The Secrets of Bell River. Kathleen O'Brien
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minute his feet hit the floor and gathered him in for a tight, half-suffocating hug.
“Idiot,” she said raggedly, burying her face in his hair. “You impossible, ridiculous, infuriating idiot.”
“Well, Ellen dared me.” He pulled free and began stuffing his shirt into his jeans. “She double-dog dared me,” he repeated, as if that were an absolute defense.
“I did not,” the little girl countered, scowling fiercely at Alec.
“Enough.” Dallas’s voice had taken on a completely different quality now, carrying the unmistakable authority of an angry dad. “Upstairs, both of you. I’ll be up later to let you know whether we’ve decided to toss you to the wolves or eat you for dinner.”
The kids scurried away. As they exited, though, they could be heard giggling, which drained the moment of its drama. A relieved chatter rose from the room’s occupants, and life seemed to resume.
Now that the commotion was over, Tess felt dizzier than ever and miserably uncomfortable. She felt out of place and conspicuous, like the interloper she was. This was obviously not the time to bring a new problem to Rowena’s door.
But to her surprise, Rowena walked calmly toward her. “Hey,” she said. “So sorry about the chaos.”
“No, no. I’m the one who is sorry, for intruding on—”
“Don’t be silly.” As Dallas walked past, Rowena squeezed his hand. “Just your average Monday night at Bell River Ranch, right, Sheriff?”
“Yep.” He shook his head, grinning. “We should have let him break something, you know. Not his neck maybe, but a finger? A toe? If he keeps escaping unscathed, he’ll never learn anything important.”
“Sure he will.” Rowena put her hand against her husband’s cheek. “He’ll learn his family is always here to catch him when he falls. What’s more important than that?”
The heat of tears stung Tess’s eyes, and, though it seemed weak, she had to look away. This moment was private, in spite of the guests and the staff and the whole circus aura of the moment. She should not be here. She should not be here.
“Anyhow, sorry to keep you waiting.” Rowena returned her attention to Tess. “Gray said you needed to talk to me?”
Suddenly drained by the whole wretched day, Tess found herself eager to get it over with. She plucked the folded note from her uniform pocket. “It’s nothing serious. I just...I found this slipped in behind the door plaque as I closed up tonight.”
Rowena frowned as soon as she saw the paper, and Tess knew instantly. This wasn’t the first anonymous note they had received.
“Oh, hell,” Rowena said under her breath. She unfolded the paper and read the red words written there. “I’m sorry. We should have warned you. We get these from time to time. There are people in Silverdell, it seems, who can’t let the past go.”
Tess wondered exactly what that meant. Who exactly were the dirty bitches? The three Wright daughters? They had told Tess the whole story the night they hired her—not realizing that, of course, she already knew it. Tess couldn’t help wondering whether they would have mentioned it, if the ghost-whisperer maid hadn’t run into Moira Wright’s ghost that night.
Maybe they would have. This didn’t seem to be a family that played things close to the vest. Perhaps years ago they’d learned that secrets were dangerous...or maybe they’d learned that it was impossible to keep secrets for long.
Either way, they’d explained the basic facts: Johnny had been convicted of deliberately pushing their mother down the staircase, and Moira had been exposed as an unfaithful wife, who had been carrying another man’s baby. But both of the principal players in the melodrama were dead now, long gone. Surely it was a little Victorian to continue to punish the daughters for the sins of the parents.
And...dirty? Odd choice of insults. Tess hadn’t met Penny yet—though she’d seen her petite, shadowy outline in the living room, standing in the projector’s beam as she pointed to something on a photo. But Rowena and Bree were about as far from dirty or bitchy as two women could get.
Rowena must have sensed Tess’s confusion. “Some people simply believe we had a bad gene pool. They keep waiting for us to turn into nymphomaniacs, or kill each other, or something.”
She laughed when she said it, but Tess heard an undercurrent of pain beneath the mirth. Rowena acted tough, but perhaps something softer lay beneath?
“Not they,” Dallas corrected gently. “It’s probably just one person. You know most of Silverdell is on our side.”
Tess could imagine how unsettling it must be to walk the streets of Silverdell, wondering whether every face might be the face of this anonymous enemy. “Do you know who it is?”
Rowena shook her head. “No. There are a few likely suspects, sourpusses and sleazeballs who haven’t gotten along with Bell River for decades. But no proof against anyone.”
Dallas put his arm around Rowena. “The department has looked into it, and continues to do so. Is it okay if I send someone to the spa tomorrow to talk to you about anything you might have seen?”
Tess nodded. She thought about mentioning the dustup with Mrs. Fillmore, and especially the odd disappearance of Marley Baker, but she was too tired to go into it now. In fact, she felt more than a little woozy. She realized she hadn’t ever stopped for a meal all day. She hadn’t eaten a single bite since last night. No wonder she felt so bad.
“Tomorrow’s fine,” she said. “I don’t think I have any clients around the lunch hour, if that would work for you.”
“Tess,” Rowena said, her voice suddenly urgent. “If you feel that...” She paused, as if searching for the right phrasing. “If it makes you so uncomfortable that you would rather not stay...I want you to know we wouldn’t hold it against you. We would provide an excellent recommendation—”
“No.” Tess appreciated the gesture, but no way was she leaving because of some snake like Marley Baker. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all. This is the work of a coward who doesn’t even have the nerve to make his comments face-to-face.”
With her last ounce of energy, she turned to Dallas, trying to project the certainty he’d shown his son. “I’ll see someone from your office tomorrow, then?”
She thought she might have seen a glimmer of respect in his gaze. He nodded.
“Tess,” Rowena said, “would you like to stay to—”
Again Tess interrupted Rowena. She was giving out. Her legs had begun to feel like wobbly strings, and her stomach churned acidly. She was afraid she might pass out, or even vomit, if she didn’t get home.
Home. Well, the hotel that was passing for home right now, anyhow. The job included a cabin, but it wasn’t ready yet, though Jude Calhoun was putting the finishing touches on it. Tonight, though, where she landed didn’t matter. Anywhere with a bed and a cup of hot tea would suffice.
She mumbled something she hoped was civil and headed to the door. In an excess of courtesy, Rowena and Dallas escorted her, but if they made small talk, Tess didn’t hear it. A dull roar had started in her ears, and she couldn’t even hear herself think.
She must have said the right things, because finally the door closed behind her, and she was alone on the porch, with the lights and the scent of the garlands.
Oh, no. She put her hands against her stomach, feeling bile rise. She loved the smell of pine, and yet right now she found it the most repulsive odor in the world. Her stomach heaved, and she lost focus.
She had to get home. She pulled out her phone, but there was no one to call, was there? All she saw was the missed call log—two more from Craig, who simply would not give up. She hadn’t even felt the vibration from incoming calls. She’d been running so hard all day.