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The vulnerable Tessa needed security. The lonely Maria needed guests, yes, but Lucas knew she also needed a friend.
He put one glass in front of his sister. “Drink your milk.”
Maria stuck her tongue out at him. It didn’t matter that they were both adults. When Lucas got high-handed with her, Maria couldn’t help but act like a toddler. One stern look later and she was sipping at her milk. She’d learned years ago not to argue with her brother when he got like this.
Lucas sat down opposite her, draining his glass in three large gulps. If Maria felt coddled, he at least was content. Nothing like milk and cookies and the bone-deep assuredness that his loved ones were safe to make a man feel at peace. Sure, there was a murderer loose in Hamlet—as Caitlin pointed out in the hotel room—but behind the best locks money could buy, he could provide protection.
But he also knew that Maria’s kind heart and touch of naivety could render the best security measures unreliable. Look at what happened with Mack Turner. He refused to allow anything like that to happen again.
“Just because you have a guest here, I want you to still be careful. And I don’t mean just the locks, Maria. There’s no reason to let anyone else in Ophelia right now. Do you still have that paper for the front window? If you do, please use it.”
Lucas had printed a sign that read NO VACANCIES right after Turner abruptly checked out of Ophelia. In case anyone tried to rent a room at the bed and breakfast, that one sheet would turn them away. She never really needed it. Word traveled so quickly in Hamlet, everyone knew about what that damn outsider pulled. If he hadn’t gotten into that accident on the way out of town, some of her neighbors would’ve caught up to him eventually. Either way, when Lucas decided Ophelia was closed, that was it. No one even tried to rent a room.
Not until Lucas brought this outsider to her home.
She knew her brother, knew how he cared for those he considered his. By bringing Tessa Sullivan into Maria’s B&B, he was wordlessly promising to watch out for the shaken widow. Maria wondered if the grief-stricken woman realized it.
Tapping her nails against the half-empty milk glass, Maria thought about how pale Tessa was, how they’d left her sitting on the lavender bed, staring blankly at the room around her. From her buzz earlier, she knew that someone had strangled the woman's husband. It couldn’t have been Tessa—Lucas had to be sure of her innocence or there was no way in hell he would’ve brought her to Ophelia to hide out.
Which begged a very interesting question.
“Luc, do you think she’s in trouble?”
It wasn’t so far of a leap. A married couple of outsiders find their way into Hamlet only for one of them to wind up dead a few hours later. What did that mean for the survivor?
Lucas shrugged, though the way his lips thinned revealed him to be more concerned than he let on. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not taking any chances. I already have one body in my freezer. I don’t want another one.”
11
Tess wasn’t sure how much time passed between Lucas and Maria shuffling her into the room and when she heard the gentle knock muffled against the thick wooden door.
The whisper of a never-ending tick-tock-tick-tock told her there was a clock somewhere nearby. She didn’t bother searching for it. Until someone told her she could get the hell out of Hamlet, time didn’t mean anything to her. If she started measuring at all, it would be in the minutes, the hours since she found Jack.
Jack.
She shoved the pain aside. Lying curled up in a ball, she found she didn’t have the strength or the desire to go answer the door. So she didn’t.
“Mrs. Sullivan?”
Tess felt the punch straight to her gut.
“Are you awake? I’ve brought supper.”
She hadn’t had anything since the rest stop yesterday afternoon. The idea of eating turned her stomach. Her shaky hands and lightheadedness told her not to be stupid, though. No matter what, Jack would’ve ha
ted to know that she was taking such bad care of herself. Grief was one thing. Guilt another. But she wasn’t dead. She had to remember that—and start acting like it.
So though she would have much rather closed her eyes and pretend to be asleep, she called out a reply. “The door’s unlocked.”
The rattle of the doorknob was followed by the clanking of cutlery. Maria bumped the door in with her hip, struggling to right the tray she held out in front of her with both hands. She listed to one direction, taking careful steps not to slosh the glass of water or spill the heavy plate of food she carried.
Tess immediately started to rise. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—”
“No, no, no. You’re my guest. Stay there, stay comfortable. I’ve got this.”
It didn’t matter that Maria told her to stay put. Tess’s first instinct was to jump up and help and while she still wanted to, she also didn’t want to insult her hostess. Moving so that she was on the edge of the bed, she readied her body to move quickly in case it looked like Maria was going to stumble and drop the tray.
And then she saw the familiar grey strap crossing Maria’s body and understood exactly why the other woman was having a hard time managing her tray. Tess’s bag had to weigh at least thirty pounds.
