Читать книгу Danger in a Small Town - Ginny Aiken - Страница 9

Tess stared up into intense blue eyes, only too aware of Ethan Rogers’s strength. She couldn’t help feeling comforted, protected, supported.

Very odd, since he was a stranger.

“Th-thanks,” she murmured. Calling on her last reserves of strength, she placed her hands on that broad chest and pushed away. “I’m okay. It’s just…” She waved toward the ambulance. “It hit me hard again to see that bag.”

Ethan nodded. “It doesn’t get any easier, either.”

Which, she assumed, was why he wasn’t an agent anymore. And he’d still come out when his cousin asked. Interesting man.

The ambulance pulled away silently, the unfortunate young woman past the need for a siren.

“Who is she?” Ethan asked.

Maggie gave a humorless chuckle. “We’d all like to know. I suppose we’ll find out when we check her belongings. A couple of guys are still in there, gathering evidence.”

He frowned. “You don’t know her? Isn’t she local?”

“Loganton might be small,” Maggie said, “but not that small. I don’t know everyone in town.”

“Point taken.” He glanced toward the woods. “Did you see anything back there? You said you thought it was drugs.”

“I only took a quick look around, but I did see a syringe, and her face was a mess. Looks like meth to me.”

“Meth.” Ethan winced.

Even Tess knew about the horrors of methamphetamine. Newspapers and the evening news carried more stories each day—gangs, robbery, murder. Not only did meth bring crime in its wake, but it also ravaged every part of the user’s body. “How awful.”

Maggie flipped her notepad shut. “It’s our third death in about a year. One was a vagrant. The other was a teen. There’s always a greedy supplier somewhere, ready to make a buck off someone who’s hurting and thinks drugs will make the pain go away.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Where’s it coming from?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Maggie said. “We hadn’t had even a hint of meth before these three deaths.”

“Bad deal.”

Maggie snorted. “I’ll say.”

Tess struggled to accept what she’d heard. “Does this mean Loganton really has a drug problem? I can’t believe it. It’s such a small, quiet town.”

“Hey, Maggie!” the other officer yelled. “What’s the deal? We gotta get to the hospital. You’re not at one of those five-minute musical-chairs dating parties here, ya know.”

Maggie blushed under her tan. “Gotta love him. Otherwise I might kill ’im.” She turned to her partner. “He’s my cousin, you goof!”

“Go ahead,” Ethan said. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Can you make sure Tess gets home safely?”

“Of course.”

Tess watched the cops get into the cruiser. Then, siren blaring, they sped off toward town.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you wind up in the middle of…?” Ethan waved.

“Believe it or not, all I wanted was some fresh air and a good run.” Tess was surprised by how easy he was to talk to. Maybe it had something to do with the way he focused all his attention on her every word, how he nodded in agreement every so often, how he met her gaze and let his compassion show.

But by the time she finished, his smile was gone, and anger twisted his features. “Sounds like meth.”

Tess bit her bottom lip and looked toward town. What could have led that woman down the path of drug abuse? She couldn’t imagine seeking refuge or escape that way, no matter how tough life got. She started to ask, but when she faced Ethan again, something in his gaze held her back.

He stood statue-still, staring down the street, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. His thoughts had left Loganton for another place and time—his past, she was sure. A story lurked there somewhere, but Tess didn’t have the right to pry. “Ah…I guess I’ll see you later, Ethan. If you live in town, that is. It’s small and…”

He didn’t answer.

She wasn’t surprised. She doubted he’d heard a word she’d said. The strangest urge to reach out, to comfort him came over her. But of course she didn’t have that right, either, so she turned and gave him time to deal with his thoughts.

That’s when she heard the other cops come out of the woods. She glanced back to see the older of the two men carrying what she thought was a tote bag. But it wasn’t a tote bag after all. The most pathetic sound escaped the sack.

“Don’t know anyone who wants a dog,” the officer muttered to the other one at his side.

Another wail came from the bag.

It affected Tess more than she would have thought. “Is the dog okay?” she asked.

The officer turned. “Beats me. We haven’t looked. We’ll probably take him to the pound, now that his owner’s dead.”

Before she could stop to think, Tess blurted out, “I’ll take him. I don’t have a problem caring for him until I find him a permanent home. It’s better than leaving him where he might be—”

She stopped, unable to voice the sad possibility.

At her side, Ethan chuckled.

The officers traded looks. Then the older one shrugged. “Fine with me, but we’ll have to run it past the chief. If he’s okay with it, then the pooch is yours.”

“Not permanently mine, you understand.” Tess reached for the tote bag. “It’s just until I find him a new home.”

Instead of handing her the bag, the officer put it on the ground. “Be careful,” he said. “It’s a mess. The owner was thinking more about her next fix than her dog. We found it sitting in the mud.”

Another mournful wail escaped the carrier. Tess dropped to one knee and found the zipper’s tab. Through the mesh window in the side, a pair of shiny black eyes peered out at her. The pup gave a soft yip.

Tears burned the back of her eyelids. Another victim of the drug nightmare. “Aw…You’re not a bunch of girly goodies tucked into a big purse, are you?”

The eyes stared back, and the dog followed another yip with a whine.

Tess tugged at the zipper. “No lipstick or a brush or even hairspray.” One by one, the plastic teeth parted. “You’re a puppy dog, aren’t you?”

“And you’re the queen of the obvious.” Ethan smiled as he knelt at her side.

Tess chuckled. “True. But I just want him to trust me, so I’ll keep talking silly if it helps. He’s all alone in the world now. I have to find him a home, and soon.”

Ethan laughed. “He’s already found a home but doesn’t know it yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ethan sat back on his heels. “Oh, the baby talk, the ‘he’s all alone in the world,’ and the ‘I have to find him a home….’ He’s got you right where a homeless pooch wants you.”

“No. Really. I can’t just walk away. That would be cruel. And I don’t need a dog right now, not when I’ve just moved back to town and am trying to start a new business. Plus I have a relative to take care of. He’s older and has health issues—you know. I don’t need a dog.”

The blue eyes twinkled. “How about you let the poor thing out of that fancy purse? You don’t have to work so hard to justify yourself.”

“That’s what I’m working on.” She wasn’t going to touch that justifying comment.

He laughed again. “Don’t blame me. You’re the one falling for a dog you haven’t even seen.”

She shrugged. “Okay, okay. I feel sorry for him. I’m an animal lover. I couldn’t turn my back on him. That’s all.”

“If you say so.” Ethan gave her a mischievous smile, and Tess again noticed how attractive he was.

Another whine dragged her attention back to the pet carrier. Tess murmured a comforting croon while she put her hand up to the mesh window.

“Well?” Ethan asked. “Are you going to spring him?”

The last few teeth of the zipper came apart, and the flap-like door dropped to the ground. A tiny head with a sharp muzzle and pointy ears poked out—actually, one pointy ear; the other one flopped over one of the black eyes. A scrawny body covered in uneven tufts of dirt-brown fur followed, its toothpick legs taking short, stiff steps out of the carrier.

“What,” Ethan asked, “is that?”

Tess could only blame her reaction on stress. Ethan’s question struck her as hilarious. And the dog? Well, the poor animal was just plain pathetic.

“That, Ethan Rogers,” she said between laughs, “is the ugliest dog on earth.”

Then the ugliest dog on earth threw Tess a curve ball. The rotten little rat pranced up, crawled onto her lap, took four, maybe five spins, looked her in the eye, stretched out his bony body, licked her chin, and then plopped on her lap as if he’d spent every day of his life doing just that.

In that moment he stole her heart.

She was in trouble. Big-time.

And Ethan knew it.

“I told you so,” the bigger rat said.

She ran a finger over that small, hard head. The mangy mess darted out his pink tongue and licked her finger. “It’s temporary, Ethan. Just until I find him a forever home.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

Unfortunately, they both knew he was right. And too nice, too good-looking, too intriguing for her own good. Even if he was a stranger.

Lord? What’s going on? I’m not ready for this.

She had an injured uncle to care for, a new business to get off the ground, an orphaned dog to tend to and she’d watched a woman overdose on meth. Tess wanted God to give her a quick and easy answer, but she suspected she wasn’t going to get one anytime soon. She’d just have to watch herself.

Coming home was turning out to be more—way more—than she’d expected. Or maybe it was a case of finding more than she’d thought she’d find.

A sad dog and a striking man.

After the day she’d had, it didn’t surprise Tess when she only managed to catch a nap or two that night. Her dreams kept taking her back to that horrible scene in the woods. She cried, she prayed and in the end, spent most of the night watching the shadows cast by an oak tree outside her window.

When the sun finally rose, she was an emotional mess. But she knew she had to pull herself together. Uncle Gordon expected her to pick him up by ten o’clock.

“Hey, you,” Tess said as she walked into his drab-green and dingy-cream hospital room on time. “You’re such a terror, they’re kicking you out.”

He winked. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to get sprung.”

She was glad to take him home. “You ready to roll, then? You’re lucky they put your leg in that temporary cast. You can get around again.”

A nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room. Uncle Gordon gave it a glare but didn’t fight the inevitable. Instead he glanced back at Tess and said, “Do you call shuffling behind a walker getting around?”

The nurse chuckled.

Tess rolled her eyes. “I sure do. Would you rather sit in a wheelchair—like this one—and have me push you wherever you want to go?”

He scowled as they waited for the elevator. “You wouldn’t have the time. You’re too busy.”

“Sure I’m busy, but I came home because you needed help. And a keeper. Molly and the others volunteered me for the job. They figured I didn’t have anything better to do.”

Getting her uncle into the car took every bit of Tess’s and the nurse’s attention. Once they had him settled in, they stowed away an overnight case, a balloon bouquet and all the sample-size toiletries he’d insisted on bringing home.

Tess thanked the nurse, then slid in behind the wheel. As she pulled away, Uncle Gordon let out another “Hmph!”

She slanted him a glance. “Okay. Let me have it.”

His brows met over the bridge of his large nose and he shook a finger at her. “I’m not happy about you quitting your job in Charlotte.”

“As you’ve told me a couple of times.” She’d put him off long enough. She had to tell her uncle what had happened. “There were problems at Magnusson’s. Someone began to steal from the registers, and only department managers had the codes to open the drawers. Because my department was hit three times, the police began to suspect me.”

“Idiots!”

The anger in Uncle Gordon’s gaze told her to hurry with her tale. “It’s okay. They found the woman who did it. She worked for the IT department. She’s in jail, but some of the people I worked with never got over their suspicions. I couldn’t run the department if my employees were suspicious of me.”

“Did they only hire idiots in that place?”

She smiled. Such simple support was worth everything to her. “No, they just couldn’t get beyond their fears, and they didn’t want to lose their jobs if I proved to be guilty sometime in the future.”

“So now you’re here, twiddling your thumbs, because of a bunch of fools. Now how can that make sense?”

“Now this I’ve told you more than a couple of times. I’m starting my own business. Please give me a chance. I’ll show you what I’m doing once we’re home.”

He “hmphed” again, but didn’t speak during the rest of the ride.

Tess parked in front of the house, reached out and patted his hand. “Trust me, Uncle Gordon, I’m much happier here at home. I didn’t have anything better to do. Not in Charlotte.”

“How can you be happier? You told me all you’re going to be doing is staring at a little box with letters on it that’ll suck the smarts right outta your brain.”

“Oh, it’s got pictures, too!” She hopped out and rounded the car to his side. “Computers have come a long way. Wait till you see the sweet laptop I bought for my new business. It’s great!”

Tess helped him swing his legs out of the car then opened the rear door to grab the shiny new walker. That’s when she noticed the flower bed under the bay window on the right side of the house. It was a mess. The rosebushes lay on their sides, and all the flowers had been trampled. “Would you look at that? What could have made that mess?”

Uncle Gordon glared. “I’m going to have to have me another talk with Rupert Anthony. That man’s got himself a canine beast. And he thinks nothing of letting it roam and do its business on everybody else’s property. But it’s too much when the monster takes to trashing a man’s roses. You won’t ever see me harboring a dog. Uh-uh. Gordon Graver won’t ever make a sap of himself over a bag of bones, fur, teeth and barks.”

Uh-oh. Tess had a problem—another one—on her hands. Her new little bag of bones, fur, teeth and barks wasn’t going to be welcomed by her uncle anytime soon. At least she’d postponed the confrontation by leaving the dog at The Pampered Pooch for grooming before going to pick up the semi-invalid at the hospital.

She reached into the backseat and grabbed Uncle Gordon’s walker. A couple of twists later, she had it open and on the sidewalk. “They did teach you how to use this thing, right?”

He snorted. “A drill sergeant named Harry made me push it up and down the hospital hall about a million times. Of course, they taught me to use it. But I’m ditching it the minute I get used to this clunky old cast.”

“You’ll get rid of the walker when Dr. Meyer says you can,” Miss Tabitha Cranston, Uncle Gordon’s longtime lady-friend said as she marched down the sidewalk. “Is he giving you a hard time, Tess?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She closed the car door and followed her lovable curmudgeon up the front walk, and then helped him with the stairs. “He thinks he’s tough, you know?”

“He does have his moments.” Miss Tabitha’s warm hug was as welcome as always. “But we love him anyway, right, sugar?”

Tess turned the key in the lock, then pushed the door in. “I haven’t met another man I’d be willing to move for.”

Miss Tabitha helped ease the walker over the threshold. “There aren’t many of those, are there?”

“See?” Uncle Gordon crowed. “I’m just about perfect. One of a kind.”

“Oh, brother.” Tess dropped his bag of hospital gear on the floor at the bottom of the steps. “I’ll carry all this upstairs as soon as I make you comfortable.”

“Tess,” Miss Tabitha said, her voice unusually tentative. “I took the liberty of asking one of my boarders to meet us here. He’s a nice, strong young man, and he can help us get Gordon upstairs. I think he needs to take another of those pain pills and go straight to bed before the pain gets too bad to bear.”

“Bed!” he objected. “I’ve done nothing but lie in bed for three weeks! And you girls want me to go back to one? What’s the point of busting out of the hospital, then?”

“The point,” Miss Tabitha said, “is that someone else needs that hospital bed more than you, Gordon. All you have to do is lounge around and wait for the bone to heal. You can do that here just as well as there.”

“I’m not going upstairs. I’m perfectly fine here.” He pointed toward the living room. “I can sit on my own sofa just as well as lie on that bed!”

The minute he let go the walker, he swayed. The temporary cast, only two days old, wasn’t meant for walking. That one would come in about ten days, once an X-ray revealed the progress the bones had made.

Tess grabbed his left arm, Miss Tabitha the right.

“You’re not ready for the living room,” Miss Tabitha said with a shake of her head. Her alabaster braided coronet loosened, and a stray wisp grazed her forehead. “That’s why Ethan’s going to help you up those stairs. He should be here any—”

The doorbell cut her off. She murmured something about lunch, and Tess headed for the foyer. At the door she smiled at Ethan Rogers. “Surprise, surprise!” she said. “I didn’t expect you to be the boarder Miss Tabitha said she’d roped into helping us corral our wild man.”

He smiled. “Hi, Tess.” He stepped inside and went straight to her great-uncle. “Mr. Graver is going to need a hand with those stairs. Don’t know about that corralling bit, though. I’m a city boy all the way.”

As the tall, muscular Ethan stood next to thin, wiry Uncle Gordon, Tess grinned. “I doubt he’ll give you much trouble.”

Uncle Gordon snorted again. “I don’t tangle with the law, girlie-girl! This guy’s way outta my league. I know when I’m beat. Let’s go upstairs.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Retired, Mr. Graver. I used to work for the DEA.”

Uncle Gordon jutted out his chin. “I’m still impressed.”

“Don’t be,” Ethan said, his words as tight as his jaw. “There’s no glamour in law enforcement. Just a lot of pain and heartbreak.”

Hm…she’d been right. Definitely a story somewhere under Ethan’s many layers. But just as she’d told herself out on the roadside the day before, she didn’t have the right to go digging. That didn’t stop her from wondering what had led Ethan to leave the agency.

Her curiosity would have to go unsatisfied, though. They had a septuagenarian to get to bed.

To her surprise Ethan didn’t leave right after he helped her settle Uncle Gordon in the middle of the old four-poster bed. Instead he followed her to the kitchen, where Miss Tabitha was making lunch.

She turned and waved toward the table when Tess and Ethan walked in. “Take a chair. The sandwiches are almost ready.”

“Great!” Tess said. “I’ve missed your cooking.”

Miss Tabitha tsk-tsked. “Oh, this isn’t cooking. I told you, it’s just sandwiches.” Then she beamed her forest-green eyes at Tess. “Gordon’s told me you left your job in Charlotte. How come?”

Tess didn’t know anyone who could dodge Miss Tabitha’s stare. But how was she going to tell the older woman about the thefts at Magnusson’s Department Store? Especially with Ethan, a virtual stranger, sitting right here. How, for a brief time suspicion fell on her because of her position as manager of the Finer Footwear department? How could she tell Miss Tabitha that even after the culprit was found and Tess was cleared, the stigma of suspicion had dogged her every move at work?

She couldn’t, so she fell back on the flip response. “I retired. I worked like crazy, and it was great for a while, but home is home. I’m back for good.”

“Pshaw! You’re barely out of diapers, Tess Graver. You’ve no more retired than I’ve taken up beach volleyball. What are you up to?”

Diapers? Beach volleyball? “I’m serious, Miss Tabitha. I’m done selling fancy flip-flops and sky-high heels for Magnusson’s. I’m back in Loganton to stay. I’m starting a new business here.”

“Tell me all about it.”

BRIIING!

Saved by the phone! “Hold that thought,” Tess said, and went to the phone. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Who’s this?” she asked, but got no response. Then she shook her head and hung up. “Wrong number.”

She returned to the table and realized both Miss Tabitha and Ethan were staring right at her. “What?” she asked.

Miss Tabitha arched a brow. “You were about to tell me about this new business of yours.”

It was time to tell. “Well, I’m glad Molly and the rest of that bunch decided they couldn’t get away to help Uncle Gordon. They gave me the chance to do what I really wanted but hadn’t had the guts to go ahead and do.”

“And that would be…?”

“I’m opening an online auction and consignment service. I’m going to make money off other people’s junk.”

Out the corner of her eye, Tess saw the disbelief on Ethan’s face. Miss Tabitha, on the other hand, looked intrigued. Tess smiled at the lady she hoped her uncle would finally marry someday.

“It’s not as crazy as it sounds,” she said.

Miss Tabitha set thick sandwiches before them, then placed a pitcher of her trademark sweet tea in the center of the table. “Tell me.”

After a quick prayer they ate, and Tess explained the online business phenomenon. True, it wasn’t the most traditional of endeavors, but she liked the idea of finding new homes for usable items. “You know what they say,” she added. “One man’s trash is another’s treasure.”

Miss Tabitha tapped her spoon on the table. “Well, Tess, my dear. You’ve just snagged yourself your first client. I’ve got more than my fair share of junk. I can stand to unload a whole heap of it. If it’ll help you and keep you here for Gordon, why, I can’t think of a better fate for all those things.”

Tess gaped.

The phone rang—again.

She smacked her mouth shut, then went to the phone. “Hello?”

This time, she heard breathing, faint and even, but got no response.

“Come on,” she said. “I can hear you. What do you want?”

The breathing continued, and a sudden chill ran through her. This time, she couldn’t drop the receiver soon enough. “I’ll have to call the phone company. That’s two times this happened in less than an hour. I hate prank callers. They really need to get a life.”

“Prank?” Ethan asked, his voice taut, his eyes narrow and fixed on her face.

Wow! His look was colder than ice. “Mmm…yes. Silence, and then breathing. No big deal. It happens.”

Ethan looked ready to object, but when he glanced at Miss Tabitha, he sat back and stared at the table. His fingers tapped out a rhythm against the wood.

Tess forced her thoughts back to their earlier conversation. “Are you really serious, Miss Tabitha? You want me to sell some items for you? What would you like me to sell first?”

A slow smile brightened Miss Tabitha’s round, still-lovely face. “I’ve just the thing. It’s bound to bring you a good commission, too. How would you like to list my collection of Victorian funerary urns?”

Ethan made a choked sound. Tess refused to look. She didn’t blame him. After all…funerary urns? Ick! “Uh…what are funerary urns?”

“Well, honey, just what they sound like. They’re the glass, ceramic or metal urns Victorian folks used to store the ashes of their dearly departed.”

Oh, swell. She wants me to sell hundred-plus-year-old ashes. “Hm…” How did one ask diplomatically? “What exactly does one do with Victorian funerary urns?”

“Why, nothing, I suppose. They’re just unique and rare collectibles. Victorians didn’t cotton to the notion of cremation. They agreed with Scripture about the body being buried.”

Tess knew her Scriptures just as well as the next Christian girl, but still, the thought of urns and ashes…she shuddered.

“That still doesn’t tell me why you—” or anyone else “—would collect them.”

Miss Tabitha gestured vaguely. “A distant relative left me a small collection—four or five—in her will. They’re lovely, you know. A few years later I saw another one at an antiques auction and, well, that was that.”

“And people pay for these things?” Tess asked.

Ethan made another sound, this one more like a stifled chuckle.

Miss Tabitha met Tess’s gaze. “You wouldn’t be thinking there’s ashes in them, now would you?”

“Uh…er…no! No, no. Of course not.” Phew!

Miss Tabitha flashed the mischievous grin that had stolen Tess’s great-uncle’s heart. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. At auction I’ve seen them go for hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars.”

Tess shook her head. There really was no accounting for taste, as the old saying went. “Okay, then. Why don’t you bring me a couple? We’ll start small and see how it goes from there.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Miss Tabitha turned to Ethan. “Would you be so kind as to bring them to Tess later on tonight? I’d like to get her up and running. This sounds like fun.”

Ethan’s eyes twinkled. “Be happy to.”

Miss Tabitha studied him through narrowed green eyes. Long, silent moments later, she pushed her chair from the table. “I’d better be getting back home. I need to start supper for my guests.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Ethan said.

Tess gathered her plate and glass and stood. “I’ll take Uncle Gordon his sandwich when he wakes up from his nap.”

Miss Tabitha crossed the room to the sink, washed her hands, dried them on a nearby kitchen towel and then headed toward the front hall, all the time chattering about the meal she planned to serve.

Tess laid an arm around Miss Tabitha’s shoulders. “How many boarders do you have these days?”

“A full house—all four rooms are occupied. The Good Lord’s blessed me with just the right amount of income to keep me independent all these years.”

“I hope the boarders know how lucky they are. Not many landladies throw in gourmet meals as part of the rent.”

“I’m glad this one does,” Ethan said, smiling.

“Thank you, dear. I love to mess around in the kitchen, and it does my heart good to see folks enjoy the results.”

“You do more than mess around,” Tess said, “and you know it. I think you should open up a cooking school, give lessons, at the very least.”

Miss Tabitha’s green eyes twinkled. “Oh, who knows. Maybe someday. But I’ve all I can handle on my plate right now.”

Tess hugged Miss Tabitha then held the door open. “I’ll be waiting for the urns.”

Ethan winked. “With bated breath.”

Tess couldn’t hold it back this time. She laughed. He joined her, and as Ethan escorted Miss Tabitha to the sidewalk, Tess couldn’t squelch the tiny flicker of excitement. She liked Ethan Rogers.

“Lord? I did the right thing coming home, didn’t I?”

Only time would tell.