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

“Hmm.” She leaned on the desk and studied him for a moment. She knew Chet Sanborn wanted to talk to his son. If he was at home, maybe she’d find the errant spirit there. Since she’d decided to keep her reaper job, apprehending him was back on her short list of things to get done.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” She turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?” He sounded suspicious. “You just got here—you didn’t even go to your apartment yet.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Um. I just remembered an errand I need to run.” She winced, hearing her own tone sounding like an evasion. Tessa had never been a good liar.

“Listen,” Silas said, “If you’re going to Mark Sanborn’s house, I’m going with you. I learned my lesson last time.”

“You did?”

“After I dropped you off at that casino, I worried about you like crazy. Felt like a horrible friend for leaving you there in a possibly dangerous situation. I don’t want to deal with that again—it’ll throw off my whole day.” He came around the counter. “And I’ll drive. I don’t feel like getting stranded by that bucket of rust you call a car.”

“Hey! Linda isn’t rusty. She’s just . . . finicky.” Tessa followed him out to his Silverado. Tessa gave Linda a frown. “Don’t tell her, but I’m saving up for something newer and more reliable.”

“That’s nice.” He fired up the truck’s engine. “And in the meantime, I can probably keep her going for you.”

“You know how to fix cars too?” Tessa wondered what this man couldn’t do.

“Some,” he said. “My dad and I used to work on them a lot when I was a kid. I picked up some tricks. So, where’s this guy live?”

Tessa gave him directions to Mark and Mary Sanborn’s house and enjoyed the feeling of the warm cab as they drove over. They turned into the large suburban community where the houses all shared design aesthetics and the same size lots. People were outside, walking or playing catch in their yards. After the cold, rainy snap they’d had, everyone was soaking up the sun.

They pulled up in front of the Sanborns’ house and got out. Tessa hurried around the truck and intercepted Silas. “You can wait here for me if you want.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m coming in with you.”

“Why?” Having a driver was one thing, but Silas would definitely interfere if she found Chet’s spirit. He’d probably think she went crazy if she started talking to an unseen entity.

“I’m not convinced the cops didn’t let a murderer go free.” He crossed his flannel-clad arms. “And I’m not sending you in to face a killer alone. Sorry. You’re stuck with me.”

She eyed him for a moment. His face was set into hard lines, and his shoulder and arm muscles looked tense. He resembled a dangerous, angry lumberjack. “Fine. But let me do the talking, okay? You’re kind of . . . intimidating right now.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m not intimidating. I’m totally guy-next-door friendly.”

That was true most of the time. Silas was the type of guy people wanted to tell their life story.

“Maybe you should stay here while I talk to Mark.” Smugness oozed out of his body language.

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Let me do the talking, Mr. Guy-next-door.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about, Tessa?” Silas asked as they opened the picket fence to the yard. “It’s about your new job, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not going to be telling any lies to get answers, are you? Because, honestly, you’re terrible at it.”

“And you’re a good liar, huh?” She climbed the steps to the stoop and then dug in her purse for a ponytail holder to pull back her long hair.

Silas shrugged. “I haven’t had much occasion to lie in my life, but anyone would be better at it than you. You have a tell.”

“I do?”

He nodded. “You bite your bottom lip right before you say something untrue. It’s a basic, beginner’s tell. You should work on it if you intend to do much lying.”

She blinked at him, dumbfounded. Tessa had no idea it was that easy to see she was lying, but it explained so much. Like how her dad had always known when she was lying as a teenager. “Huh. I didn’t know I did that.”

“Yeah, well, stick with this life insurance thing, okay? I don’t think we’ll be seeing you on World Series of Poker anytime soon.” He chuckled.

Before she could stop herself, Tessa bit her bottom lip, just thinking about the lie that she was strictly a life insurance agent. Luckily, Silas wasn’t looking at her—he was knocking on the door. She forced her lip back out and straightened her spine.

Mary Sanborn answered the door. She looked confused until she glanced past Silas and spotted Tessa. “Oh, hello again. Is there some paperwork or something that got missed?”

Tessa shook her head. “No, I was just wondering if I could talk to your husband for a moment. Is he home?”

Over Mary’s shoulder, Tessa saw a familiar form flit through the air. Chet Sanborn’s spirit was there! She fought the urge to barrel over Mary to get to him, forcing her expression to stay relaxed and pleasant.

Mary glanced over her own shoulder and looked uneasy. “He’s in his office catching up on a few things. He got behind with work while he was . . . detained.”

“We heard the police let him go,” Silas interjected. “That’s good news. Do you know if they arrested someone else?”

Mary shook her head and stood aside to let them in. “No, the officer who released Mark said they didn’t have any other leads.”

They followed Mary through a cozy living room filled with worn furniture and discarded toys. Tessa continuously scanned for another sign of the ghost. They went down a short hall, past a bathroom, to a bedroom that had been converted to an office.

Mark sat behind a desk piled high with papers,