Chapter 13
Tessa
“This is bullshit!”
I look into my eldest son’s angry face.
“Linc, come on. It’s only temporary.”
He swings around and pelts his water bottle into the sink. Judging from the sound of breaking, there were some dirty dishes left in there.
“Hey,” I snap. “You’d better calm your ass down, kid. This is a mild inconvenience to make sure we keep your brother safe.”
“Well, all of this is his fault to begin with,” he complains angrily.
Then my six-foot-something kid braces his arms against the counter and drops his head down.
“Mom, please…” he pleads in a softer tone. “I promised I’d take Naomi.”
I feel bad I’d forgotten there is a party scheduled after tonight’s football game.
“I know, kid, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
Mancuso was not messing around, putting a protective detail on Remi and, by extension, us. It was that or take the kids and disappear for a while, at least until this case is solved. I opted for the lesser of two evils and agreed to be followed around by federal agents wherever we go.
The FBI seems to believe this is a well-run and ruthless crime organization.
Mancuso mentioned they were spinning their wheels before.
Remi is the only real witness they have, and he is providing them with some valuable leads, which are helping to put some of the puzzle pieces together.
He wasn’t able to give them much of a description of his attackers—their faces had been covered—but he’s given them his login names and passwords for the various apps he had on his phone.
The feds want to keep him safe and, because it’s not outside of the realm for a criminal organization to threaten or hurt people he cares about to force him to stay silent, Linc and I are limited too.
Everywhere we’ve gone these past few days, we have a security detail at our back.
We’re trying to keep things as normal as we can when we’re home, with agents parked outside.
For Linc, it means having to contend with an unmarked vehicle following him to and from school, and passing up on any extracurricular activities.
Tonight, he has his football game, and he’ll have an agent with him, but the after-party would be a logistical nightmare, so that will have to wait.
“It’s not fair.”
“I know.” I put a hand on Linc’s back and lean into him. “Why don’t you see if she wants to come here after the game? You guys can watch a movie or something in the basement.”
He shrugs under my touch, “Maybe,” and then abruptly heads for the stairs.
I clean up the shards from the shattered coffee mug and wash Linc’s water bottle, leaving it next to the sink.
This morning I am taking Remi for his follow-up visit with Dr. Sharma.
The hope is he will be cleared for school, because he’s miserable here, especially since I’ve kept him home these past two days.
In part, so we don’t create the need for more people to be assigned to our security detail—those agents would be more useful working the case—but also because I’d hate for something to happen at Clem’s shop.
That said, it’s Remi’s sixteenth birthday on Monday and he’s hoping, if he is well enough to go to school, I’ll let him go to the firehouse after school.
I can’t make promises like that until I have a chance to talk to Clem first. He’ll ultimately have to be the one to make that decision, sixteenth birthday or not.
He and I have exchanged a few texts since Tuesday, just checking in, but I haven’t seen him.
Maybe tonight I can pop over for a quick visit.
Things have been a little chaotic, trying to get used to what will be our new normal, at least for the time being.
Hugo suggested I could work from home until Remi goes back to school, which was welcome.
I’m still active on Ryan Wells’s case, but with Jason Mancuso taking over the lead, I’m okay working in the background.
Even though I stay in telephone contact with the office, I’m starting to feel a little out of the loop. I found out from Hugo there’s a task force meeting scheduled at the FBI office in Spokane on Monday, and if Remi is back in school, I hope to attend.
“I’m off, Mom.”
Linc breezes into the kitchen, as if he didn’t stomp off mad at me ten minutes ago. He’s all smiles now, leaning down to kiss my cheek before stealing my last piece of toast on his way out the door.
That’s my Lincoln, he gets mad but is never angry for long. Remi, on the other hand, can hold a grudge forever.
I finish the last dregs of my coffee and rinse my cup and plate in the sink. Then I grab the basket of clean laundry and head upstairs to make sure my kid is up and getting ready.
“You’ll be feeling those ribs for a while longer,” Dr. Sharma tells Remi. “Those take time to heal. If you’re into sports, I’d probably give it another week or two, but other than that, I think you’re good to go.”
“Awesome,” my youngest says with a grin, as Dr. Sharma gives him a fist bump.
Good to see him smile, even though it’s intended for someone else. I’ll take what I can get.
His stitches were removed and he was checked out top to bottom. I’m relieved, but at the same time I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little apprehensive. I knew he was safe staying home, where I could keep an eye on him. It’ll be a lot harder to control him now that he got his clean bill of health.
“If you get a headache that won’t go away, or your vision goes blurry, give me a call right away,” Dr. Sharma cautions him as he walks us out.
“I will,” Remi promises.
We barely get into my Jeep when he turns to me.
“I wanna go to Linc’s game tonight.”
His announcement surprises me.
“I thought you hated football?” I point out.
He shrugs. “It’s okay. I just wanna get out. I’ve been stuck inside for over a week.”
“Maybe we’ll all go,” I offer, not ready yet to let him go off on his own.
“Oh, come on, Mom. You’ve been hovering all week,” he complains. “I just want some breathing space, it’s not like I’m gonna do anything stupid. Besides, aren’t those guys going to follow us around anyway?”
“Let me think on it.”
I get his urge for freedom, I do, I just need a moment to figure out how that can be accomplished in a safe way.
The security team would need to know. They’ll likely want to send more than just the single agent who would otherwise be keeping an eye on Linc. It’s not like he’s going somewhere by himself, there will be plenty of people around, but he’d need to stick to the crowds and not go off on his own.
Of course, if both boys are going to be at the football field for a couple of hours, it gives me a chance to maybe pop over to the firehouse.
Clem
It’s been a busy week, but tomorrow should be fairly light.
Manuel has the day off, Kyle is coming in at eight o’clock to do an exhaust kit install, and I have a couple of simple maintenance calls lined up.
Unless, of course, we get another couple of tow calls, like we did the past few days.
That threw off our schedule and had us scrambling.
I barely made my poker game again last night.
It wouldn’t have been too much of a hardship; the guys tested my patience last night.
Not sure how, but somehow they got wind of something going on with me and Tessa, and were relentless in their ribbing.
I almost regretted busting my ass to get there in time, but I kept my mouth shut—none of their business anyway—and got my revenge clearing out the pot on my last hand.
This afternoon, after closing up the garage, was the first chance I had to get some groceries. I haven’t cooked much this week either, but tonight I made enchiladas with the roasted chicken I picked up earlier. They’re in the oven now, and I already made the salad I plan to have on the side.
While I wait for dinner to be ready, I pull the new baby blanket I started a week or so ago from the basket next to the couch. Once this one is done, I’ll pack it up with the other four I have folded in my bedroom closet, and drop them off with Mabel Jenkins, who runs The General Store in town.
Mabel is my supplier of yarn. When I was in there last year, I’d noticed her sitting behind the counter, crocheting, and asked where she got her yarn.
She told me she ordered it in along with the rest of the store supplies and was curious why I was asking.
I ended up confessing it was a hobby for me, and she’s the one who told me about the stuff she made and donated to charitable organizations to distribute to people in need.
Since I’m not about to expose my hobby and be the eternal butt of jokes for the Thursday night poker crew by handing out homemade gifts around town, the charity has been a great focus for my activities.
I’m selecting another skein from the basket to set up for a color change when my phone dings with an incoming message.
Are you home?
It’s Tessa. I quickly shoot her a message back, wondering why she’s asking.
Yep.
Before she has a chance to respond, the timer on my oven goes off.
I tuck my phone in my pocket and head to the kitchen to take my enchiladas out of the oven.
The scent of baked cheese and spicy tomato sauce greets me when I open the oven door.
It smells fucking fantastic and I can’t wait to dig in.
It takes me a minute to throw together a vinaigrette and toss the salad. Then I grab a plate and cutlery, and serve myself a good helping. I’m about to sit down when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I’m outside.
I’m already racing down the stairs when I hear a faint knock at the door.
“Hey,” I greet her when I find her on my doorstep, her jacket zipped up to her chin against the cold.
Temperatures have dipped over the past few days. It feels like winter might come early this year.
“Sorry to drop by unannounced.”
I grin at her and usher her inside. “Not unannounced, you sent me a message,” I remind her.
She tilts her head as she unzips.
“When I was already here.”
I snag her coat by the lapels and pull her close, brushing a kiss on her mouth.
“Which was a nice surprise.”
Taking her hand, I lead her up the stairs.
“Oh, wow, it smells great in here. What are you cooking?”
“Enchiladas. Your timing is perfect, I was just about to sit down.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your—”
“You’re not,” I stop her. “Sit down, let me grab an extra plate. Unless you’re in a rush…”
“No rush, I have a couple of hours,” she shares, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it over the end of the railing.
Then she follows me into the kitchen and sits down at the island.
“Where are the kids?”
“Linc has a football game, and Doc Sharma cleared Remi today, so he wanted to tag along to watch his brother.”
“Wow. Is that safe?”
The question escapes me, and I can see from the expression on Tessa’s face she’s not too appreciative of me calling her parental judgment in doubt. I can’t blame her.
“I overstepped,” I immediately correct myself. “Sorry about that.”
I load up the second plate with enchiladas and salad, grab some cutlery, and slide it all in front of Tessa, who has so far remained silent.
“No,” she finally says when I sit down beside her. “I’m being sensitive. Probably because I’ve questioned myself about the same thing several times on my drive here. They’ve got a security team watching them.” She places a hand on my arm. “And I do appreciate you looking out for my boys.”
“And what about you? Did you drive here alone?”
She barks out a laugh at my question. “I can take care of myself. Or did you forget I have a twenty-year law enforcement career to back me up?”
Well, shit. Maybe I should keep my trap shut and eat.
Two bites, that’s all I get down before my self-enforced restraint slips. I put my fork down and turn to her.
“No, I didn’t forget, Tessa, but I’ve been worried about you guys all week and I feel fucking useless. Shit, I don’t know how this is supposed to work, it’s not like I’ve had a ton of experience, but—”
She suddenly leans over, cutting me off mid-sentence with a kiss that stumps the hell out of me. I’m even more at a loss than I was before.
“I don’t know either,” she confesses. “I’m used to looking after myself and my boys on my own. I have trust issues; the last man I allowed close was the boys’ father, and we all still bear the emotional scars.” She shakes her head. “I don’t mean to be a bitch.”
“Hey,” I stop her. “Don’t call yourself that. Surely, if we give ourselves and each other a little grace, we can figure this out.”
She glances at me sideways. “You still want to?”
I get to my feet and swivel her around on her stool so I can step between her legs. Cupping her face in my hands, I drop a thorough kiss on her mouth. Then I wrap my arms around her in a hug, and she drops her head on my shoulder.
“I was careful,” she mumbles.
I lean back to look down at her.
“On the drive here, I mean,” she clarifies. “I promise I’m careful.”
“Good.” I press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Now let’s eat before it gets cold, and maybe after we can move this to the couch.”
My eyes are fixed on her mouth as she returns a bit breathlessly, “Sounds good to me.”
It does me good to see Tessa has a healthy appetite. She keeps pace with me as I wolf down dinner, eager to move to the next portion of our evening. I’m trying to keep my expectations reasonable, but I hope to at least become a little better acquainted with Tessa’s lush body.
“I’ve got it,” I intervene when it looks like she wants to start clearing the dishes. “You go sit down; I’ll just be a minute.”
I quickly rinse the dishes and wrap up the leftovers—they’ll be good for another meal—before I join her in the living room.
I realize my mistake when I see her sitting on my couch, my half-finished baby blanket spread out over her lap.
“I see you’re a man of many talents,” she comments without looking up. “Surprising talents,” she adds, looking up with an amused sparkle in her eyes.
The urge to make up some excuse or even deny any involvement at all is strong, but it would only make me look like an absolute dunce. I decide to own it instead.
“Something to pass the time, and it greatly improves my dexterity,” I add quasi-innocently.
“Well, your fingers are clearly gifted,” she returns, slowly petting the texture of the blanket. “This feels amazing.”
My blood is heating in my veins and my heart is ramping up the beat with every stroke of her fingers.
I’m not even touching her yet.