Defender for Hire. Shirlee McCoy
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if I remembered.”
Logan stilled, his face tight with irritation. “That’s a big piece of information to leave out.”
“She didn’t leave it out,” Seth responded before Tessa could. “She’s telling you now.”
Tessa didn’t need his support, and she should have told him that. But the truth was, it had been years since anyone had stood in her corner, and even though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, it felt good to have Seth there.
Plus, there were too many other things to worry about. Like trying to explain why she hadn’t immediately told Logan about the whispered words.
“Everything happened so quickly,” she murmured.
“I understand, but I need to know that I have all the details. Is there anything else I should know?” Logan looked up from the notebook.
Could she tell him about the roses?
Probably—the roses weren’t part of her secret.
“Every year someone brings me a black rose on the anniversary of the massacre. It’s been happening for five years, but there’s never been anything else.”
“Until today,” Seth reminded her.
“Until today,” she agreed.
“Did you get a rose today?” Logan asked, his expression grim and hard.
“I did. It was left on the hood of my car.”
“Do you still have it?”
She shook her head, her eyes hot and gritty. She was saying too much, but she didn’t know what else to do. “I threw it into the yard this morning.”
“Left or right of the driveway?”
“Left.”
“I’m going to see if I can find it, then I’m heading out onto the trail. Hopefully, I’ll be able to collect some evidence. Stay put until I come back.”
He strode from the room, his boots tapping on the hardwood floor. The front door opened, then closed.
Tessa went to the stove and lifted the kettle, pouring hot water into a mug and dunking a tea bag in it—and avoiding Seth’s eyes. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed, his hair a little windblown. He looked good, and that wasn’t something she wanted to notice.
She yanked sugar from the cupboard and scooped two large spoonsful into her tea. “I appreciate your help tonight, Seth, but I don’t want to take up more of your time.”
“Is that a subtle dismissal?”
“I didn’t think I was being subtle, but you’re welcome to call it that.”
“Touché.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But before I go, how about you tell me the rest of the story? I know you’re holding back.”
An image flashed through her mind—blood pouring over her hands as she tried to staunch the flow. Daniel’s pale face and pale lips and dark, dark eyes. It was worth it, he’d whispered, and then he’d told her to go.
She closed her eyes, her head spinning.
Seth caught Tessa by the shoulders as she seemed to stumble forward. “You’d better sit down, Tessa.”
“I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t look okay to him. “I told Logan everything. There’s nothing more to say.”
Seth pulled the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Tessa. “You didn’t tell him about this,” he said.
He didn’t think she’d look inside it. He probably wouldn’t have if he were in her shoes. Not in front of someone else. And not if he knew it was somehow connected to his past.
She smoothed her fingers over the flap, her eyes dark and troubled. “This I really did forget about.”
“Do you want to look inside before I give it to Randal?”
“I’d rather it just stay sealed.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve spent five years trying to escape the past, and whatever is in here will probably just tie me to it.”
“Only you can do that, Tessa.”
Tessa shrugged, a silky strand of hair escaping her ponytail. His fingers itched to brush it away.
He clenched his fists, surprised by the longing.
In the six years since Julia’s death, he’d dated a few women, trying to fill the aching loneliness that losing her had left. It hadn’t worked, and eventually he’d given up on the idea. He’d been happy with the decision, never doubting it even once.
Lately, though, he’d been yearning for the kind of connection that came from loving someone completely, from trusting her with every part of who he was.
“I guess I can’t put this off forever,” Tessa muttered.
Seth covered her hand before she could open the envelope. “Put these on first. We don’t want to contaminate any evidence.” He pulled leather gloves from his pocket and handed them to her.
“You’ve been carrying the envelope around all day. Do you really think there’s going to be any evidence on it?” she asked, but she slid her hands into the gloves.
“I’m not worried about the outside. I want to protect what’s inside.”
She nodded, sliding her finger under the flap and carefully opening the envelope. She pulled out a photograph, stared at it for a moment, her expression unreadable. “What is it?” Seth asked, leaning over to get a look.
She shook her head and shoved the photo back into the envelope before he could get more than a glimpse of three people standing near a mud hut.
“Just another reminder of things I wish I could forget. Can you bring it to Logan?” she asked, taking off the gloves and sliding them across the table. He shoved them back into his pocket.
“Sure,” he replied, taking the envelope she held out to him, his fingers brushing hers. A jolt of heat shot up his arm, that one touch reminding him of what he’d lost. What he’d told himself he’d never look for again.
Tessa’s eyes widened and she pulled back, brushing her fingertips against her jeans as if that could somehow change what they’d both felt. “You should probably wait outside for Logan.”
This time, he didn’t ignore her dismissal.
He needed a little space, a little time to think about the reaction that he’d had to that simple touch.
He pulled a business card from his wallet and dropped it on the table. “I’ll see you next week. If you need anything before then, give me a call.”
“Thanks.” She offered a half smile, flashing the dimple in her cheek. She was a beautiful woman. There was no doubt about that. But she had a boatload of baggage.
Not that Seth could point fingers—he had his fair share of baggage, too.
He walked outside, needing the cold night air to clear his head. Randal was nowhere in sight. Seth leaned against the porch railing to wait for him, the envelope and photo heavy in his hand.
It was none of his business.
He knew that.
But something in Tessa’s eyes made him want to make it his business. Not the fear or the sadness, but the raw strength that he sensed had carried her through something terrible.
He slid the photo out of the envelope, careful to touch only the edges.
Tessa standing between two men. She looked young and carefree, a long blue dress covering her slim figure and a baseball hat shielding her eyes. Her hair was longer, the deep-red braid falling over