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“Yes.”
“Thought so. One thing I learned living here is that outsiders have a hard time accepting help,” he said, unable to hide his derisive snort. “Always think that there’s a price for everything.”
Something in what Collins said triggered Tess’s memory of a hand-painted sign and a slogan drawn prettily near the bottom. “‘Hamlet helps’,” she quoted.
“That’s right. Hamlet’s full of good folk. We look out for each other. Mase says you’re a fine girl and you need a ride. I trust him so a ride to the inn is what you’re gonna get. Now, you want to ride in the front of my car or the back?”
Part of Tess wondered if she should take his no-nonsense tone and harsh words as a threat. To her surprise, she found that she liked his blunt attitude. He wasn’t being rude so much as he was definitely a direct kind of guy. If she wasn’t so desperate to escape his company, she might have even liked him.
“Am I a prisoner?” she wondered.
Collins nearly glowered. “A guest.”
“Then I guess I’ll sit in the front.”
“Good choice.”
Deputy Collins drove her right to the Hamlet Inn. She didn’t know how he knew where to go until she remembered that she was stuck in a town with less than two hundred people living there. It was the Hamlet Inn, after all. For an outsider staying at a hotel, it was a pretty safe bet that this was the place.
He pulled up to the front, dashing her hopes of sneaking around back and trying to find another way upstairs to her rented room.
“You want me to walk you inside?”
She knew she looked like something the cat dragged in. Her hair felt like a rat’s nest attached to her head. Her back ached from sleeping on the hard bench in the cell. She was wearing the same clothes she put on yesterday morning. It was bad enough she had to do the walk of shame through the front lobby of the hotel. If she didn’t have to have a police escort, she sure as hell didn’t want one.
“Thank you, Deputy. I think I can manage on my own.”
“All right then. Try not to get into any more trouble.” His grave voice washed over her like a warning of doom. She had to fight the urge to shiver. “And, remember: if someone needs help, offer it. It’s the right thing to do.”
He wasn’t wrong. It was something to think about. So, solemnly promising him that she would, Tess managed to escape from the cruiser.
She could feel his dark eyes on her back as she trudged up the steps and let herself into the inn. The front lobby looked exactly the same as it had before her major lapse in judgement, right down to the woman working the counter. Except, this time, she wasn’t ogling Jack. She watched Tessa with open curiosity.
“Good morning, Mrs. Sullivan.”
It was the exact same woman who checked them in last night. The one who warned her about the gulch. Too bad she didn’t tell her that their precious town actually had a drunk tank.
Since it wasn’t her fault that Tess was the idiot who decided to drink and drive last night, she kept herself from scowling at the woman’s too chipper greeting. It was tough, though.
Especially since she looked well-rested and fresh, her hair slicked back, obviously wet. She must have already showered. Tess vaguely remembered the woman—this Caro—answering Mason’s radio call at close to two in the morning. She probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than Tess had.
Tess decided to hate her on principle. Faking a tight-lipped grin, she offered a quick wave, leaving the greeting at that as she purposely headed straight for the stairs.
The Hamlet Inn didn’t have an elevator. As she dragged her weary body up the narrow flight of stairs, she searched her purse. She saw her wallet, noticed that the car keys were missing—wonderful—and continued digging until she found the room key she made Jack give her. At least that was one thing in her favor. Who knows what she would’ve done if that was gone, too?
Her eyes, like the rest of her, were tired and achy. Tess squinted, trying to make out the number scrawled across the top of the keycard. She remembered that their room was on this level and toward the back. 203 maybe? Or was that a 5?
It was a 3. A Do Not Disturb tag was on one door only, and that was to room 203. She’d hung that there herself before she left last night so that Jack could rest peacefully and then promptly forget she had. It was a good thing the clerk woman ignored it last night or she’d be in even worse trouble for spending the entire night out without checking in.
That was if Jack even would have realized just how late it was.
When she let herself in, she discovered that he was still sleeping. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, but she could make out that shape of him sprawled out beneath the floral-print quilted bedspread. His head was covered. He must have passed out hard after the late night wake-up call.
Unusual for Jack? Definitely.
Was Tess grateful for the fact that she could put off the inevitable for a few minutes more? Oh, yeah.
So desperate to feel clean again, she tiptoed carefully past the bed. Tess knew her husband. Once he was up, he’d start grilling her about what happened last night. She wasn’t proud of her temper tantrum—looking back, her insistence to leave the inn had been childish—and it was humiliating that she not only spent the night drinking, but then she got caught driving afterward.
