Vanessa was as sweet, caring, funny, smart, capable, and yes, as beautiful and as sexy, as any woman he’d ever met. She wore her heart on her sleeve when it came to those she cared about and he really liked that about her. In fact, there were a lot of things he liked about her.
And she was strong. She hadn’t fallen apart when she realized her shop-which obviously meant everything to her-had been broken into, nor did she freak out when he told her that he thought both the burglary at the shop and the vandalism to his car were somehow a message intended for her. She hadn’t backed away from what was obviously a strong physical attraction between them, but met it head-on without pretense. She’d been brave enough to walk away from a bad situation, and courageous to have faced her abuser and his entire family in open court, and despite their threats, she hadn’t blinked. And somehow she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. What she had lost, however, was her self-confidence. How could she see herself as anything less than beautiful? Anything less than wonderful? What did that tell him about her? How had she come to believe that her scar defined her?
As if she knew he was thinking about her, she stirred slightly, then sighed in her sleep, one hand on his chest like a badge.
That she’d suffered made his heart ache-that she’d suffered at the hands of someone she’d loved made him sick to his stomach.
The longer he thought about it, the sicker-and more angry-he became.
First thing tomorrow, he was going to contact someone at the Bureau and have him check the release status of Eugene Medford.
He awoke to the sound of water driving against glass. He sat up and realized that Vanessa was not beside him, and the sound was coming from the shower in the bathroom across the hall. He got up and dressed in the tuxedo he’d worn to the wedding. Vanessa came out of the shower, her hair in a towel, a robe wrapped around her.
“Hey, you’re awake.” She came into the room with a smile on her face. “And I know I said it before, but you do look good in that tux.”
“Thanks. Admire it while you can.”
“Oh?” She looked momentarily disappointed. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah. The tux goes back to the shop tomorrow. And right now, I’m on my way back to the Inn. I want to grab a shower and change. There’s a black-and-white parked out front, by the way, so you won’t be alone. I already checked the rest of the house. There’s been no unwanted visitors overnight.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s already nine-thirty, and the brunch is… what, eleven?”
She nodded.
“So I’ll take your car, and come back to pick you up around ten of eleven?”
“All right.” She found her keys on her dresser and tossed them to him, and he caught them with one hand. “But I’d like to be there on time since I am hosting the brunch. Are you punctual, or are you more of the, I’ll-get-there-when-I-get-there type?”
“I worked for the FBI, remember? I’ll be here at ten-fifty.”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth.
“I will be here on time,” he promised.
He started out of the room, when the phone began to ring. On his way down the steps he heard Vanessa say, “Good morning, Hal. Yes, I’m fine. Well, we didn’t want to disturb you… yes, I really am fine…”
By the time he’d showered, dressed, and returned for Vanessa, and arrived at Let’s Do Brunch, it seemed that everyone had already heard about the break-in and the vandalism to Grady’s rented car. The discussion of last night’s crimes even threatened to overshadow the rehash of the wedding.
“Did you call your rental company yet?” Andy asked Grady.
“I called this morning before I left the Inn,” Grady replied. “They need a copy of the police report, and they want to come for the car as soon as the police release it. In the meantime, they’ll give me another car. I just have to go pick it up at someplace right outside of St. Dennis. Vanessa said she’d drive me out.”
Hal came into the room two steps behind Maggie. Grady glanced around for Vanessa, to see if she’d noticed, but she was conferring with the hostess and had her back to the group.
“I can fax the police report to your car company if you give me the info.” Hal had apparently overheard Grady. “Speed things up a bit for you.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Grady nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Hal lowered his voice. “I hear you kept an eye on my girl last night.”
Grady nodded, wondering what else Hal might have heard.
“Thank you.” Hal folded his arms across his chest. “Anyone hurts Vanessa, he’ll bring down the wrath of God. I guess you know what I mean.”
Grady nodded again. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Hal meant.
“Yeah, when we get this guy who broke into her shop, tossed her place, there will be hell to pay. Like I said, no one hurts our girl.” Hal slapped Grady on the back and went for the coffee.
Vanessa’s mother had helped herself to coffee from the large carafe that stood on the buffet table, and had strolled over to the doorway to look out upon the passing cars. Grady grabbed a cup for himself and joined her.
“So did you enjoy the wedding, Mrs. Turner?” he asked.
She turned and looked up at him as if surprised that he’d sought her out, but she smiled and said, “It was just beautiful. I’m so glad I came, even if my son wasn’t happy about it. I must say, though, that your sister made me feel welcome.”
“She’s a welcoming kind of person.”
“I hope Beck appreciates her.”
“I’m sure he does.” Grady toyed with an idea for a moment, then asked, “Mrs. Turner, whatever happened to Vanessa’s first husband?”
“Craig?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Last I heard, he was remarried and the father of three little ones and living in New Mexico. Why?”
“Just wondering.” He took a sip from the cup. “And the one she sent to prison…”
Maggie wrinkled her nose to show her displeasure. “Gene. The bastard.”
“Do you know for a fact that he’s still in prison?”
She nodded. “He was, last I heard, maybe six, seven months ago.”
“Has anyone in his family ever contacted you to find out where she is?”
Maggie shook her head. “Nope. Not a one. Fact is, no one has ever even asked about her.” She paused. “Well, except for that girl a week or two ago.”
“What girl?”
“A girl Ness went to high school with was sending out notices about their upcoming reunion and wanted Ness’s address.”
“Now, which reunion would this be?” he asked.
“Well, let’s see now.” Maggie thought it over. “She graduated in 1998… that would make it her twelfth reunion.”
“That’s odd, don’t you think?” Grady said. “Usually reunions are the tenth, or the fifteenth. Did anyone notify her about the tenth reunion?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. Nothing before this.”
Vanessa walked over, a mimosa in her hand. She eyed Maggie suspiciously.
“I was just telling Grady about Shannon calling about your upcoming reunion,” Maggie explained.
“I still have no idea who she is,” Vanessa said.
“You didn’t have a friend named Shannon?” Grady asked.
“I had no friends at all back then,” Vanessa told him.
Maggie frowned. “That is simply not true, Vanessa. Don’t make this nice young man think you were a social outcast.”
Vanessa turned to Grady. “I was.”
“I guess you wouldn’t have a copy of your high school yearbook handy?” he asked.
“I never got one. There wasn’t anything I wanted to remember. Why? You want to see how weird I was back then?”
“Maybe if you looked at Shannon’s picture, you’d remember her.”
“There was no Shannon in my class,” Vanessa insisted.