Detective Warren had dropped her off at the house just a few minutes after 8:00, the storm churning around them.
They’d talked about surface stuff on the way: what Tessa was hoping to do during the summer (check out the Smithsonian, Library of Congress, maybe the NSA museum, the Spy Museum, things like that), and if she had a boyfriend (nada), and if she was thinking about college yet (yeah, maybe Brown or USC; maybe Duke), what she wanted to study (that’s easy-double major in English and Deep Ecology).
When they arrived at the house, Detective Warren had offered to stay with her, but Tessa told her not to worry about it. “I’ll be fine. Seriously. But thanks for the ride.”
“All right. Lock the doors.” And even though she was nowhere near old enough to be Tessa’s mother, she sounded parental.
“I will.”
“Good night.”
Tessa hesitated before climbing out of the car. “You’re not just here to take a bunch of classes, are you?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “I know how you feel about Patrick. I could tell. In Denver.”
A long pause. “Good men are hard to find.” At this point, the detective sounded more like a sister than a parent. Guy talk between two girls.
“So you came here to win him back?”
“I never had him, Tessa.”
“What about your ex-husband? Aren’t you two-”
“Tessa.”
She waited, expecting to hear that it wasn’t any of her business, but Detective Warren went a different direction. “We’re getting along again-and that’s a good thing. But we’ll never be close like we were. That’s over.”
It was hard to know how to respond.
Actually, Tessa respected her for her frankness and for pursuing what really mattered to her, and from everything she’d seen, Cheyenne and Patrick really would make a good couple. “He likes you too,” she said at last, though she wasn’t sure she should have. “Patrick does.”
Detective Warren was quiet. “I should probably go. Good night, Tessa.”
“G’night.”
“And lock those doors, okay?”
“Right.”
Then Tessa hurried through the rain, using her body to protect the mail she’d grabbed at the end of the driveway on the way to the house.
Then inside.
Door closed.
Locked.
Ever since being attacked and nearly killed by a serial killer whom Patrick had been tracking last October, she’d learned to be extra cautious. She checked the back door, confirmed that it was locked.
Okay.
Good to go.
But now, three hours later, Patrick still wasn’t home.
She knew that he hadn’t gotten over Lien-hua yet, but if things weren’t going to work out there, she felt like he should totally hook up with Detective Warren.
However, it was obvious he liked them both, and honestly, so did she. It would have been a lot simpler if one of the women had been a real loser, but Detective Warren, the forthright cowgirl, and Agent Jiang, the introspective beauty, were both pretty amazing women.
Tessa checked her laptop once more, and this time she saw the email icon flashing.
With a small shiver of the guilt that comes from going behind someone’s back, she tapped the space bar. Tessa, Hey! You’re not going to believe this. I’m in DC! Only for the next couple days-a friend of mine has a few sculptures that are showing at the Hirshhorn Museum. I have the middle of the day tomorrow free and I’d love to see you. I could meet at 10:30 or so. I’m thinking by the Capitol, maybe? I know a few people and I think I can get you a tour of the House gallery. Let me know. Love, Paul
Oh.
Unbelievable.
Not good.
Not good at all.
She reread the letter.
Tomorrow!
Why didn’t he tell you about this sooner? Why would he A pair of headlights turned from the road and began meandering down the long, winding driveway to the house.
Oh, man.
Patrick.
Tessa couldn’t think of any way of telling him what was going on-no, no, no, not right now. He’d been suspicious of Paul from the start, and if he found out she’d been emailing Paul like this behind his back, he’d be furious.
Besides, even if he would give her permission to meet with Paul, there was no way he’d be happy about it.
No way in the world.
Enough with the emails. There’s stuff you need to talk to Paul about. Go see him, get your answers, then sort everything out with Patrick tomorrow night.
She typed in her reply to Paul.
The garage door opened.
Patrick was home.
13
I heard Tessa rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen. “That you?” I called.
“How could the answer to that question possibly be no?”
I paused.
Good point.
She appeared, crossed the room, and plopped onto the couch.
“Did you have a good night?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You? Was it bad? At the primate place?”
I let my eyes ask her how she knew where I’d been, and she flipped her thumb toward the television. “I saw you on TV.”
“Perfect.”
“It’s all over the news.”
I sighed. “Yeah, well, the media is going to have a field day with this one.”
She’d piled the mail on the coffee table beside her laptop, and I picked up the stack and started shuffling through it as we spoke: the latest issues of Sports Illustrated and Soldier of Fortune, both addressed to Freeman Runnels, the man who was letting us stay in his home for the summer… “Did you thank Detective Warren for the ride?”
“Patrick, I’m not five.”
“I know that.” A handful of sales flyers, a few credit card offers-all for Runnels.
“So, don’t treat me like it. I know when to say please and thank you.”
I looked up and saw that she was giving me an irritated stare.
“I’m just making sure you were polite,” I said.
“I’m the queen of polite.”
I blinked. “You’re the queen of polite?”
A raised eyebrow. “Careful.”
“I’m just saying.”
She laid her book on the couch and stood. “I gotta get to bed.”
“Hey, are you feeling all right?”
“Sure, yeah.” Her tone softened. “I’m just, you know. Worn out, I guess. I have a big day tomorrow.”
Back to the mail again. “I thought you were gonna hang out around here. Read?” Hardly anyone knew we were staying here, so I was surprised to see an official-looking letter addressed to me from a law firm in DC.
“Yeah, I mean, I was thinking I might take the VRE train to the city. Maybe see if I can get a reader’s card for the Library of Congress. I hear they’re pretty cool about giving them out to students. Is that all right?”
The Library of Congress was the biggest library in the world. A bibliophile’s paradise. I knew it was her mandatory mecca for the summer. She’d talked to me earlier about getting a reader’s card to get access to the main reading room, so her request wasn’t a surprise.
As I ripped open the letter I realized I couldn’t think of any good reason not to let her go, except that I didn’t really like the idea of her wandering around the District of Columbia alone.
Ease up. She’s seventeen.
“Sure, that’s fine. I’m teaching most of the day tomorrow anyway.” Then a thought. “I’ll be in class from 8:00 to 11:00, and then from 2:00 until 5:00. I have a meeting in between there, but I should have enough time to sneak to DC, grab lunch, and get back to the Academy. What do you say? Hang out together for lunch?”
You’ll never make it, Pat. Not with the briefing… the drive alone could take you “Lunch.” A slight pause. “Yeah.”
Good.
I’d find a way to make it to DC in time.
After an awkward moment, she headed for her room, but I called after her. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”
She didn’t turn around. “Yeah.”
“I love you,” I said.
Her bedroom door swung open. “You too.”
She went in, clicked it shut.
Yes, definitely spend some time talking tomorrow.