Radclyffe - Homestead

“Listen, Clay,” Ella said evenly, “all kidding aside. I like her—there’s something about her that’s fresh and uncomplicated. Not to mention strong-willed and lovely to look at. She’s different than most of the women I’ve—”

“I know,” Clay said, the heat leaching from her blood as a heavy weight settled in her chest. She didn’t need anyone to tell her Tess was special. She’d known that the first second she’d seen her. “I know she’s all those things. And I don’t have any business questioning you about your motives or your intentions.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You should.” Clay pushed away from the post and started walking again. Her shadow knifed along beside her, eventually fragmenting and disappearing into the dark. Ella caught up to her easily.

“Clay, slow down. You and I—our relationship is unusual. We’re not the typical kind of friends, but we’re more than colleagues. I’m here to do a job, just like you. I’m not immune to the attractions of a beautiful, exciting woman, but it’s not something I need to pursue.”

“No,” Clay said, angry for what she’d already said and what she needed to say now. “Tess is not mine. I’ve got no hold on her, and no designs on her. If you want to see her on a friendly basis or something more than that, go ahead.”

“I don’t want problems between us.”

“There won’t be.” Clay halted at the foot of the walkway leading up to the B&B, suddenly too agitated to face the thought of an empty bed and a silent room. “Go inside and have your dinner. I want to take a walk. I’m meeting Townsend at eight tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“It’s getting late.” Ella glanced at her watch and then back the way they had come. “The tavern is about the only thing open, and that will close in a few minutes. You shouldn’t be—”

“Ella.” Clay laughed. “I’m a big girl. I’ve been out after dark before. Hell, I’ve even been out all night before.”

“I know that.” Ella frowned. “And I know this looks like a quiet little town, but all the same, it’s my job—”

“Get your ass inside and eat your burger before it gets cold.” Clay put on a smile. “I just need a little time to unwind—too many hours reading over paperwork. I promise I’ll look both ways when I cross the street.”

“All right, but keep your phone on and text me when you get back in.”

“Maybe we should just get married,” Clay muttered.

Ella gave her a long look. “Let me know when you’re serious, and I’ll consider it.”

Clay’s heart gave a little trip before she laughed. “Ella, you’re way too much woman for me.”

“Maybe,” Ella said lightly, “but from what I’ve seen, you’re a fast learner.”

“Sometimes. Good night, Ella.”

“I’ll see you at seven,” Ella said.

Clay sketched a wave and turned back the way they’d come. She wasn’t planning on returning to the tavern, she just wanted to walk, and if Tess happened to appear somewhere up ahead, well, that would just be coincidence.

She passed the tavern, but the steps in front were empty now. She was alone on the streets, her footsteps falling in a hypnotic cadence on the sidewalk. Occasionally a pickup truck rattled by, and once, in the distance, a motorcycle engine roared as the rider accelerated through the outskirts of town. Striding past the small business district, she hoped the exercise would tire her out and give her a little peace so she could get some sleep. She should have known better.

Ella and Tess. She didn’t want to imagine them together, but she could. Tess was intelligent and curious and beautiful. Ella was intense and magnetic and alluring. Clay didn’t have to wonder if Ella would be able to make Tess laugh, she’d seen the light in Tess’s eyes earlier. Once upon a time, she’d been the one to put that glow in Tess’s blue eyes, but lately, all she’d done was fill them with storm clouds.

Ella and Tess.

She wasn’t really surprised. Ella almost never dated, and when she did, she kept the details to herself. She wasn’t shy, she wasn’t standoffish. She just didn’t seem to be taken by anyone in the casual kind of way that was the norm for the life they led. Brief encounters, a love affair to last a month or two. Tess had obviously touched a chord in Ella. Maybe that’s what fate was—the simultaneous striking of a note that resonated for two people when they least expected to be captivated.

Clay walked steadily, her gaze unfocused, circling blocks aimlessly, heading away from the few places where lights chased the shadows away. She sought the shadows and hoped the dark would swallow the images she didn’t want to see. Ella and Tess.

She’d completed her fourth or fifth circuit around a mostly deserted block of big Victorians set back from the street and shrouded by trees, when she finally turned back toward the center of the village. As she approached the intersection where the tavern was located, the drone of an engine pierced her awareness and she looked over her shoulder. A vehicle—a pickup truck—coasted slowly up the street, shadowing her, keeping pace five yards behind her. The halogen headlights momentarily blinded her, and she couldn’t tell make or model or even how many occupants were in the vehicle.

She debated turning the corner and heading away from the upcoming intersection. Maybe she was imagining that the truck was following her. But the neighborhood in that direction was dark, the houses closed and shuttered for the night. Better to take her chances in a well-lit area if there was going to be trouble. Just one more street to cross and she’d be half a block from the tavern, where lights and people would discourage an altercation.

More than likely she was only imagining she was being followed, but she’d learned to heed warning signs. Heart beating hard, she checked over her shoulder again just as she reached the corner. The truck had fallen farther behind her now. She looked across the intersection to the other side of the street. Empty—but far down the block, lights flickered in the tavern.

Clay stepped off the curb, hesitated, listening, and when the night held silent, she hurried to cross. The whine of an engine revving split the air when she was halfway across.

Turn back or go forward?

She made a decision and spun back the way she had come, lunging for the sidewalk and the cover of darkness. She had a split second to think that might have been a mistake before the truck caromed around the corner on two wheels and she went flying into the air.

A sharp bang and the screech of tires froze Tess with her hand on the half-open door of her pickup. Turning away from the yellow-orange glow filtering through the front window of the tavern across the street from where she’d parked, she searched in the direction of the sound. The streetlamps were few and far between this far from the center of town, and all she saw were the flickering red taillights of a vehicle disappearing into the darkness down a cross street half a block away. The night was quiet and still. The wind carried the low notes of a quiet cry—or did it?

She was tired, it was after midnight. She was just imagining she’d heard something. Probably just a garbage can knocked over. But then, what if it was a dog or a cat? Oh please, don’t let it be an animal. Fine, she’d check. Better than worrying all the way home.

Pulse hammering, she slammed the door and hurried toward the intersection, dread coiling more tightly in her stomach with every step. Don’t let it be a dog or a cat. Okay, not a squirrel, either. Or a possum or a— Slowing at the corner, Tess stared across the street, struggling to make sense of what she saw. Something in the road, partway up on the sidewalk. But it couldn’t really be a person, could it? Then she heard the sound again, definitely a moan, unmistakably human.

Every thought, every fear, every emotion left her head except one—the all-consuming need to do something. To help.

Racing across the street, she fumbled in the front pocket of her cargo pants for her phone, staring at the not-quite-recognizable shape in the half-light. Then the darkness seemed to part, and features jumped into sharp relief.

“Oh my God, Clay!” Tess dropped to her knees, barely registering the sharp stones digging into her flesh through her cotton pants. She reached out, jerked back. She shouldn’t touch her, right? Shouldn’t move her? But oh God, Clay was staring at her as if she wasn’t even there. “Clay? Clay, oh God, can you hear me?”

Clay pushed up onto an elbow, her head whirling. Every time she breathed, something jabbed her in the side. Sharp and burning. She heard Tess say her name, but she knew that was a dream. Tess was long gone and far away. “Hurts.”

“Lie down, honey, you have to lie down,” Tess’s voice said, close to her ear. Soft and warm and too cruel.

“I know you’re not really here.”

“I am. I’m right here. Clay, lie back down. Oh God, there’s blood—your head is bleeding.”

“Are we at the lake?”

“No, Clay. There’s been an accident.” Tess sounded upset. And scared.

“I didn’t drop my bike, did I?” Clay’s insides clenched. She was always so careful with Tess. “You’re not hurt? Did I—”

“Stay still. I’m all right, I promise. You didn’t crash.” Tess cradled Clay’s jaw when she tried to sit up.

Somewhere a man yelled, “You need help?”

“Yes,” Tess called back, afraid to look away from Clay. Afraid the light in Clay’s eyes might disappear. Her phone lay on the ground where she’d dropped it. She’d forgotten to call. Forgotten everything except Clay. “Call 9-1-1. Hurry.”

“I’m okay,” Clay said, her voice a little thick, but stronger. She braced one arm on the sidewalk and tried to tilt her head back. Her eyes brightened, seemed to focus. “Tess? We’re not at the lake anymore, are we?”