Wilhelmina clicked her tongue, drawing Tess’s attention her way. The smile that pulled her painted pink lips was indulgent.
“Mase is a good boy,” she confided warmly. “If you let him, he’ll take care of you. You’ve got nothing to worry about, sug.”
Tess knew that Wilhelmina was trying to reassure her. If she thought she was in trouble last night when she first encountered the deputy, that was nothing compared to the mess she was in now. Her husband was gone, she was trapped in this place, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Apart from giving consent for Jack’s autopsy, all she’d done was answer the sheriff’s endless questions until she nearly confessed to the crime just so the insistent redhead would finally shut up.
As far as Tess was concerned, worrying was the only thing she could do. And she didn’t want Mason’s help. She’d spent the last year letting Jack take care of her. It was her turn to do some of the caring.
“I just want to go home,” she said. “Will I be able to go soon?”
“‘Fraid not, sugar. Can’t spring you until we get the sheriff’s okay.”
“And you said she'd be returning soon?” Tessa pleaded with Willie with her gaze. Please let the sheriff be almost back. If she wasn't freed from the station soon, she might actually earn a night in the cell.
“Should be. Sit tight, okay? I can’t imagine you’ll be here much longer.”
As much as she wanted out, Tess wasn’t looking forward to seeing Sheriff De Angelis again. The woman had been thorough and exhaustive with her questions. By the time she was done, Tess’s head was so muddled and confused, she was seriously beginning to wonder if she was the one who strangled Jack.
The only thing she knew for sure was that her husband was dead and someone was responsible. It was obvious that the sheriff wanted her to be guilty. After three hours of intense questioning, she would’ve confessed to anything for just a moment’s peace.
Hearing Judy Garland croon Over the Rainbow had calmed her enough that she was fairly certain she couldn’t have killed her husband while she was locked in the holding cells overnight. That was now. If Sheriff De Angelis started to interrogate her again, she might crumble.
She needed to get the hell out of there.
Mason returned a few minutes later, rubbing the back of his neck as he clipped his communicator on his belt. He was frowning, though he tried not to let Tess see.
After exchanging a pointed look with Wilhelmina, he announced, “Sheriff is on her way in. Wil, she says she’s taking over for you. Once she’s back, you can go home to your kids.”
“Thanks, sugar. Bev is watching her younger brothers but I’d like to have supper with them if I can.”
“Five minute warning buzz. She’s almost here.” Turning to look at Tess, she could see the slight strain on his face. “We’ll have to save our game for later, miss. Come on out of the cell. She wants to talk to you again.”
Tessa’s stomach dropped. She knew this was coming. At least, once the sheriff was done, she would be able to go. She wasn’t quite sure where she would be going to—and she didn’t care as long as it was far away from the Hamlet Inn.
All she had to do was get through another round of questioning. If the sheriff didn’t charge her, she’d have to let her leave. Right?
After gathering the scattered cards together, she handed the deck to Wilhelmina. Mason stayed by the open cell, his back resting up against the bars, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were narrowed on the door at the other end of the station house.
When the sheriff finally stormed into the station a few minutes later, she wasn’t alone. And Tessa understood Mason’s sudden shift in mood.
Tall, dark and lean, the man with the sheriff was beautiful. Not how she would normally describe a man, it was the first word that popped in her head. With chiseled features, long, dark eyelashes and a pair of lush lips, his good looks positively stunned her. He had coal-black hair, cut short on the side, longer in the front. Having parted it precisely on the left side, each strand looked like it was perfectly in place.
His eyes were like diamonds, as cold and as hard as ice. Already a pale blue color, his olive skin tone made them seem unnaturally light. She was captivated by his gaze. Tess knew she was staring. Everyone in the station could tell that she was entranced by his unexpected appearance. Who was this man? What was he doing here?
And then she remembered.
The eyes—she would never forget icy eyes like those. The man, the dark-haired man who stood with the sheriff over Jack’s dead body. The doctor.
It was like there was no one else in the room except for Lucas and Tessa. He headed straight for her, his hand outstretched. Caitlin trailed behind him, though she didn’t try to stop him as he ignored the two deputies, all of his attention entirely on the outsider.
“Hello.” His voice was pleasant, with only the faintest hint of some exotic accent that she couldn’t quite place. “We weren’t properly introduced before. My name is Lucas.”
She took his hand. “Tessa Sullivan.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Sullivan. I very much regret that we’re all meeting under such circumstances.”
While Wilhelmina murmured her sympathies softly and Mason hovered protectively right behind Tessa, Caitlin scowled at the point where Lucas still held her hand. Envy flashed in her glassy green eyes, her thin lips twisted in the ugly expression she didn’t bother to hide.
Her voice, however, was cordial and professional. “Mrs. Sullivan, would you mind stepping outside with me?”
Tessa’s shoulders slumped. She let her hand slip out of Lucas’s, holding it to her chest as if it could protect her. “More questions.” It was a flat statement.
“Of a more delicate matter,” the sheriff confirmed. “The doctor’s finished his work for the evening. I wanted to talk to you about that.”
His work. On Jack. Using the same hand she just shook in greeting, this man had tended to her husband. She felt like she was going to throw up. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”
With a wide-eyed stare, she glanced at Wilhelmina and Mason. She felt much safer with them then she did with Sheriff De Angelis.
Except De Angelis didn’t seem to want to have this conversation with an audience. It was possible she was trying to keep this as painless as she could; despite the relentlessness of her questions earlier, Tess got the impression that the sheriff, for all her barking, really only wanted to do the best job possible. It would be an insult to Hamlet if she didn’t.
Once they were out of sight, Wilhelmina sighed. “Poor kid. I can’t imagine how hard this has gotta be for her. Stop off for a visit and end up a widow. I know I’ll sleep better when our Caity figures this whole mess out. I can hardly believe it myself. A murder in Hamlet.” She shook her head. “Never in all my years.”
“It’ll be easier on her once the boss stops treating her like a prime suspect,” Mason pointed out. “Anyone with eyes can see that she’s innocent.”
“Sometimes the prettiest face can hide a monster.”
“That’s true,” Mason said, agreeing with Lucas, “but that doesn’t explain how she could pull off a murder job when I pulled her over for drinking and driving last night. I kept her in the holding cells until Sly sprang her this morning. No way she could’ve snuck out, even if I believed she had the strength to throttle her husband. Doc, you looked over the body. What do you think?”
“Whoever did that to Mr. Sullivan had to be very strong indeed.”
Mason jabbed his finger into the air. “Exactly!”
“Maybe it was a good thing you locked her up last night, Mase,” Wilhelmina told him. “Can you imagine what would have happened if she was there?”
Willie’s question had them all thinking about it. Maybe having two outsiders to contend with would have given whoever did this a second to pause. Or maybe Lucas would’ve been working on two dead bodies that morning.
With a rough shake of his head, Mason pushed the gruesome t
hought away. “That’s why it’s so important that I find her someplace solid to sleep tonight. Someplace safe. She’s terrified of the inn now and I don’t blame her. I asked the sheriff if I could put her up at my place. I’ve got the room.”
Lucas didn’t like the way Wilhelmina started to gush, telling Mason what a wonderful idea that was. Was any of Caitlin’s deputies concerned with how bad it would look to have their murder victim’s wife shacking up with a member of the department mere hours after his body was found?
Clearing his throat, catching both of their attentions, he said, “Actually, that’s why I’m here. Me and Caity came up with a better plan. We thought, since she’s an outsider, it would be better if she continued to rent a room instead of becoming someone’s roommate.”
“She doesn’t want to stay at the inn—”
“I’m not talking about the inn,” Lucas cut in. “I thought she might want to stay at Ophelia. Maria’s getting her a room ready right now.”
“Maria’s opening Ophelia back up?” Wilhelmina said. “Good for her.”
Mason slipped his hands in the back pockets of his uniform trousers. He kept his tone light, while his body language said he was anything but happy with this latest development. “And the sheriff okayed this plan?”
“She thinks it’s a great idea.”
“Okay. Maria’s place. Sure. I know where that is. I can take Tess there in my cruiser.”
Lucas expected him to offer. Didn’t mean he was going to let Walsh get away with it. “That’s good of you to offer, Deputy, but I don’t mind driving Mrs. Sullivan over. Maria’s expecting me anyway. I’m gonna take her. Caity knows.”
There was no way for Mason to argue without looking like a spoiled child. He was back on duty—he purposely put himself back on early—and Caitlin needed all hands on deck. She couldn’t spare him, no matter how much she tried to persuade Lucas otherwise. She had lost that argument back at his office. Lucas wasn’t going to let Walsh win one here.
Though his frown made his displeasure obvious, he didn’t fight Lucas.
Smart man.
Tessa didn’t even question it when Sheriff De Angelis brought her back inside and Mason announced that she would be staying at something called Ophelia. The doctor was going to drive her there and get her settled? Sure. Mason was going to stop at the Hamlet Inn and bring her her luggage now that the crime scene was processed? Why not?
It wasn’t dark out yet. Despite spending countless hours trapped inside on the sheriff’s orders, the sun was still shining but it wouldn’t be for much longer. As she stared, she could see that it was already starting its nightly descent, disappearing between the trees that lined the main road outside of the station house.
The sky was splashed in purples and pinks. It was pretty, she noted absently. And cold. It was getting chilly out. She glanced down and, for the first time, noticed the bare skin of her arms. Where was her coat?
Rubbing her arms, she glanced around the parking lot. Except for a trio of police cruisers parked together and a red car separate from the pack, the lot was empty. Where was her car? The deputy hadn’t left it abandoned on the side of the road outside of Thirsty’s, had he?
How the hell was she going to get home?
Tess turned to the doctor. “You don’t happen to know where my car is, do you?” At his blank look, she shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll worry about that later.”
Maybe it was a good thing Lucas was offering to drive. She didn’t think she trusted herself behind the wheel just yet anyway.
Lucas led her to the red car parked at the far end of the lot. It was a flashy car, sleek and shiny. Mustang, she realized, a candy apple red one. Wow. Using the remote in his pocket, he disengaged the locks and opened the door for her. Murmuring her thanks, Tess sank against the leather seat.
It felt weird to be sitting in a car that wasn’t a police cruiser. Last night, Mason helped her into the back of one. That morning, Deputy Collins insisted she sit up front when he brought her back to the Hamlet Inn. Mason did the same when he brought her back to the station. And now the doctor was giving her a ride in his fancy sports car.
Once he was sure she was comfortable, he closed her door before going around to the driver’s side. This car was his baby. He adored it so much, Caitlin claimed she was the other woman who came between them when they finally divorced.
She wasn't too far off. Lucas spared a light caress along the front of her bumper and patted the hood. That done, he slipped inside.
Tess immediately stretched her seatbelt across her body. It snagged on her breasts, the fit too tight. Fiddling with the buckle, she noticed that the doctor was watching her closely. Their eyes locked for a beat, he coughed, then turned away. Without him watching, she finally managed to loosen the belt and snap it into place.
He waited until she was settled. Looking in his rearview to make sure no one else was in the lot—and, okay, to keep from ogling his passenger—Lucas strapped himself into his seat and started the car before coasting out of his parking spot.
“So, what did the sheriff want to talk to you about?” he asked, speeding down the road. Over the years, he’d driven down this straightaway so many times, he could navigate it with his eyes closed. Same as with most of Hamlet's streets. His Mustang took the curves easily.
Tess grit her teeth, grateful it wasn't raining.
Because the alternative was freaking out over just how fast he was driving, she thought about his question. Interesting way to start the conversation. It seemed as if the good doctor didn’t want to acknowledge that she caught him staring at her boobs.
“She told me you released Jack’s body. She wanted to know what I wanted to do.” She folded her hands in her lap. There was a small bruise on her knuckle. Her thumb whispered absently over the purple mark. “I’m going to have him cremated. I don’t know if that’s what he wanted. He never said. I never asked. But the sheriff, she said I had to decide because I’m his next of kin.” Bewildered, she added, “I’m his only kin.”
Lucas turned off of Main, heading toward First. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her unfold her hands as she reached to check the fit on her seatbelt. He eased off the gas a little. “No family?”
“Neither of us had any. My parents died when I was just a kid, one after the other. Jack… he never knew his. He grew up in foster care, going from house to house until the system kicked him out at eighteen. When we met, we just clicked. I guess we both knew what it was to be alone. And now—” Her voice shook, then grew thick as the fact that she was alone again slammed into her like a truck. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Like, I know he’s dead, but I somehow manage to forget for a few minutes. And then, of course, it hurts even more when I remember. I agreed to burn my husband today, but it just doesn’t seem real. I don’t think I really understand he’s gone, you know?”
“You will,” Lucas told her. He never expected her to be so talkative considering the shocky state she’d been in inside the station, but if she wanted to confide in him, he was more than willing to offer advice—even if it wasn’t the sort a trauma survivor wanted to hear. “Let me tell you something. Nothing can bring your husband back. It’s hard to wrap your head around that now because I bet you’re willing to do anything to prove me wrong. But I’m not wrong. And when you accept that he’s gone, it’ll be even worse.”
Tessa recoiled in her seat, as if he’d reached out and physically slapped her. He felt a small twinge of pity but continued because he had to. This was important.
“It’ll suck, trust me,” he told her. “But that’s how you start to heal. And you go on because, as much as the world seemed to end for you this morning, it hasn’t. Not really. Sun comes up, sun goes down. World turns. It’s just turning without Jack Sullivan now.”
“Wow.” Tess blinked, stunned. He wasn’t wrong. Sure, he could have put it a little gentler, a little nicer. Didn’t make him any less right. And because it sounded like the doctor was intimately familiar
with the cycle of numbness, disbelief, bargaining and denial she’d been drowning in since she found Jack murdered, she didn’t say another word.
He slanted a look to his right. “Ah, jeez, I didn’t mean half of that. Okay, no, I did—but I didn’t mean to be so harsh. My patients knock me for my bedside manner all the time. I guess, if you’re looking for someone to pretty this whole tragedy up for you, you should’ve gone with the deputy.”
“No.”
“No?” His lip curled. “What's the matter, Tessa? Not a fan of the deputy?”
“It's not that— I mean, he was nice enough. But I had to get out of there. The sheriff, the deputies… the questions. My head was so full before. Hazy. I couldn't think. They wouldn't let me.”
She also didn’t think she could spend another second with Deputy Walsh right now. As kind as he was, the man hovered, like she was two seconds away from a breakdown. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew she was teetering on the edge. If she didn’t get the chance to process this all in her own way, if she couldn’t get a moment to freaking breathe, then that might be the push it took to send her spiraling into the abyss.
Tess took in a deep breath, shuddering it out on the next exhale. She bowed her head, tucking her chin into her chest as she admitted, “Your honesty is kind of refreshing. I think I needed to hear all that. It still hurts so, so bad, but my head feels a little lighter now. The sheriff couldn't get through to me. Mason, neither. But now… I'm starting to understand what happened.”
Mason. Since when did she call Walsh Mason? “And what happened?”
“Jack’s dead.” Tessa said the words with conviction. And, this time, she thought she might believe them. “So, thanks.”
Lucas blinked. “Oh. Well, in that case, I’m happy to help.”
Don't Trust Me Page 9
