re hiding, it’s going to come out eventually.”

  “I hope not,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard the words.

  He let them lie, let the truck fall silent again, because her voice had been tinged with tears, and he didn’t think making her cry was going to accomplish his goal.

  Whatever secrets she had, she was holding them close. Whether she wanted them to or not, eventually, they’d be revealed. It was the only way to keep her safe, the only way to keep her from being consumed by whatever she was running from.

  NINE

  The roads were horrible, the ice slick and shiny on the black pavement. It was so much easier for Tessa to focus on that than on the silent truck and her silent companion.

  She didn’t want to discuss her past, because there were too many pieces of if that she couldn’t reveal, but she didn’t have a death wish, either. Getting a rose once a year was one thing, being attacked, having her house broken into and her dog shot—those were other things entirely.

  Logan had been right. She needed to think things over, decide how much she was willing to sacrifice for the legacy that had been built out of the ashes of the massacre.

  She rubbed her forehead, willing away the headache that was throbbing behind her eyes.

  “You’re tense,” Seth said, kneading the muscles at the base of her neck, his fingers firm and warm and so nice that she wanted to relax against him.

  “That happens when someone breaks into my house and leaves black rose pedals all over my bed.”

  “It’s nothing to joke about, Tess.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Good, because if I hadn’t been with you when you’d returned to the house...” His voice trailed off, and he left the rest to her imagination.

  Not a good thing, because she had a great imagination. One that filled in all the words he hadn’t said. “Thanks for following me home. You probably saved my life.”

  “You can thank me by telling me about your trip to Kenya.”

  She hesitated.

  She hated talking about Kenya. Hated that everything she’d believed in when she’d lived there had died with Daniel. “It was my husband’s dream. He wanted to go and build orphanages and schools and dig wells.”

  “His dream and not yours?” He asked the question she’d been asking herself for years. One she had never quite found an answer to.

  “Sometimes I think that. Other times, I know that I was just as excited and enthusiastic as he was. We left for Africa the year after I graduated from college. Daniel thought we’d probably spend the rest of our lives there. He did. I came home alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Tessa.” Seth took her hand, his thumb caressing her wrist, the warmth of it chasing away the chill that filled her every time she thought about Daniel’s enthusiasm, his passion, his zeal for Kenya. Hers had been a pale reflection of his, a tiny shimmer compared to the bright light that had consumed him.

  “Me, too. I think this is the way Daniel would have wanted it, though. I think he’s probably happy that he died doing what God called him to.”

  “You sound bitter.”

  Did she?

  Maybe she was. “I never minded being second to God. That’s the way it should be. But...” She stopped, because saying what she was thinking felt too much like a betrayal.

  “You would have liked to have been first after Him?”

  “Daniel was a good husband.” She jumped to his defense. He had been a good husband, but he’d been a better missionary.

  “I don’t think that I said he wasn’t,” Seth said quietly. “If you thought that’s what I was implying, I apologize.”

  “Are you always so agreeable, Seth?”

  “I’d like to say that I am, but I think my family would probably disagree.”

  “You have a big family?” she asked, more than happy to change the subject.

  “Three brothers and a sister. Assorted nieces and nephews. My folks.”

  “You’re close?”

  “Sometimes too close. As a matter of fact, they hovered so much after I shipped back from Afghanistan, I had to move across the country to get some breathing room.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true. I didn’t want them wasting their time worrying about me when they all have families to take care of.” The fondness in his tone was unmistakab
le, and Tess wondered what it would be like to have that kind of relationship. From the time she was little, family was all that she’d wanted. She’d been smart enough to know that it wasn’t what she had with her parents. Married young and still partying hard, they’d had little time for their only child. When they died in a car accident, she’d been left alone. She hadn’t felt any lonelier after their deaths than she had been when they were alive.

  “How about your family,” Seth asked a he exited the freeway. “Are they around?”

  “My parents died when I was a kid. I don’t have siblings.”

  “Grandparents?”

  “No. I grew up in foster care and spent most of my teenage years being shipped from one placement to another.”

  “That must make for lonely holidays.”

  “I have friends. And Bentley.” Her life sounded...pitiful, but it wasn’t, and she wanted Seth to know that. “I’m happy with my life. I like it just the way it is.”

  “Good to know,” he responded easily.

  She pressed her lips together to keep from expanding on the joys of being alone.

  The truth was, she did enjoy her life, but she wouldn’t have minded having a family to spend time with.

  “Did you grow up in Pine Bluff?” he asked, and she wasn’t sure if simple curiosity led to the question or if he was trying to figure out the secrets he’d insisted she was keeping.

  Secrets she was keeping.

  “No. I’d never even heard of it before I attended Darius’s wedding. It’s such a nice area, I decided it would be a good place to settle down.”

  “Because you thought you could hide here?”

  “It wasn’t really about hiding. It was more about...”

  “Not getting a rose on the anniversary of your husband’s death?”

  “Yes.”

  “Contacting the authorities might have been a better way to go.”

  “Until recently, I didn’t think I was in danger.”

  “A black rose isn’t a token of love, Tessa,” he pointed out, and she knew he wanted an explanation. Some reason as to why she hadn’t been afraid for her safety.

  She couldn’t tell him. Not without revealing everything. “I thought it was just a...reminder.”