Chapter 12
Pain was radiating up her arm when Jesse at last forced herself to drop her hand and take a deep, calming breath.
Around her, the silence settled with a smothering weight.
Not the aching silence that Jesse felt whenever she walked through the empty bar.
This was a menacing hush. As if the evil that had driven her from this place had been waiting for her return.
Only this time, it wasn’t going to let her escape.
“For God’s sake, get a grip,” she muttered, lifting her phone to punch the top number.
A second later, Noah answered. “Hi, Jesse, what’s up?”
Relief flooded through her, nearly sending her to her knees. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how terrified she was that she might be trapped in the musty cellar forever. That she would perish alone in the dark with no idea of who wanted her dead.
Forced to clear the lump from her throat, Jesse at last managed to respond. “Hey, Noah, sorry to bother you, but I could use your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’ve somehow managed to lock myself in the cellar of the Tap Room.”
There was a silence, as if Noah just noticed the raspy fear in her voice. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. The door swung shut and now it won’t open. I don’t suppose you could come over and let me out?” She grunted as she remembered that she’d locked the doors. “I think you’ll have to break out the window in the back door to get in. I’ll pay you, of course—”
“I’ll be right there,” he interrupted, ending the call before she could say thank you.
Jesse released a slow breath as she slid down the brick wall, perching on the top step. She felt better knowing that the cavalry was on the way. Or if not the cavalry, at least Noah, who was big enough to deal with whoever had locked her in.
Not that she expected the intruder to linger.
She assumed that they discovered she didn’t have anything of value after they’d cleaned out the safe.
Unless they’d lured her into the cellar to lock her in and continue with their search?
If that was the case, they were going to be severely disappointed.
She didn’t have anything of value. A little cash, a maxed-out credit card, and clothes you could buy at a thrift shop.
Right now she was more interested in how they got in as opposed to why they’d gotten in.
The doors were locked, which meant they had a key. But who? She had her key, along with the master key that had belonged to her dad. As far as she knew, no one else had one.
No, wait. That wasn’t true. An icy chill crawled over her skin. There was one other person with a key. A person who also knew the combination to the safe. And her father’s secret knock. And his favorite cologne.
Victoria.
But why would she be sneaking around? Even if she didn’t want to reveal she was alive, she could easily have snuck in and out of the bar during the past nine years. Why wait until Jesse was there?
The answer whispered in the back of her mind …
To stop her from looking into the past.
Yes. That seemed the most likely hypothesis, right? It wasn’t just that Victoria didn’t want anyone to question why she’d disappeared from Canton; she didn’t want anyone poking into who she’d been before she ever arrived.
Especially if she’d disappeared with money from her dead husband, Larry Maitland, who’d stolen from a bunch of mob guys. They seemed the sort who would want it back, no matter how long ago it went missing.
So how far would Victoria go to keep her secrets?
It was a question that gnawed at Jesse until the sound of her name being called out thankfully broke into her broodings.
“Jesse?”
The heavy tread of footsteps vibrated the stairs before the door was pulled open to reveal Noah’s welcome silhouette.
Without giving herself time to consider the impulse, Jesse jumped up and flung herself against the hard male body, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “You’re a lifesaver, Noah Allen. Again.”
Noah froze, clearly caught off guard by her dramatic gesture of gratitude; then he lifted his hands to smooth them down her back in a comforting gesture.
“What happened?”
“I …” She paused to lick her lips, not sure how much she wanted to share.
She was still shaken by the thought of someone creeping through the bar.
She wanted time to clear her mind before she revealed anything.
“I’m not sure,” she hedged. “I’d gone down to the cellar and a gust of wind must have slammed shut the door.
When I tried to open it I realized it was jammed.
Thankfully, I’d taken my phone with me, so I could give you a call.
” She tilted back her head, forcing a smile. “And here you are.”
He didn’t return her smile. In fact, his expression was grim. “It wasn’t jammed; it was locked.”
“Was it? The … um … lock must have tripped when the door slammed shut.”
“Doubtful. Plus, the back door was left wide open.”
Open? She stepped back, breaking away from his embrace as she glanced toward the back door. Whoever had locked her in must have gone out that way.
She shoved her phone in her back pocket, trying to disguise the tremor of her hands. She didn’t have an answer for that.
“Sorry to bother you. I know you’re crazy busy without having to add rescuing damsels in distress to your to-do list. If you tell me how much I owe you, then you can get back to work.”
He frowned at her rambling. “Jesse. What’s going on?”
“Going on? Nothing.”
“Jesse.”
“I told you, the door slammed shut and—”
“Horseshit. There’s no wind today. Which means no gust slammed that door shut, and even if it did, it couldn’t lock itself.”
Her gaze lowered to the tips of his worn work boots. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about the truth?”
“I …” The lie wouldn’t form.
“Jesse?” He stepped forward, slipping a finger beneath her chin to tilt back her head.
With a sigh, she forced herself to meet his searching gaze. “I don’t know the truth. That’s the problem.”
“Talk to me.”
His touch was warm and soft, as if he sensed she was too fragile to be pressured into confessing. It was that gentleness that undermined her instinctive barriers. A part of her needed to tell someone her fears. As if saying the words out loud would ease the looming cloud of dread.
“Since I’ve been back home, it feels like I’m being haunted.”
She winced. She sounded like a lunatic. Thankfully, Noah merely glanced around the bar, as if searching for an unseen presence.
“You think the Tap Room has a ghost?”
“No,” she firmly denied. “I think someone wants me to believe there’s a ghost. More specifically, my father’s ghost.”
His gaze jerked back to her face, his expression tightening. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s going to sound stupid.”
His thumb stroked the stubborn line of her jaw. “Nothing you say is going to sound stupid. Trust me.”
Jesse hesitated. Did she trust him? Maybe. At least as much as she trusted anyone right now.
She cleared her throat. “A couple of nights ago I was in bed, and I could swear that I heard my dad knocking on the back door.”
“You didn’t see him?”
“No.”
He looked confused. “Then why did you assume it was Mac? It could have been anyone knocking,”
“No, my dad had a very specific knock,” she insisted. “He created it so I would always know it was him outside. Otherwise I wasn’t allowed to open the door if he was gone.”
“And you’re sure you heard that knock?”
“One hundred percent. But when I went downstairs there was no one there.” Jesse abruptly glanced toward the back door. “Wait, that’s not true.” She spoke slowly as the memory formed. “Adam was there.”
“Adam Tillman?”
“That’s the one.”
“Do you think it was him?”
“If I’m being honest, I want to believe it was him. And after talking to Clint Frazer this morning I have legit reason to suspect him. You know, a reason beyond the fact I think he’s a total jackass.”
“What reason?”
“Clint said that Rosemary Jacobs claimed that she saw Adam and Victoria having a public argument in the park shortly before Victoria and Tegan disappeared.”
“Right.” Noah slowly nodded. “I have a vague memory of hearing a rumor about that.” He took a moment to dredge up the old gossip. “But didn’t he have some friends who swore he was with him the night Rosemary supposedly saw him?”
Jesse nodded. “And he was on duty at the sheriff’s office when Victoria crashed her car.”
“So how is he involved as a ghost?”
“I don’t know if he is or not. I just remember he was lurking in the alley.” Jesse shrugged. “Anyway, it wasn’t just the knocking. I’ve also walked into the bar and smelled my dad’s cologne. As if he was in the room.”
Noah didn’t look convinced. “This is an old building. I’m sure there are lots of lingering scents.”
“It was too strong to be from nine years ago,” she protested. “And when I went upstairs I realized the bottle of my dad’s cologne was missing. I’d just placed it on the bed with his other belongings to give away. I left the room and came back, and it had just disappeared.”
Noah studied her in confusion. “You think someone snuck in and stole it?”
It sounded far-fetched when he said it. “I suppose it’s possible I misplaced it, but I don’t think so.” Her tone was defensive. “And I smelled it again today.”
“Where?”
“First I heard the knock. I was upstairs—” She bit off her words.
She didn’t want to discuss Victoria or her mysterious past until she had more information.
“Working when I heard it. I came down to see if there was someone here, and that’s when I noticed the door to the cellar was unlatched.
When I got near the steps I could distinctly smell my dad’s cologne again. That’s why I went downstairs.”
His brows lowered, as if he was angered by her explanation. “Are you serious right now?”
She stiffened her spine. Did he think she was lying? “What?”