The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 by Paula Lester (best ereader for comics .txt) 📗

floated in her mind. Then, she leaned against Linda's driver-side door.

So much for keeping Gloria out of it. She’d messed up. Badly. First, she’d managed to get Silas into big trouble, and now Lark had been hauled away to jail. Not only that, but Lark also thought she had a connection with real lawyers, and she didn't because Tessa had lied.

What was she thinking? She shouldn't have used that ruse to get into Lark's home to talk to her or to get into the reading of the will.

Tessa had always thought she was a good person. One who told the truth. Before she became a grim reaper, she’d done nothing more than the occasional little white lie here and there. Sometimes, she would tell elderly ladies like Mrs. Cross she liked their hair instead of telling them the style came and went in the Eighties. Tessa considered herself ethical, moral, and decent. But lately, the lies were piling up, and people were getting hurt because of them.

She should have let this whole thing go, just like Gloria said. After Silas was cleared of Mr. Green's murder, she should’ve let the whole matter go. There was no way she could solve this case. She didn't even have a right to try.

Misery seemed to soak into every cell in her body. Remorse and guilt warred with embarrassment in her thoughts.

She checked her phone screen, but Gloria hadn’t answered yet. What was she going to be able to do about it anyway? Tessa had gotten herself and others into this mess—why should her friend need to get involved, wade into the lies and mistakes, and bail her out?

But she had no idea what to do next—or how to fix this.

She heard the mansion’s front door start to open and, on a whim, dashed around the back of Linda, crouching low in the bushes. There were still a few stray cars in the driveway from the reading, so Tessa hoped whoever was coming out wouldn’t recognize her old Buick.

She peered around the car's back fender and saw Hannah coming outside with an officer. They were chatting in low tones, but Tessa couldn't hear what they were saying. She wanted to get closer.

The pair descended the porch steps and then headed around the house, and Tessa scurried forward, mindful of the cameras on the corners of the house. She may not be good at keeping her friends out of trouble, but Tessa had proven to be fairly talented at staying in the shadows. She really wanted to know what Hannah and the detective were talking about.

As they approached the back end of the house, Hannah and the officer continued toward the horse paddock. Tessa put on a burst of speed to get closer, and she could finally hear them.

"That's a big favor I just did for you," the detective said. "We don't really have much evidence against Lark."

Hannah leveled a cool look at her companion. "Well, this gives you time to find it. I told you, and your handwriting expert will verify it, that the note Nathaniel left wasn't written in his handwriting. That signature looked like his but not the rest."

The detective kicked at a stone in his path, and it tumbled up the gravel lane ahead of them. "Assuming you're right, that doesn't mean it was Lark’s handwriting."

Hannah crossed her arms over her chest, as though her sleeves weren't thick enough to keep out the autumn chill. "That's true. But just think about it for a minute. Who else had a motive to murder my father?"

The detective stopped in his tracks and barked out a laugh. "Well, I can think of a few people." His tone was sarcastic as he inclined his head toward Hannah and gave her a pointed look.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!" She kept walking, and the officer lengthened his strides to catch back up with her. "When my father died, I was with my husband, and when Nathaniel died, I was here with my mother. She often needs help during the night, and I don't trust the staff enough to leave her alone with them."

"Did she need you last night?"

"No. Mom took a sleeping pill and slept through the night. She even slept in a little, which isn’t like her. This whole affair is weighing heavily on her."

They walked in silence for a while until they arrived at the fence line. Hannah put her hands on top and stared out into the paddock. Then she made a kissing noise with her mouth, and several horses looked up from where they had been munching. Slowly, they began to make their way over to her.

The officer didn't touch the fence, and he didn't look at the horses. His attention was on Hannah. "What about this Silas St. Onge guy? The one we originally arrested. Where does he come in?"

She shrugged and held out her hand for the first horse who arrived, a chestnut gelding. He whinnied a greeting and then grabbed the carrot out of her hand. "I don't know Silas. Why?"

The officer took half a step away from the fence, as though he were slightly afraid of the horse. He kept an eye on the creature as he spoke. "We believe he may have been planted by someone. You know, to take the fall. He wouldn’t say why he was here that morning, only that he was a fan of Mr. Green and trying to catch a glimpse."

Hannah's head whipped around, and she pinned the officer with a hard look. "You know we’ve had folks like that before.”

"Yeah, well, we've got him under surveillance now. Is that thing dangerous?" He gestured toward the horse.

Hannah laughed. "Of course not. He's as gentle as they come. Would you like to take a ride?"

Tessa crept away, guilt an even more crushing presence than it had been a moment before.

Silas was under surveillance? This was all her fault.

Well, there was one silver lining in what she'd managed to find out. The police knew