Pulling back her shoulders, Tessa sucked in her stomach as long as she could, hoping the extra pounds would melt away. When the air gushed out of her mouth, the stomach reappeared.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Heather’s hysterical bird-like voice rose above the patter of her little sock feet in the hall. Tessa stepped out of the bathroom just in time for Heather to collide into her legs. She encircled her mother’s legs and held tightly. “A long star just fell into the backyard! I promise!” Her little curly head looked up at Tessa, eyes wide with wonder and fear. “I amn’t telling’ a story either, Mommy!” Heather squeezed her mother again and laid her soft cheek firmly against Tessa. Tessa couldn’t help but smile at the invented word “amn’t”. She and Robert never allowed the word “ain’t” so Heather had invented a word to replace “am not” by using “amn’t”. It was too adorable to correct. Then there were the imaginative stories she liked to create like a star falling in their backyard.
Tessa gently touched her precious baby on the head and paused long enough to feel the softness of Heather’s long reddish brown hair. None of her children looked like her. She thought all her children would be blond and blue eyed, but they had taken the dark good looks of their father. “Did you make a wish? When you see a falling star you can.”
The little girl’s body relaxed as she grabbed Tessa’s hand and pulled her toward her bedroom. “I get a wish? Come help me!” She began to hop and twist to the point that Tessa could hardly keep from tripping.
“Everything alright, Tessa?” Robert and Mr. Feldspar had come inside to sit at the kitchen table to escape buzzing mosquitoes. They were already making progress on their T-bone steaks and adding butter with ranch dressing to their potatoes.
“I had to help Heather make a wish on a falling star. Saw one fall in the backyard, she said.” Tessa couldn’t help but smile at Heather’s insistence. “I don’t guess you saw anything before attacking those steaks.”
The men chuckled and the meal progressed leisurely without any more interruptions. The children were soon asleep and Mr. Feldspar didn’t stay long after dinner, saying he still had some work to do back at the hotel before turning in for the night. He thanked the Scotts for their hospitality and took his leave.
Robert helped Tessa clear the table while chatting about the account that Mr. Feldspar would be bringing to the law firm where he’d been made a partner. It was obvious from Tessa’s quiet, cool demeanor that she was going to sulk until he apologized again and focused on how special she was to him.
“I love you, Tessa.” Robert tried to slip an arm around his wife but she dodged him and began wiping off the table.
“You love what I can do for you, Robert. When you love someone you see them for what they are all the time. To you I’m a playmate for the kids, and someone to cook your meals and entertain your clients, and of course, have sex with you when you want!” Tessa said sadly.
“That’s not true,” Robert snapped, offended that maybe she’d been partially correct and thrown it in his face. “I’m taking you on a vacation aren’t I?”
Tessa stopped wiping the table and glared up at her husband of twelve years. “Some vacation. You rent a cabin. I still cook and clean and watch the kids while you fish.”
“If you feel that way just stay home. I’ll take the kids. How hard can it be?” he said throwing up his hands. “I’ll teach them a whole lot more responsibility than you do, that’s for sure. You stay home and decorate, have tea with the girls and talk about how rough you have it!” Robert wasn’t aware that his voice had grown louder or that his left eye had begun to twitch with irritation.
For an instant Tessa froze, thinking of Robert taking care of the kids for two weeks without her. That was terrifying! She nearly started to apologize, then remembered the “how hard can it be” comment and decided to swallow her fear. In the calmest voice she could muster Tessa spoke. “Alright.” The word sounded as if it had gone on forever; like when you call out into a canyon and you hear the echo for an eternity. “If you’re sure, Robert.”
Robert straightened up his hunched frame so fast it looked as if someone had slid a rod down the back of his shirt. Something like panic flashed in his eyes and he quickly tried to cover his lack of confidence, but not before Tessa saw the truth. Slowly she smiled, as she stepped toward her husband who now decided to back away from her. “I’ll just lay around the house in my pjs.” Her voice had taken on that southern drawl from childhood and her head slightly tilted so that the light sparked her pale blue eyes. “I’ll take long baths, eat junk food all day, and call my momma twice a day.”
“Humph! Just like every day!”
“That’s right, Robert. I’m just another lazy housewife who doesn’t have a lick of sense!”
Robert knew when her voice got deeper into that southern thing, he’d cooked his goose. The thought occurred to him that maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew. If only he hadn’t offered to let her stay home. He almost begged her to come along but thought better of it when he jerked up his chin in defiance. “It’ll be great to get to be mom and dad to the kids. They’ll probably remember this vacation forever!” he bragged nervously.
Tessa chuckled wickedly as she threw her towel in the sink and brushed past him. “I think truer words were never spoken, Robert.”
“Where are you going?” Robert began flipping off light switches.
“To bed. I plan to have an exciting day tomorrow.”
Chapter 2
Sommersview was a quiet street in a gated subdivision that spoke of up and coming new money. Each lot was at least an acre and every unique house made of brick or stucco boasted a minimum of twenty five hundred square feet of living space. All the houses had fashionable, well-manicured lawns, sprinkler systems, and some even an in ground swimming pool. The exception was the two story Victorian house that appeared to be out of sync with the neighboring trend of California chic. Old-fashioned roses bloomed profusely. Marigolds, so thick they looked like a yellow carpet, grew alongside the circular driveway. Black-eyed Susans, zinnias, periwinkles, all clustered together formed the beginnings of an English cottage garden. This home had no brick or stucco, just the timeless beauty of a bygone era. Although the house was obviously new, care had been taken to make the exterior speak of maturity.
Chase Hunter caught himself remembering his grandmother’s house in Edwardsville, Illinois and the times he’d played on her big front porch as a boy. But the moment faded as quickly as it had come when Chase saw the Scott family fill the yard with excited children, suitcases and fishing poles.
“Looks like we’re in luck, Tony! They’re leaving on a trip.” Chase watched the monitor in the rear of the nondescript, white van. “What’s with the kisses and hugs, folks? Get going!” he moaned. “The mom doesn’t appear to be going.” He clenched his fist and banged it down on the metal shelf protruding out over his legs.
“Take it easy, Chase!” Tony peered closer at the monitor and smiled. “Kind of a looker, don’t you think?”
“There may be a bomb over there, remember? Get your brains out of your pants for once.” Chase glanced over at the smirking agent and frowned. “Seriously.”
Tony only shrugged as he leaned back and checked his gun strapped under his arm. “Good thing the police got that tip last night about some kind of fireworks going off in the neighborhood or we could be in deep…”
“Why the hell isn’t she going with them?” Chase was a people watcher. It didn’t take him long to know something was amiss with the “Cleavers.” Their body language spoke volumes. The little girl clung to her mother with one arm while wiping at a tear with the other as the mother kissed and spoke lovingly to her. The man patted his daughter, and then took her to her car seat where she was snuggly fastened in. He then turned and kissed his wife shortly on the lips, said something, then quickly jumped in the SUV and backed out of the driveway where he disappeared down the street and out of the subdivision.
Tony looked more
closely at the monitor. “I know one thing for sure-if that sweet thing was my wife, I wouldn’t be just givin’ her a peck on the mouth.”
Chase watched the woman stand rigidly as her family faded from sight when he realized she was staring at the van. A bewildered look caused her brow to crease as she shaded her eyes to block the glare of the warm California sun. But in a moment she’d come to terms with whatever tumbled in her imagination and retreated into the house.
“Whoops! We’ve been made, Chase. Mrs. Scott is phoning the police!” Tony grinned and patched into her phone line. “Grass Valley police. Yes. Not a problem. We’ll send a car around right away.” Tony disconnected. “She could be trouble.”
“Move the van down the street. Have Thomas bring the truck around and I’ll get in after I have a look around. Police reports say something shot into the sky and disappeared in this area. This place would be on the right trajectory for it to land.”
Tony started the van. “Too bad we didn’t get the report until this morning. Whoever shot that thing off was long gone by the time Enigma raided the house. If we hadn’t got a lucky break about that missing radioactive material in L.A. we’d never even give this a second look. Finger prints are being run but the boss doesn’t expect they were that sloppy.”
“Probably burned their prints off before they started the job.” Chase frowned. “Looked like whoever it was left in a hurry. Neighbors didn’t seem to know much about them but why would they? That section is made up of blue collar workers. This area,” Chase lifted his chin as he stared at the Scott house, “smells of money, nannies and once a week gardeners. Our little Grass Valley housewife over there can smell trouble a mile away. She’s probably president of the neighborhood watch committee.”
Satisfied that the police would take care of the suspicious van across the street, Tessa eyed the swaying flowerbeds in the backyard with pride. Hard work and a green thumb had transformed a lifeless space into a calming retreat that her family cherished and friends admired. The explosion of reds, yellows and purples breathed life into every corner of the acre she called home. White vinca and snow-on-the-mountain outlined every mulched bed and walkway. The tall white picket fence separated the Scotts from a grouchy neighbor, but even he could often be spotted admiring the beautiful, almost wistful atmosphere that Tessa had created. It was during this moment’s pause that something caught her eye in the flowerbed. Whatever it was, the sun bounced off its metallic finish and caused Tessa to squint.
Walking to the object sticking out from one of her prized tea roses, Tessa began to imagine that this must be another one of Daniel’s new inventions. Roughly, she fished it out and held the two-foot missile-like structure in her hand. If it had been Sean Patrick’s, the toy would have been a gun, G.I. Joe or some futuristic weapon. Daniel on the other hand would insist his creation have lights, a whistle, and obnoxious noises and would most likely have a computer adapter. His argument would be that this toy would eventually have a higher purpose for the good of mankind. At least that’s what he tried to tell her every time they went to Toys R Us or a computer store.
Tessa turned it over, examining it closer. Definitely Daniel’s. The lights were flashing and a ticking sound made the projectile vibrate in her hand. She couldn’t remember buying this toy or a kit to make such a thing. There didn’t seem to be an off switch and the humming was getting a little too high pitched for her liking. Nonchalantly, Tessa hit it with the heel of her palm. The ticking and humming stopped but a slight vibration continued.
“Great! I broke it,” she moaned. Once more she hit the toy with her fingertips. This time it shut down with a hiss.
“You need to control those boys of yours,” fussed the neighbor, Mr. Crawley. “They make too much noise!”
“Yes, Mr. Crawley.” Tessa could hardly contain the giggle that threatened to escape her lips as she eyed the grouchy neighbor leaning over the fence so that the sun glistened off his partially baldhead. He began a litany of complaints so that Tessa finally rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed. She was sure that he must complain that Santa Claus possessed too great a giving spirit. “Sorry, Mr. Crawley.” Tessa continued to tolerate the daily borage of complaints because the old man lived alone and was a Korean War veteran. Her grandfather, had he been alive, would have approved. Deep down, she knew it was Mr. Crawley’s way of getting her attention. His next comment however, took her by surprise. “You should’ve gone with your husband!” He shook his finger angrily at her. “A woman shouldn’t stay home alone.”
Tessa made some excuse to escape and headed back to the house carrying the toy only to drop it clumsily onto the floor as she entered the mudroom. She wiped her feet, picked up the toy and carried it into the family room where she tossed it into the toy basket near the fireplace. Just as she placed her cup of morning coffee into the microwave the doorbell chimed.
“Yes?” Tessa eyed the man as she tried to see where the missing white van had gone. But her eyes landed on the brown pickup in her driveway with the logo “CIA Plumbing.”
As Chase gazed into Mrs. Scott’s tranquil blue eyes he seemed to lose his voice. She reminded him of a painting he’d once seen in the Art Institute of Chicago. His thoughts jumbled and his heart began to pound. The unexpected sensation made him feel awkward. His eyes drifted up to her windblown blonde hair that hinted at unruly curls, and then slid down to her small nose and moist lips that looked too perfect for a housewife with three kids and a mortgage. His eyes continued to travel down her body noticing the curves a man could get lost in. Mrs. Scott certainly didn’t subscribe to thinner is better.
“Yes?” she repeated impatiently.
“You called for a plumber?” Chase’s good old boy voice was a little overdone.
“Three weeks ago.” She guarded the door as if it were Fort Knox. “And I didn’t call CIA Plumbing.”
“I know. The service you called is sumped,” he laughed at his bad joke, especially after she didn’t seem amused. “Plumbers have to hand out some of their load. You got me.”
Tessa eyed him cautiously. He was too handsome to be a plumber and she was sure his faded jeans weren’t going to slide down over the crack of his butt when he crawled under a sink. “What does CIA stand for?”
Again the good old boy laugh. “Central Intelligence Agency. Thought it’d make people trust me.” His grin was disarming.
“Clearly you’re a little out of touch with what is trustworthy. Do you have a card?”
As Chase fumbled for a business card the voice in his ear remote spoke, “Jeeze! Are you sure she doesn’t work for us?” Tony sounded concerned his buddy wasn’t going to get inside the house. What was Chase doing? He didn’t usually stall for time. “The bomb is definitely in or around the house, Chase. Be careful. Thomas and I got your back if she spanks you.” Chase frowned at hearing both men chuckle.
“Here ya go. Look lady, I got lots to do. If ya don’t need me now, fine! He took out a work order from his pocket. “You Mrs. Scott?”
“Yes.”
“What’ll it be?”
Tessa read the card and stepped aside for the cocky plumber to enter.
“Upstairs bathroom. There’s a leak under the sink and I think there’s another one in the powder room,” she pointed down the hall, “down there. I hear this drip in the wall too.”
He held up a tough looking hand for her to be silent. “Enough. One thing at a time.” Chase started up the spiral staircase and disappeared from Tessa’s sight.
She frowned as a sigh escaped her lips. A fleeting thought occurred to her about calling the number to check on the plumber but then her eyes fell on the gallons of paint Robert had brought in for her. Stacked on the dining room floor, along with brushes, drop cloth and edging tape, it gave Tessa a sense of dread. This didn’t look like much fun and she certainly wasn’t in the mood to get started. Today would be a free day. No kids. No husband. No counting calories. No problems.
Tessa could hear the brown-eyed plumbe
r in the kids’ bathroom as she retrieved her cup of coffee from the microwave and leaned against the counter. Her mind drifted to her family and she wondered what they were doing. Already she doubted her decision to stay home. Her soul was empty without her precious family.
“Dad, she’s going to hurl!” shouted Daniel as he tried to edge away from his sister in the backseat.
Robert heard a disgusting liquid sound hit the back of his seat. The smell of vomit filled the car instantly along with the soft cry of his daughter and the moans of his sons. Fortunately he’d reached the overlook at Donner Pass. A sarcastic thought of the Donner Party turning their noses up at wanting to eat his family crossed his mind as he jumped out of the car and opened the door to inspect the mess his daughter had created.
“I’m gonna be sick too!” Daniel flung open his door and gagged over the edge of the rock wall lining the overlook. Sean Patrick was soon beside him gagging as well.
Robert stared at the pink, lumpy explosion on the back of his seat, Heather’s lap and her clothes. She reached out to him and he froze. His first thoughts were, “Yuk! I’m not touching that.” But then he carefully reached in and released her from the small car seat, lifting her carefully to the ground. “There, there, sweetie. Daddy will get you some water and some clean clothes.” As he began damage control he heard Tessa’s words of warning. “Don’t feed them greasy fast-food for breakfast. It sometimes makes them sick.”
“We’ll keep this our little secret from your mother, huh kids?” Robert coaxed as they began on their way once more.
Sean Patrick, sitting in the front with his father, crossed his arms as if in protest. “We’ll see how the rest of the trip goes. Sure wish Mom was here.”
“So do I,” thought Robert in dreaded anticipation of the next two weeks.
Chase searched through the bedrooms and the baths upstairs with no luck of finding the weapon. The Enigma Agency hadn’t wanted to alarm the neighborhood or the town. The news media could make any dangerous situation into a circus. Whatever happened at the garage that caught on fire a street over the night before was still a bit of a mystery. Evidence indicated a possible bomb had been launched. This place appeared not to have suffered any recent trauma other than a floor littered with toys and ballet slippers. He listened carefully for a ticking sound but only heard the soft humming of Mrs. Scott downstairs stirring happily in the kitchen. Was that the smell of cookies baking? He tapped the earpiece roughly. “Nothing, Tony. Any signals?”
An Unlikely Hero (1) Page 2
