Finding Tessa by Jaime Hendricks (best ereader for comics .TXT) 📗

was on the doorknob when, of course, everyone started talking over each other.

“Did you have problems in your marriage?”

“Can anyone corroborate where you were last night?”

“Did you notify Tessa’s family?”

“Do the police think she was kidnapped?”

“Have you been contacted for ransom?”

He ignored them all—Evan said not to answer any questions. But of course that grating voice that Carina Killhorn had spoke volumes above everyone else.

“I heard you had blood on your shirt last night. Did you kill your wife, Mr. Montgomery?”

The other questions were docile in nature, for the most part, but this was out of line. Where did she hear that about the blood? Who opened their mouth? Despite being told not to talk, Jace whipped around, furious. “No, Ms. Killhorn, I didn’t kill my wife. Why would you say such a thing?” He was mad, a vein protruding in his forehead, as Evan tried to guide him back inside. Everyone’s eyes were now trained on Jace, a murderer as far as they were all concerned. He couldn’t have that. Jace shoved Evan off him and looked directly at Carina. “You want to be good at your job? Go find my wife.”

The crowd didn’t like that—boos and hisses and general disgruntled moans escaped from their mouths—and the questions kept coming. More like the accusations. He’d screwed up. He should’ve just kept to the prepared speech. Emotions were good; losing control was not.

Emotions—he just remembered that Evan had told him to cry if he was able. He forgot.

But then it hit him like a freight train. He was being accused of murder. Murder.

Tears fell on his face as he was being guided inside, but it was too little too late. His little outburst was going to be everywhere.

Evan slammed the door shut behind them. “Well, that didn’t exactly go as planned. What were you thinking?”

Jace’s heart was beating fast, thump thump thump. Dizzy, he placed his hands on his knees and blew out a long breath.

“Sorry, man. I don’t like being accused of being a murderer. You understand?”

Evan gave him a half smile, dejected, and pat him on the back again. “You want to grab dinner somewhere?”

Evan was Jace’s age and still single, though he did well with the ladies. They liked his intellect, his soft side, and the hipster-meets-Wall-Street vibe he gave off. He looked like a liberal college professor with the beard and the glasses, but wore a tie most days, even if not the full suit. His schedule was always his own.

“Nah, man. Thanks. I can’t go out right now. I’m afraid to even order in. I don’t want to answer the door.” Jace shrugged. “I don’t even know if we have food here. Tessa did all the cooking.”

Tessa did everything. Based on what little he did know about his wife, she was always left to fend for herself growing up in the system, which always gave her a mom complex. She didn’t seem to want children, but she knew how to take care of a man. Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. Errands. Food shopping. Dry cleaner’s. Bail.

She’d mentioned overcompensating when she was beaten in the past. She couldn’t get herself away from abusive men, no matter how hard she’d tried. She always said she was a magnet for men with nefarious motives, and she couldn’t break the cycle. It was like everyone sniffed it out on her and took advantage from the jump.

Evan looked out the window, and people still hovered. “Once this dies down, I’ll run out. Grab a pizza or something from Gianni’s and bring it back here. You’ve still got beer, right?” He smiled.

Jace said yes, then washed out the mugs and put them in the freezer.

12

JACE

Jace woke Saturday morning sprawled on the couch, Candy on the floor next to him. He turned over to stretch, his bones and muscles creaking and cracking, especially his neck. The throw pillows that Tessa had picked out were more for style than for comfort. He tossed the fluffy blanket to the side, another thing more for style as he’d shivered half the night. Candy woke and stuffed her wet nose onto his face for morning kisses.

Last night was as good as it could be, considering the situation he was in. After Evan got back with the Italian food, he widened his eyes and nodded toward the front door. There were still people there. Watching. Waiting. Jace hit the scotch after that. He remembered pizza and some sort of pasta dish with a creamy white sauce, but not much else. Evan must’ve let himself out.

Jace rose and fed Candy first, then let her out in the yard while he tried to find his phone. Where did he put that damn thing? In the kitchen, he searched the counter where Tessa’s phone was plugged into the charger before he gave it to the cops to scan, and his wasn’t there. He patted himself down, as if it was on his person, but he was wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeve T-shirt, neither of which had pockets. Heading to the dining room, he saw it on the bar cart, right next to the scotch. Of course.

When he pressed the home button, there were too many text messages to count, a lot from numbers he didn’t recognize, asking for comments. Fucking social media. Anyone could find out anything about anyone these days. There were also a ton of missed phone calls, but he didn’t bother scrolling through the list—he rarely used the phone to talk anyway. He scrolled through the texts until he found Evan’s, one saying he covered a drunken Jace with the blanket and locked the door behind him. What a good friend.

Then there was a text from his mother.

Honey, Dad and I just got a call from someone named Carina Killhorn. We’ve been calling and calling! Is something going on? She said you murdered Tessa! Where are you?

Fucking Carina, that damn climber.

Jace’s parents had retired to Florida about a year earlier, which fit, since they were