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“I’m sorry,” he said, but knew his words were inadequate.
“I told them I’m starting a new job tomorrow. I’ll have to make arrangements to go back there on the weekend.”
“You can go back right now if you want to. I promise to hold your job for you.” The thought of her going away made a streak of pain register in his soul. He didn’t want her to go. Not even for a weekend. The fear of her never returning burned hot and wild in his soul.
“No special treatment, remember?”
Seth shrugged. “It’s not special treatment. I’d do it for any other employee in the same situation. I promise. Do what you need to do, Jessica.”
“Thanks, Seth. I do appreciate it. But I don’t think I can face one more disaster in my immediate future.” The trembling lip came back and then the tears started streaming down her face, promptly before the sobbing started. “I want stupid bad stuff to stop happening.”
Seth took her into his arms, wondering who was fucking with her, and how he could figure out a way to stop it before she did something drastic. Like leave them over the endless bad signs hammering her life.
Chapter Twelve
Garrett followed the sound of voices up the stairs of his home. He was excited to have Jessica here. They’d never invited a woman into this house before.
He entered the spare bedroom, anxious to christen it, but instead found Jessica and Seth, arm in arm, clothing rumpled, and her sobbing her heart out.
“What the fuck did you do?” he asked Seth harshly.
They both started at the sound of his voice. “You’re home early,” Seth said.
“I was anxious to see Jessica.” He crossed the room and sat down next to her on the bed opposite of Seth.
“Well I didn’t make her cry.” Seth explained about the delayed phone call from her storage place and the ensuing disaster she faced in cleaning it all up.
The back of his neck tingled in the way it used to when he was a prosecutor right before he’d figured out something important on a case he was working.
“You know, this is all sounding very non-coincidental to me.” Garrett reached out and stroked her cheek.
Jessica sniffed. “What do you mean?”
“First your storage place was broken into and ransacked. Then several days later the room you rent here has the same thing happen. Then your car is stolen with all of your things. Put it all together and I’d call this pretty damn personal.”
“Personal? I don’t know anyone who’d care.”
“Is there anyone after you for anything? Gambling debts? Loan shark money owed?”
Her eyebrows scrunched. “No. Of course not. What kind of a girl do you think I am?”
“The best kind. I’m simply trying to help you figure this out.”
Seth asked, “What about your ex? Is this something he’d do?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “No. He wanted me gone. He got his wish. I can’t imagine any scenario where he’d want me to—” She stopped talking all of a sudden. Her focus went elsewhere.
“What?”
The trance was broken. “Nothing.”
“Something,” Garrett insisted. “What are you thinking?”
She shook her head. “It’s probably nothing. I discovered something unexpected when I stopped at your bank to get a safety deposit box.” Her eyes narrowed as if she were thinking it through, but she remained quiet.
“What did you find?”
Jessica pushed out a long breath. “I found something of Chucky’s in my old gym bag.”
“Maybe he wants it back,” Garrett said, off-handedly.
“Well, he’s not going to get it!” Her vivid irritation was an expression Garret hadn’t seen. But he watched her anger fade quickly.
“What is it?” Seth asked.
She pushed out another sigh, of the long-suffering type. “His stupid stamp collection.” She held up her hands, shaping them to show the size of the box, which was about the size of a large oversized coffee mug.
“He had this old, beat-up, carved wooden box filled with a couple dozen boring individual little plastic bags of stamps. He carried it with him like a sacred talisman the whole time we were together.”
