The House on Main Street

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Let’s get in the truck and get back to the house. Then you can say whatever you need to.”

  She held Alex’s hand tight until he was buckled into the middle of the bench seat. Then she crowded in beside him, relief making her weak and dizzy. God, she’d been so scared. More terrified than she’d ever been in her life.

  Cade was on his cell phone as he slid behind the wheel. She heard Alex’s name, but her teeth were chattering so loudly that she missed the rest.

  Apparently she was the only one out of the three of them who hadn’t thought to leave the house prepared for the snow.

  “Cold?” Cade asked, flicking up the heater. She held her hands close to the vent, but if there was warm air coming out, she couldn’t feel it.

  “A little.” She made a lie of the words by shivering so violently, she knocked Alex sideways.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, her hand on his shoulder. His coat was soaked with snow and rain. “Are you cold, buddy?”

  “If he is, he’ll warm up quick enough when Gertrude tans his hide,” Cade muttered.

  He pulled into the snow-covered driveway, his headlights slashing across the porch. Gertrude was standing there, a blanket thrown over her shoulders, a hat pulled low over her head, little puffs of hair sticking out from beneath it. She hurried toward them as Tess opened the truck door and helped Alex out.

  “My God, son! What were you thinking?” she rasped as she dragged him into her arms. There were tears on her face and a hazy cloud of smoke around her head. She must have tossed the cigarette when she saw them returning.

  A patrol car pulled up to the curb, and the officer from the tea climbed out.

  “That was quick, Cunningham,” he said, eyeing Alex and Gertrude before his gaze shifted to Tess. “Looks like everyone is in good shape. Guess I should go back to the office and write out the report.”

  “You come in for a cup of coffee first, Max,” Gertrude called. “Paperwork can wait until after that.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He smiled into Tessa’s eyes.

  A few years ago, that kind of smile would have melted Tessa’s insides. Now it just made her want to laugh. Guys like him were a dime a dozen. Good looking, charming, arrogant.

  “Come on, Alex.” She took her nephew’s arm and led him into the house, moving to the side as everyone else followed them in. Alex stripped out of his coat and boots as everyone watched. He carefully tucked his gloves into his pocket and walked up the stairs in a long-sleeved flannel shirt and snow pants, dripping water and ice all over the steps.

  “Don’t you go to that piano, Alex Riley! You hear me?” Gertrude charged up the stairs after him. “You’re not playing it for three days after the stunt you just pulled. As a matter of fact, I’ve a good mind to tan that little hide of yours! You took a year off my life! Years off my life!”

  Tess sprinted after them both, because she didn’t want to be left with the men, and because Alex needed to be made to understand that he could not walk out of the house in the middle of the night ever again.

  Her heart couldn’t take another scare like the one she’d just had.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cade decided to give Tess and Gertrude a few minutes alone with their nephew. It seemed like the right thing to do. Alex had made a big mistake, and he’d be lucky if he got off with the puny three-day sentence Gertrude had threatened. If Cade were his father, he’d have probably grounded Alex from the piano for a month or longer.

  “You look done in, Cunningham. Rough night at the house?” Max asked, his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed at his chest.

  “Who says I was home?”

  “Me. I drove by your place on patrol and saw the lights on and your truck in the driveway. Sad, really. Guy like you should have—”

  “What’s your point?” Cade cut him off. “Because, obviously, you have one.”

  “You seem to have a thing for Tessa. I suggest you act on it before someone else does.”

  No way would he jump on that bait. “I think we have more important things to discuss.”

  “Like how we’re going to make sure that kid doesn’t freeze to death one night while his family is sleeping?” Max switched gears easily. Not surprising. He loved women, but Cade suspected that he loved his job more.

  “They need an alarm system. Something that will go off if he tries to escape again.” Cade ran his hand over his hair, wishing Gertrude was around to offer coffee again. He’d been sound asleep when his phone rang, and he still didn’t feel wide-awake.

  With a police force the size of Apple Valley’s, it was protocol to let Cade know when important calls came in. Little things like stolen chickens and broken windows were handled without him, but missing children came under the need-to-know heading.

  “Do you think they can afford to get one?” Max glanced around the neglected foyer, probably cataloging every piece of peeling wallpaper and every nick on the wood floor.

  “Money might be a little tight, but I’m sure they’ll find a way to make it work.” He’d make certain they did, because he couldn’t stomach the thought of getting another call about Alex in the middle of the night.

  Max nodded, running his hand over a tall, narrow table that stood against the wall. Checking for dirt and dust? Knowing him, that’s exactly what Max was doing. “If they can’t, we can probably get people around town to help out.”

  “Gertrude isn’t the kind to take charity lying down, Max. If she thinks that’s what we’re offering, she’ll fight tooth and nail to keep from accepting it.”

  “You’re smart. You’ll figure a way around her.”

  “Since when is that my responsibility?”

  “Since I saw you and Tessa together.”

  Cade scowled. They were back to that. Of course. Max was like a dog with a bone, and Cade was too damn tired to play a round of fetch. “I think the family has had enough time to discuss things alone. I’m heading upstairs.”

  He didn’t invite Max.

  Max followed anyway. Wood stairs creaked under their combined weight, their booted feet adding to the wet mess everyone else had left. There were still piles of things on the landing, still an air of neglect that clung to the house. The apartment was neat as a pin, though. Everything in place, the old floor gleaming with polish, the furniture threadbare but clean.

  Alex was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of what looked like hot chocolate in his hands, Gertrude hovering over him, her face drawn and pale. Years of smoking and worry had carved a road map of lines on her face. They looked deeper, her green eyes shadowed.

  “Coffee is ready,” she said, not taking her eyes off her nephew. In all the years that Cade had known Gertrude, she’d never been quiet or demure. She didn’t know how to hold her tongue, and that had gotten her into plenty of trouble with people in town. Now she was quiet, constrained, every movement carefully plotted as if each one hurt more than the next.

  If the stories Ida told were true, and they usually were, Gertrude had lost her parents when she was a teen. A few years later, the bastard she’d married had beaten her senseless. She’d returned the favor and spent two years in jail for it. She’d moved to Apple Valley after that, gotten a job at Walmart and another at the library, living on her own until her younger sister had showed up on her doorstep with Tess and Emily. Despite her gruff exterior, despite her penchant for getting into feuds with neighbors and townspeople, Gertrude had poured everything she had into taking care of the girls. Now she was as much a part of local lore as anyone or anything.

  He put a hand on her shoulder, urging her into the seat next to Alex. “Relax for a few minutes, Gertrude.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible, Cade. I really don’t.” She glanced around the room, her hand shaking as she lifted a cookie from a plate and handed it to Alex. “Where is that niece of mine? A time of crisis like this, and she decides to hide in her room?”

  “She might be getting out of her wet clothes,” Cade suggested, an ima
ge of smooth skin and black lace flashing through his mind. His body tightened in response, heat pulsing through him.

  Not the time or the place, but, damn, if he didn’t suddenly want it to be.

  He poured coffee for Max and grabbed a cup for himself, sipping the scalding brew. Something cold might have been better. Like . . . a shower or a snow bath.

  “I have to tell you, I feel like just about the worst parent that ever lived,” Gertrude said morosely.

  “These things happen, Gertrude,” Max reassured her before Cade could. “More often than most people think. The important thing is to learn from it, and to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Alex won’t do such a foolish thing ever again, will you, son?”

  He shook his head.

  “I want words, young man,” Gertrude said gruffly, but she handed him another cookie.

  “I won’t leave the house without permission ever again,” Alex mumbled and dipped his cookie in hot chocolate. He pulled it out, dripping liquid onto the scarred tabletop. He didn’t eat the cookie. Just stared at it, watching chocolate pool beneath it.

  Gertrude sighed, taking the cookie from his hand and placing it on a small plate. “You know we don’t play with food, Alex.”

  He didn’t respond, just tapped his fingers against the table, his knees, the table again, his head nodding slightly to some silent tune.

  Poor kid. He’d been through a lot, and losing the angel seemed to be his breaking point. He’d been distraught when he’d realized it was missing, screaming and rocking and putting on a town hall show that the citizens of Apple Valley would never forget.

  They wouldn’t repeat a word of it, though; wouldn’t replay those horrible moments in their conversations. As many faults as the small town had, it was big on compassion.

  Cade dropped into the chair beside Alex, touched his shoulder, felt every muscle in the boy’s scrawny body tense. “Alex, I’m going to find that angel for you. I promise you that. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to keep looking yourself. I’ll find it, and I’ll bring it home to you.”

  “I’m tired,” he responded, slowly rising, his little body seeming to creak and groan as he shuffled out of the room and disappeared down the hall.

  “That poor boy,” Gertrude whispered. “That poor, poor boy.” A tear dripped down her cheek, meandering through dozens of wrinkles before landing on the table.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick,” Max said gently, meeting Cade’s gaze across Gertrude’s bowed head. Now is as good a time as any, his eyes seemed to say.

  “An alarm system will help, Gertrude. You can set it up to go off if anyone is walking through the store or opening doors or windows downstairs,” he suggested, and she finally looked up, her eyes hazy and tired.

  “It’s a sound idea, but I’ll have to check with Tessa. It’s her house, and she makes all the big decisions.” Gertrude walked to the hallway. “Tessa Louise, get out here!” she hollered.

  A door opened. Footsteps sounded on hardwood. Seconds later, Tess walked into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. Loose sweats rode low on her narrow hips. A tight-fitting long-sleeved T clung to her flat abs. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, the wet ends of it leaving splotches on her shirt as she moved.

  She sipped coffee, dropping into the seat across from Cade without ever meeting anyone’s eyes.

  “Well,” she finally said. “This sucks.”

  “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” Gertrude muttered.

  “We were just discussing the possibilities of having an alarm hooked up so Alex can’t wander again.” Max offered the information as he took the seat next to Tess, somehow managing to move his chair a little closer to hers in the process.

  Tess nodded, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger, her brow furrowed. “I was thinking that, too. Is there a good company in town?”

  “I have a friend in Spokane who runs a security business. He’ll know what you need. I’ll be happy to make the call for you.”

  “Thanks, but I can manage, Max.” Tess cut him off at the knees, and Cade didn’t even try to hide his smile. “If you give me his name, I’ll make the call tomorrow morning.”

  “Sure.” Max dragged a business card from his wallet, scribbled a number on it, and handed it to Tess. “Just tell him you’re a friend of mine. He’ll make a special effort to get things done quickly. If you think the price is too high or his crew doesn’t seem to be working fast enough, just give me a call. I’ll handle it for you.”

  Uh-oh. This should be good.

  Gertrude’s head came up so fast, Cade was surprised it didn’t fly off. “What did you just say, young man?”

  “I said—”

  “It might be best not to repeat it,” Cade suggested, because Tess was rubbing her temple like she had one of the migraines she’d suffered from as a kid, and his amusement at the crap Max had just stepped in was outweighed by his concern for her.

  “Go ahead,” Gertrude dared Max. “Repeat it.”

  “Well, Ms. Gertrude, I’m thinking it might be better if I didn’t.”

  “Chicken shit,” she muttered in reply, shooting him a death glare.

  “Gertrude,” Tessa interrupted tiredly. “Let it drop.”

  “Why should I? We’ve never needed a man to help us manage things, and we don’t need one now!” Gertrude snapped, her eyes blazing.

  Tessa pushed away from the table and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I have a splitting headache, and your griping is making it worse. How about we save the arguing for another day?”

  “Well,” Gertrude huffed, slamming her coffee on the counter. “If that’s the way you feel, then maybe I’ll just go back to bed.”

  She stomped out of the room and slammed her door so hard the house shook.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Tess poured more coffee into her cup and reached up into a cupboard above the refrigerator, her bare feet just visible beneath the long cuffs of her sweats. Her toenails were pink. A little detail that Cade hadn’t noticed before. “Gertrude is still really shook up. She didn’t mean to take it out on you, Max.”

  “I think she probably did,” Max said, and Tessa laughed, the sound reminding Cade of long summer days and late fall evenings, of looking into Tessa’s eyes and feeling like he was looking into her heart.

  “Apparently, you’ve dealt with Gertrude before.” Tess fumbled in the cupboard, finally pulling a bottle of Tylenol out.

  “On a few occasions, so don’t worry, I’m just taking her attitude as a sign that she’s recovered from her scare,” Max responded, giving Tess a once-over that made Cade’s fist clench. She seemed oblivious, her head bent over the Tylenol bottle as she struggled with the lid.

  “Let me.” Cade snatched it from her hand, popping the lid easily and handing it back.

  Max watched with a slight smile, his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed. “Well,” he said, “I think I should probably head back to the office and write up a report.”

  “I’ll walk you both down,” Tessa said, popping the pills into her mouth and swallowing them down with a gulp of coffee.

  Cade hadn’t said he was leaving, but he followed Tess and Max outside and stood on the porch as Max said good-bye and drove away.

  “Good night, Cade,” Tess hinted broadly.

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  “It’s late. We’re both tired.” But she walked back inside, and he followed, closing the door on the dark cold morning.

  “It’s as cold in here as it is outside,” she said, walking into the front room and flicking on the light.

  She sat on a couch near the window, her arms folded around her knees.

  “Slippers might help,” he suggested.

  “I didn’t have time to pack any, and it feels wasteful to buy something I already own.”

  “Are you going to have your stuff shipped from Annapolis?�
� He opened a couple of trunks and several boxes, finally pulling out a thick blanket.

  “Eventually. I need to send in my resignation first, though.”

  “What’s the holdup?” He sat next to her and tucked the blanket around her legs and her arms, his hands lingering a little longer than he’d intended.

  “Fear? Anxiety? I don’t really know. Gertrude is getting pissy about it, though, and I can’t keep putting my boss off when he asks when I’m returning.” She sighed, resting her head on her knees, her ponytail sliding across her cheek. He brushed it back and looked into her eyes. They seemed more purple than blue, the shadows under them dark.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Be here. Just like you are.” She smiled, and his heart responded, jumping toward her with so much force it left him breathless.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, and she lifted the blanket so that it covered them both. An invitation to move closer, if he’d ever seen one.

  He did, their bodies touching, their heat mingling, and it was like coming home after being away for too long.

  Surprised, he touched Tessa’s cheek, her skin cool and velvety. They were so close he could see flecks of silver in her eyes and the remnant of pink lipstick on her mouth. Could smell just a hint of her dark perfume.

  He bent forward, his lips brushing hers, the heat that zipped through his blood leaving him no choice but to taste her lips again and again.

  She moaned softly, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders, her fingers weaving through his hair. And then she was up, moving away, her fingers pressed to her lips, her cheeks flushed pink.

  He started after her, but she put up a hand, shook her head.

  “You’d better go,” she said, her voice husky.

  “Sure. But not before I say goodnight.” He snagged her hand, tugging her in close, because if the night was going to end on a kiss, he wanted to make damn sure it was one she’d remember.

  When he broke away, she was breathless, her eyes hazy with longing. She didn’t ask him to leave again but didn’t reach for more, either.

  Too bad, because he would have been more than happy to give it.