I guess I’m still getting used to the fact our harmless little town is growing by the minute and is not nearly as innocent anymore.
“And the final reason I know they were watching,” the man concludes.“They must’ve known no one was there, if they were making that kind of noise at that time of night.”
I’ll admit, I’m mildly creeped out by the fact someone’s been watching.Mostly because it would suggest Tessa and her boys are under close scrutiny.I doubt I hold any interest for them, other than perhaps being an added access point for them to get to Remi.
I’m starting to wonder if perhaps the boy wouldn’t be better served if I took myself out of the equation.
Tessa
“No.”
I put my hands on my hips to give my refusal more emphasis, but already Clem is shaking his head.
“I’m gonna head back to the firehouse to meet with Mancuso and give you guys some time to figure this out,” Rick says, moving toward the door.“I can always swing by later to give rides or drop stuff off.”
“No need, I’ll come with you.I’m gonna need my truck anyway.”
Disappointment settles like spoiled food in my stomach as Clem follows Althoff out the door.
His solution to the news he’d likely have to spend the night somewhere else was to see if he could check into The Carriage House, a bed-and-breakfast at the edge of town.It’ll probably take up a good chunk, if not all, of the night before the FBI finishes with the firehouse.As it is, it’s already near midnight, and checking into a B&B seems stupid when I have a big enough bed upstairs.Both boys are already sleeping—for the most part oblivious to the implied threat the return of Remi’s destroyed phone conveyed—and I’m always up before them, so they wouldn’t even need to know where he stayed the night.
Hell, at this point I don’t even care if they do.All that matters to me is keeping everyone I care about close tonight.It may be the only way I’ll get any sleep.
But it looks like I won’t be that lucky.
Resigned, I lock my front door and head for the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.I may as well settle in with my laptop and try to do some work, I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night.
I have just switched a load of never-ending laundry from the washer to the dryer, and am about to pour my second cup of coffee and sit back down at my laptop, when someone knocks at my front door.
My eyes immediately fly to the kitchen clock, which shows it’s twelve forty-five.
The perfect time to quietly dig around the Retro Chevy forum under a fake identity I set up in hopes of spotting something helpful the FBI might have missed, which isn’t very likely, but desperation makes me try anyway.However, not at all a common hour for people to be knocking on doors.
Walking over to the hall closet, I quickly reach for my service weapon I started leaving on top of the gun safe on the shelf, instead of inside, after the attack on my child.What good will a gun do me if I have to waste time unlocking the safe in case of an emergency?It might be too late by the time I get my hands on it.
With my weapon securely in hand, I approach the door when a second, softer knock sounds.Followed immediately by a familiar voice.
“Tessa, it’s me.”
Still, I force myself to check the peephole to make absolutely sure before I open the door.
Clem has a backpack slung over his shoulder and his head hung low as he glances at me from under his heavy eyebrows.
“Does the offer still stand?”
Wordlessly, I open the door wider to allow him in, even as I feel myself getting angry all over again.It’s been at least an hour since he walked out.I notice him glance at the weapon in my hand.
“No room left at the inn?”I comment with a slightly bitter edge, as I slip the gun back on top of the gun safe in the closet.
“I didn’t check,” he admits, dropping his bag on my couch.“Mancuso arrived before I could get back here and had me stick around for another walk-through.”
That may explain the delay, but not why he’s here at all.
“What changed your mind?”
“Althoff,” he surprises me by saying.“Told me I was a moron, even if I did think I was doing everyone a favor by staying out of the way.”
“Youarea moron,” I readily confirm.“Unless I’ve lost my ability to read the signals, you’ve been ready to get me in bed, but you turn it down when it’s offered to you on a platter.Make it make sense?”
