Chapter 13 #2
“You gotta admire the wife. She wasn’t going to sit around being humiliated by another woman. Although I don’t understand why she bothered. Her husband was obviously a jerk. She should have packed her bags and moved on.”
Parker sent her a curious glance. “Is that what you would do?”
“Without hesitation. Life is too short to waste on losers.”
He arched a brow. “What about fighting for the one you love?”
A shiver raced through Jesse. She’d watched her dad struggle to earn Victoria’s affection. It’d been a losing battle that had destroyed his pride, along with his belief that he was worthy of love. In the process, Jesse had lost her father’s carefree spirit and ready smile.
“Is it love if you have to fight for it?”
“People make mistakes,” Parker reminded her. “Surely you have some forgiveness in your heart?”
“Not for betrayal.” There was an edge to her voice. An unspoken warning. “Never for that.”
With a shrug, Parker resumed his stroll along the wall, his attention returning to the framed photos.
They were nearing the door when he abruptly stopped to point at one of the photos.
It was a picture of four teenage girls who looked remarkably alike, with their hair pulled into high ponytails and wearing matching softball uniforms.
A bittersweet nostalgia settled in the center of Jesse’s heart as she thought back to those uncomplicated days. There’d been nothing but friends and fun and secret crushes. Certainly she’d never dreamed her life was on the brink of falling apart.
“Is that you?” Parker demanded.
“Yeah.” She determinedly headed toward the door. That innocent child was gone. Destroyed by Victoria. Or rather, Sylvie Fulton Maitland. The bitch. “We all used to stop by here after a game for a root beer float, back when I could eat anything I wanted without worrying it might give me diabetes.”
Parker made a sound of disgust as they climbed out of the building and strolled along the banks of the river.
“You still eat whatever you want. I’ve seen you survive for a week on a bag of gummy worms.”
Jesse chuckled. He wasn’t exaggerating. “I think I mixed a few of those gummy worms into yogurt. That’s healthy, right?”
He shuddered. “Disgusting.”
Grabbing his hand, she threaded their fingers together.
Evening had descended, leaving them shrouded in darkness, with only the soft brush of water against the rocks to break the silence.
It was deliciously serene, and for the first time since Parker had made his unexpected appearance, Jesse felt her tension begin to ease.
Next to her, Parker pinched his lips in disgust, obviously not as happy with the sensation that they were alone in the world.
“It’s so quiet. Does everything in town shut down at five?”
“Most places,” she conceded. “Especially on Sunday.”
“You must have been bored out of your mind living here.”
If Parker had asked her that question a week ago, she would have agreed. After traveling from one major city to another, there was no denying that Canton, Missouri, was the pinnacle of dullness. But the past few days had reminded her that there was more to life than bright lights and making money.
“There were times when I felt smothered, but there was also a sense of being part of a family that I miss.” She glanced toward the slumbering buildings that lined Main Street. “This will always be home.”
Parker’s hand tightened around hers as he tugged her close to his side. “You have me now.”
“True.”
“And once we get our new business up and running, we can start looking for a real house to move into.”
Jesse kept her gaze averted. “Eventually,” she murmured.
She sensed his sharp glance, as if he was annoyed at her vague response.
She didn’t bother to elaborate. They’d reached the Tap Room, giving her the perfect excuse to concentrate on finding the key and shoving it into the lock.
A second later, she was stepping into the bar and switching on the lights.
She waited for Parker to enter before she closed the door and led him toward the back of the building. He was right when he said the town closed down at five o’clock. There wasn’t much entertainment to offer beyond a glass of wine and watching a movie on the couch.
They were near the opening to the foyer when Jesse felt it. She reached out to grab Parker’s arm, her sense of peace shattered.
“Stop,” she rasped.
He sent her a baffled frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t you feel the breeze?”
“So what? You probably left a window open.”
Her stomach clenched. Having Parker with her had allowed her to let down her guard. As if nothing bad could happen as long as she wasn’t alone. Now the terror she’d felt when she was locked in the cellar came crashing back.
“No, everything was locked up before we left.”
Refusing to give into her unease, Jesse calmly circled behind the bar to grab the baseball bat that her dad had kept on a bottom shelf. It wasn’t often he had to resort to violence, but she’d witnessed him knock a three-hundred-pound football player through the window.
Clenching the bat in a death grip, she cautiously made her way toward the foyer.
“Why are you so worried? You said yourself this is Canton, not Chicago.” Parker walked beside her, clearly amused by her attempt to be a weapon-toting badass. “Surely there’s not a lot of crime around here?”
“You’d be surprised,” she muttered, grimly forcing herself to step into the dark foyer and flip the switch. Light from the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling immediately flooded the small area.
The first thing she noticed was that she hadn’t been imagining things.
The back door was wide open, allowing the night breeze to swirl into the building.
The second thing was the motionless form stretched across the wooden planks.
Lowering the bat, Jesse stepped forward.
The person had their back to her, but there was no mistaking the reddish hair and well-worn sundress.
“Oh no. Bea.”
Dropping the bat, Jesse rushed forward, kneeling next to the older woman. Then, gently turning her onto her back, she studied the round face that was pale in the harsh light and the swelling bump just above her right eye.
Jesse shoved her hand into her purse, pulling out her phone and dialing 911. In clipped tones, she reported finding a woman unconscious and gave the address even as the older woman began to stir, a groan wrenching from lips as she lifted her lashes to stare at Jesse in confusion.
“Bea, don’t move,” Jesse commanded, dropping the phone back into her purse. “You’ve been hurt.”
“What?” Bea blinked. “No, I’m fine.”
Jesse pressed a gentle hand against the woman’s chest as she tried to lift herself off the floor. “You’re not fine. You were knocked out. Or you passed out.”
Bea winced, lifting her hand to touch the knot that was turning a dark shade of purple.
“Ouch. I think it was the knocked-out option,” she muttered.
“What happened?”
“I must have tripped and fallen.” Bea’s voice trailed away, her expression confused, as if she was struggling to remember how she’d ended up on the floor. “Wait. No. I was hit.”
Jesse ground her teeth. She wasn’t surprised. It would be too much of a coincidence for the older woman simply to have tripped. Not when Jesse had been stalked and terrorized since her return to Canton.
She could only hope that poor Bea didn’t have a concussion or, worse, a fractured skull.
“Do you know who hit you?” she asked.
Bea started to shake her head, only to flinch in pain. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t get a good look.”
There was the sound of footsteps as Parker belatedly moved to join her, staring down at Bea with a frown.
“Should you be questioning her right now? I doubt she can think clearly after getting whacked on the head.”
“I can think just fine, young man,” Bea snapped, glaring up at Parker. “Who are you?”
Jesse tried not to be angered by Parker’s lack of sympathy. Bea was a stranger to him, after all. Still, he was acting as if he was more annoyed than worried to find the older woman knocked out.
“This is Parker Moreau,” she said.
“The boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Jesse gently brushed a strand of hair off Bea’s face. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Bea reluctantly returned her attention to Jesse.
“I was upstairs watching television when I remembered that the garbageman comes by in the morning. I came down to throw a few bags into the dumpster when I saw someone going into your building.” She waved a hand weakly at the open door.
“I just caught a glimpse, so I assumed it was you. I followed to make sure that you’d eaten dinner.
Then …” Her hand moved to touch her swollen forehead. “Everything went dark.”
“There was someone inside the bar?” Jesse shivered. She’d assumed that someone had been lurking in the alley when Bea caught them. Which was stupid. The only reason the back door would be wide open was if an intruder had managed to break in.
“I’ll take a look around,” Parker said, as if eager to get away from the injured woman.
Bea sent Jesse a strange glance. “So that’s Parker.”
Jesse grimaced. She didn’t want to discuss Parker with Bea. One was a part of her future and the other was her past. The two things had always been separated in her mind. She wanted them to stay that way.
No doubt that was why she’d been so uncomfortable since Parker arrived in Canton.
Jesse shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on Bea as the older woman started to sit up.
“Stay still. I’ve called for an ambulance. They should be here any minute.”
“Oh, Jesse, I wish you hadn’t done that.” Bea’s face flushed, although she obediently lay back down. “I don’t want any fuss.”
“Having EMTs doing their job isn’t a fuss.”
“It’s just a bump.”
Jesse pinched her lips together. She prayed it was just a bump and nothing more serious. She already felt awful that the poor woman was injured. If Bea had some sort of permanent damage, she would never forgive herself.