Part 16 (2/2)
Frozen. He stood frozen to his spot as she strode away. Everything in him, every thought, every belief, churned out of control. The familiarity, the pa.s.sion, the feel of her lips on his face undid him to the point of no return.
Tess wiggled the nail file in the lock of her bedroom door as quietly as possible. Her heart beat a little faster than normal. She sucked in a deep breath. If she didn't get the d.a.m.n door open in the next thirty seconds, she was going to scream.
She stepped back, closed her eyes and relaxed her shoulders. She could do this. It would be a h.e.l.l of a lot easier if it wasn't pitch dark in the room, but she couldn't risk turning on the light. It p.i.s.sed her off that Hugh still didn't trust her after working together without incident for the past couple of days.
Not that she really blamed him. But the thought of being stuck in the room one more night made her claustrophobic.
Maybe a nail file wasn't the tool to do the trick? It didn't seem to be connecting to the locking mechanism. G.o.d, she sucked at this. Good thing burglary wasn't in her job description. She tiptoed to the small desk and found a pen in the drawer. She pulled it apart so she held the thin ink cartridge topped with a ballpoint head. It slid into the tiny hole of the door handle, and after carefully pressing it just the right way, the door unlocked.
She moved down the hallway with light steps, trying her d.a.m.ndest to keep quiet. When she reached the living room, she sighed with relief. An ambient glow spilled into the room from the dim recessed lighting in the kitchen and she methodically made her way around every piece of furniture in search of anything that might help her learn more about Hugh. With his watchful eyes on her during the day, she'd barely been able to notice the types of magazines on the coffee table.
She'd kept her head down while looking around, but lifting it now to take in the room as a whole, she wondered how on earth she'd missed those. Three pictures in dark wood frames on the fireplace mantle.
The first photograph was of Hugh and another man, their arms around each other's shoulders and huge grins on their faces. The kind of grin that made her wonder what had made them so happy that day. Her gaze traveled to the next picture, a black and white candid shot so beautiful and personal she sucked in a breath. A man-the same one in the shot with Hugh-had his hand near a woman's ear, his fingers toying with her long hair. He was staring down at her, she was looking up at him, their faces mere inches from each other. Her palm lay flat on his chest, and Tess could feel the beating of their hearts inside her head. The look of adoration that pa.s.sed between them was palpable.
She didn't have to ask Hugh who the couple was. It had to be his brother and his wife. Something fluttered in Tess's stomach as she wondered what it would be like to love someone that much. Because in looking at the photo, there was no doubt they'd loved with an intensity she never had. A lump lodged in her throat. She swallowed and sidestepped to the last photo.
Her legs almost gave out as she stared at an unguarded Hugh. He sat at a formal table, wearing a tuxedo, his arm bent, a hand covering the smile she knew he wore because his eyes crinkled in the corners. His attention was on his brother and sister-in-law, whose arms were intertwined, champagne flutes in their hands, grins on their faces.
Tess backed away, almost falling over the coffee table. Suddenly, she couldn't take any more. She didn't want to know anything more about him. Because big, bad, prideful Hugh had a soft spot whether he admitted it or not. And the very real images he kept a part of his home captured something she hadn't felt since she was a little girl. Unconditional love.
With super speed, she searched the drawers of the hutch in the dining room, the cupboards in the kitchen, rifled through the stack of Sports Ill.u.s.trated magazines. She searched the closet by the front door, eyed the hardwood floor for loose floorboards.
All of it though, she did half-a.s.s, since she couldn't stop thinking about Hugh and how very human he seemed. How connected. To his brother, even though he was gone.
Where's the d.a.m.n incriminating evidence? ”Not here,” she whispered and padded in her bare feet to the front door. The second she stood outside, she inhaled sharply, the fresh air filling her lungs, loosening the tightness in her chest.
Without thinking, she wandered down the driveway, away from the house, away from Hugh. Chewing her bottom lip, she wrapped her arms around herself. A cool breeze carried the smell of pine trees to her nose. Her footsteps faltered and she stopped. Looked over her shoulder. So many emotions she didn't know how to process swirled inside her. Was the right thing to do leave? Or stay? She turned her head back around and looked at the empty road in front of her.
Go. She'd walked maybe another hundred feet, though, when something weird circulated in the muscles of her legs-resistance. She stopped again and looked up. Stars dotted the black sky. Jagged branches from gigantic trees slashed through the airs.p.a.ce like claws about to swoop down and pick her up. A chill raced down her spine.
”You really shouldn't walk at night without shoes on.”
Tess jumped at the woman's voice, both feet literally coming off the ground. People didn't sneak up on her. How the h.e.l.l had this woman snuck up on her? She was losing her skills. A harrowing thought flashed through her mind. Did that mean it was time to give up eliminating?
”Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” the woman said, as Tess turned to find an older lady wearing a plaid robe and yellow slippers.
”Blanche?” she asked, recognizing the woman's voice and a.s.suming no other seventy-something neighbor would be awake at this hour of night.
”In the flesh. You must be Tess. Nice to meet you in person.” She twisted and started toward a house barely visible through the trees in the distance. ”Follow me,” she called over her shoulder.
”What?” Tess asked, glancing at her feet before she scurried to catch up to Blanche.
”You can't get far without shoes and it just so happens we're the same size.” She picked up her pace, walking with the gait of a woman half her age.
Curiosity spurred Tess to keep up. ”What makes you think I'm going somewhere? Maybe I just needed some fresh air? Ow!” she cried, something sharp digging into the flesh of her heel.
”At one in the morning when you should be fast asleep?”
Tess didn't offer a reply.
They reached Blanche's house, a cozy log cabin with a wraparound porch. Stairs led up to the gla.s.s front door, a motion detector lighting their way the moment they hit the first step. Large pots sat everywhere, overflowing with ivy and yellow daisies, and comfort filled Tess. But when she noticed the rocking chair sitting beside a large front window, she almost gasped. It looked exactly like the one her mother had rocked her in when she was a child. It was the only way she'd fall asleep.
”Your home is lovely,” she said, closing the front door behind her. Blanche had yet to stop her forward momentum.
”Thank you. Have a seat. I'll be right back.” She waved a hand in the air and disappeared around a corner.
Tess sat down on one of two sofas, the soft chenille fabric giving way to perfect coziness. She sank into the couch and put her feet up on the leather ottoman placed between the couches. Her eyes drifted shut, and for a few minutes she let her mind go blank. Worried she might actually fall asleep, she forced her lids open and took in the room.
A beautiful, but empty china cabinet sat off to the right. A bookcase, almost bare, decorated the left. One painting of snow-capped mountains hung on the wall. In the corner stood a small antique table with a vase of fresh flowers on top. Tess couldn't remember the last time she'd had fresh flowers in her house.
Blanche entered the room carrying a pair of mugs. Not shoes. ”I thought you might be thirsty,” she said, handing one of the steaming cups to Tess.
She sat up and accepted the drink. Then groaned with pleasure when she took a whiff. ”Is this Irish coffee?”
Blanche took a seat across from her, a mischievous smile tugging at her wrinkled lips. ”After midnight, it's all I serve.”
”I'll be back tomorrow.” Tess inhaled deeply before taking a sip.
”I'll keep you to that.” Blanche took her own sip before getting comfortable and tilting her head. ”He's a good man, you know. Sometimes he's rough around the edges, but that's only because he doesn't know what's good for him.”
Tess shrugged. ”Okay.”
”He do something to p.i.s.s you off?” Blanche asked candidly.
”You could say that,” Tess answered. ”He's definitely not one for negotiation, no matter how hard I've tried.”
”You try asking him naked?”
Tess choked on her Irish coffee. ”I beg your pardon?”
”Men can't think straight when a woman's naked. Something about their brain cells getting jumbled. And then their favorite word becomes 'yes.'”
”I, uh...” Tess was at a complete loss for words. She looked into her mug, hoping the blush she felt wasn't obvious on her face.
”You know how to play backgammon?” Blanche stood and reached for a small leather case on the bookshelf. She had it opened on the ottoman and pieces set up before Tess could answer.
”It's been a while, but yeah.” Tess didn't know what to make of Blanche. Or herself. She was happy with the subject change, but even if Blanche had continued to talk about Hugh, she didn't feel any urge to leave. The older woman gave off a wonderful air of familiarity and warmth and Tess wanted to hang around her.
Blanche drank her Irish coffee while she set up the rest of the game pieces. Tess did the same, the easy rhythm they fell into one she rarely experienced.
Hugh. I fell into an easy rhythm with him.
”You got something on your mind, you should just spit it out,” Blanche said, putting her mug down on the ottoman.
Tess looked at her. Really looked at her. The idea that Blanche might be a Veiler popped into her mind. And with it her defenses went back up. ”Right back atcha. I'm not really sure why you invited me here.”
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