Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series Page 8

  “So if there’s no snow, how can it feel like Christmas?” he asked her, picking up a French fry, dipping it into a puddle of ketchup on his plate, and popping it into his mouth.

  “I’ve never even seen snow,” she told him.

  He gaped at her. “Never?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not so odd. Some people never do. Besides, what’s so great about snow?”

  He glanced out the window. “It’s cold. That alone should recommend it about now.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “It’s pretty and white.”

  “Until it melts and becomes all dirty and slushy.”

  He offered her a French fry. “I don’t believe you have no romance in you, Tess.”

  She took it. “What can I say?”

  “I saw the way you enjoyed the restaurant that night,” he told her. “I think you’re very romantic.” He reached across the table and touched her hand.

  The sounds of the restaurant faded, and the world narrowed down to just the two of them. Tess felt a flutter of nerves.

  “Logan—”

  “Spoilsport,” he said as he let go of her hand.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes. “So you miss sailing and snow. What else?”

  She watched him hesitate for a moment and reached across the table to put her hand on his. “Talk to me. I still don’t know half as much about you as you do me.”

  He turned her hand over and squeezed it, then withdrew it so that he could pull out his wallet. She watched him take out several photos and spread them on the table before her.

  Tess’s eyes widened. He and another man sat on a hospital bed. Both of them were bald. It felt like her heart leaped into her throat.

  “I miss my buddy, Jason, most of all. He died last year. Cancer.”

  “You shaved your head when he was doing chemo, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “A bunch of us on the force did. It was the least we could do.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Logan slid the photos back into his wallet and returned it to his back pocket. “So I know a little about how you feel about losing a friend.”

  She nodded. “So are you still angry?”

  He pushed his plate away. “You bet. Why do people like Jason have to die and the scum live to a ripe old age?”

  “I’ve struggled with that,” she said quietly. “It’s the big question, isn’t it? But I think I’m coming to terms with it. My pastor’s helped me a lot.”

  “I haven’t been inside a church since Jason’s memorial service. Don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

  “Let me know if you’d ever like to visit—”

  Her cell went off. She checked the display, then took the call. When she finished, she took a last, long drink of her tea.

  “We have to run by Mrs. Ramsey’s. She called in, said someone broke in. We can swing by her house and still make the meeting at the station.”

  “Again?” He tipped up his drink, took a last swallow. “Why do you always take the calls for her?”

  She smiled at him. “I asked to take them. I owe her.”

  Logan wasn’t good with meetings.

  Tess wasn’t either.

  Every time he glanced at her sitting next to him she was doodling on her note pad. When Gordon walked into the room, Logan gave Tess a nudge with his elbow and slanted his eyes at her uncle in a silent message. Tess flipped a clean page over as if she were taking notes.

  “People, we need some progress,” the team leader said in a resigned voice. “We’ve had a stalemate on this for two weeks now.”

  The door opened again, and Logan glanced up. Maria from Records stood there, her face pale.

  “Maria. I—uh, we’re discussing progress right now,” the leader said, getting to his feet. “I’ll come brief you as soon as we’re done.”

  “Progress,” she said in a dull voice. “Does that mean you’ve found Toni’s killer?”

  “We’re doing everything we can.”

  Maria began sobbing. Tess got to her feet and walked over to put her arm around her. She spoke quietly so that Logan didn’t hear, but Maria nodded and let Tess lead her out of the room. Someone shut the door behind them, and the meeting resumed.

  When Tess returned, her cheeks were pale, and Logan could see that her eyelashes were wet. She stared straight ahead as different team members gave their reports. They’d already agreed he would give theirs, and Logan sent up a silent thank you.

  Strategy was discussed for the following week, assignments for follow-ups with neighbors, and the trickle of leads that came in on a tip hotline.

  The meeting broke up and people began filing out of the room.

  When Logan and Tess walked outside into the bright sunlight, he tried to shake off the depression he felt. He didn’t even need to look at Tess to know she was feeling the same way—he could sense it.

  “We need a break.”

  “Duh.” She got into the car and sat there staring sightlessly through the windshield.

  “No, I mean a break away from all of this.” He started the car. “How long will it take for you to change?”

  “Change into what?”

  “Change into something you can wear sailing.”

  She gave a short laugh as she buckled her seat belt. “Did you buy a boat while we were in the meeting?”

  “They have sailboats at the marina, don’t they?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So we’re going to rent one for an hour or two.”

  “What if I have plans?”

  He glanced at her. “Do you?”

  “I was going to go to my quilting guild.”

  “You’re at the quilt shop an awful lot. Spend some time with me, Tess.” He said it quietly and caught himself holding his breath.

  And he wasn’t real happy when she hesitated.

  “I spent all day with you.”

  “Not the same thing. But if you don’t want to—”

  “I want to,” she said finally.

  A tourist walked into the path of the car in front of the fort. Logan slammed on the brakes, and his arm went out to keep Tess from moving forward.

  “Sorry,” he said when he accidentally touched her. “Reflex.”

  She gave him a mild look. “It’s okay. Wow, guy’s guardian angel was on duty today.”

  “I oughta give him a ticket,” he muttered. “Next time he might not be so lucky and he’ll get hurt.”

  He didn’t have to worry about that. A uniformed officer sitting at one of the outdoor tables of a nearby restaurant had seen what happened. He threw down his napkin and met the jaywalker when he stepped onto the sidewalk.

  Logan and Tess exchanged a look.

  “Do you believe in divine justice?” she asked him suddenly.

  “That was man’s justice.”

  A horn honked. Logan waved a hand in apology at the driver behind him and resumed driving.

  “I know. I just wondered if you believed that God takes care of punishing those who sin.”

  “I sure hope so,” he said. “Because I know we’ll never catch everyone who does.”

  He pulled into her driveway. “This going to take long?”

  She made a face at him. “Five minutes.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  Tess lifted her chin. “Time me.”

  Logan checked his watch. “You’re on. Winner buys dinner.”

  She fairly leaped out of the car and ran to her door. In what seemed like a moment later, she was backing out, pulling out her weapon, and gesturing at him to join her.

  He got out of the car, drew his weapon, and joined her.

  “Someone’s been in the house.”

  She went in first and he backed her, then they split up and moved through each room.

  “Clear!” she called.

  “Clear.”

  Tess slid her gun back in its holster. “Okay, now you’re really going to think I’m paranoid.”

 
“Trust your gut,” he told her, still tense as he looked around. “Tell me what looks off.”

  “Someone straightened up a little.” She shook her head, puzzled. “The couch pillows are in different places, and I’d left the newspaper scattered over the top of the coffee table. Stuff like that.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  She frowned. “You know I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  He knew he wanted to be her boyfriend. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he walked around the room. Talk about neat.

  “Remember that case on the news a month or two ago?” he asked her. “Woman broke into someone’s house, cleaned it, then left a bill?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You said your mother died. Would any friends do this?”

  Tess smacked her forehead with her hand. “My aunt. She has a key. I always say she’s obsessive compulsive. She must have come by.”

  She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Yup. Look what my burglar did.” She pulled out a baked chicken, a Tupperware container of potato salad, and one of baked beans.

  “Wow.”

  She opened one cupboard, then another and she grinned. “She grocery shopped for me. When I was at the shop the other day, I complained I hadn’t had time with all the overtime we’ve worked with the murder. I know, you’re thinking I went to quilting class and could have gone shopping instead.”

  “Hey, you needed a break. I don’t care for grocery shopping myself.” He eyed the food. “I don’t suppose you’d consider bringing the chicken along for the sail?”

  “Absolutely. Seems destined, don’t you think? If you don’t mind packing it all up while I change, there’s a picnic basket in the garage.”

  “I’m on it.”

  The garage was as neat as the inside of the house. Logan found the basket easily and packed the chicken, potato salad, and beans, then added the jug of sweet tea he found on the shelf in the refrigerator. He’d stop by the grocery store tomorrow and replace everything, but for now it saved time and was just what he was hungry for when he hadn’t known he’d been hungry for it.

  Maybe his guardian angel was on duty for him today as well.

  Tess returned wearing a baseball cap with the St. Augustine PD insignia, her hair in a long tail pulled through the back of it. Her T-shirt was long-sleeved but her shorts . . . well, they made it seem like her legs went on forever.

  “I packed sunscreen for us. I have to warn you: I don’t have any motion sickness pills, and I didn’t do so well the last time I went for one of those river cruises.”

  He shrugged and picked up the picnic basket. “We can stop for some if you want.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. We’re not going to be out that long, right?”

  “Right.” As much as he wanted to keep her out for hours, they didn’t have all that much daylight left.

  “So, this aunt of yours who straightens up and leaves food for you,” Logan said as he locked the door. “You think she’d consider adopting me?”

  10

  Tess watched Logan guide the sailboat out of the crowded marina and then, when they were clear, he hoisted the sail and the boat sped across the sparkling water.

  Bliss. She lifted her face to the sun and sighed. “This was such a great idea. Whose idea was it?”

  Logan laughed. “You’re not going to try to take credit for it, are you?”

  “Wish I could. Perfect end to the day.”

  “How are you doing?”

  The man saw everything. “Well, I wish I’d had some motion sickness pills on hand, but I think I’ll be okay.”

  He tacked the sails with competent hands and the boat slowed. “Let’s just take it easy for a few minutes and see how it goes. We’re not in a race. We’re out here to relax. And next time we’ll bring those pills for you.”

  Next time. Sounded like a promise. She liked the sound of that.

  But she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t control her body’s reaction to the motion of the waves.

  They’d stopped at his house so he could change into a white T-shirt, khakis, and deck shoes. She liked the way he looked so relaxed and at ease as he stood with his hands steady on the wheel.

  “So, you think you’re going to get a sailboat?”

  “Will you come sailing with me, if I do?”

  She nodded. She had a feeling she might be buying a lot of motion sickness pills.

  “Hungry yet?”

  “I was born hungry,” she said with a sigh.

  They dropped anchor and dug into the food. Well, Logan did. Tess took it careful, eating a little roast chicken and a few small spoonfuls of the potato salad and baked beans. Everything tasted good, but she decided to be cautious. She could always have more at home later, if she was still hungry.

  The sun, the breeze, the rocking motion of the boat . . . they all combined to make Tess drowsy after her busy day. She slapped a hand over her mouth as a huge yawn overtook her. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so sleepy.”

  She sighed as she leaned back on the bench and stared up at the sail fluttering in the breeze off the water. “It’s so beautiful out here. No wonder why you love sailing.”

  “Maybe you’re finally truly relaxing.”

  The sailboat rocked gently. They could see all the movement on the shore, but out here it was quiet and restful.

  “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “I’m stuffed.” He patted his stomach. “Your aunt’s baked chicken was amazing.”

  “Sorry you couldn’t eat the potato salad. I didn’t realize you were allergic to onions.”

  “Her baked beans more than made up for it.”

  Tess yawned again and reached for her sweet tea. Maybe the caffeine would help. She watched as her hand missed the glass, and she had to concentrate on picking it up. The plastic glass slipped from her hand and fell onto the deck. Funny thing . . . she didn’t care. She watched it roll onto the deck.

  “Tess? Tess? Are you okay?”

  She blinked. It was hard to focus, and her head felt so heavy she felt like she had to hold it up.

  Logan’s face came nearer. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “I’m just so tired,” she whispered. Talking took too much effort. She pulled her legs up and stretched out on the bench she’d been sitting on. “I’m sorry, can you take me home? I need to go to bed.”

  She felt his hands grasp her arms and shake her. “Tess, did you take something at the house? You said you didn’t have any motion sickness pills.”

  “No . . . didn’t have any,” she muttered, feeling irritable. “Need to sleep. That’s all. You sail on without me.”

  She batted away his hand when he touched her eye, but he was relentless, holding the lid open so that too much sun poured in, making her head hurt.

  “Your pupils are dilated,” he said, doing the same thing to the other one.

  “Just let me sleep for a few minutes,” she begged, curling up into a ball.

  “Something’s wrong,” she heard him say, and it seemed like he was talking from a long way away.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. But something didn’t seem right.

  “You’re sure you didn’t take anything?”

  “No.”

  She heard a rustling and forced her heavy eyelids open. He was searching through her purse. “Hey, that’s private property.”

  “Sue me,” he muttered. “You don’t even have an aspirin in here. Did you take something at your house?”

  “You asked me that.” Her head fell back against the bench. She heard snoring. Someone was snoring. Was he sleeping, too?

  She heard talking. Logan was talking to someone. Who else was on the boat? Feeling groggy, she blinked. He was using his cell phone. Rude. That was rude. She shouldn’t be sleeping, but he had asked her to come out here with him, and now he was talking with someone he called Zach.

  It was tough to sit up but she forced herself up, forced her eyes to open. Rag doll. Sh
e felt like a rag doll, no spine at all. Then she came to attention and went rigid. Waves of nausea came over her, slow at first and then stronger. The shoreline bobbed up and down. Her stomach roiled. She leaned over the side of the boat and threw up.

  “Tess!” Logan shouted, and she felt his hand grasp the back of her shirt. “Hold on, she’s throwing up again!” he yelled.

  The cell phone plunked onto the cushion beside her. She could hear someone shouting, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. Logan’s arms went around her, and he dragged her back against him.

  “No, I have to throw up again!” she cried, and he relaxed his hold but held onto her as she leaned over the side and retched until her sides hurt and collapsed against him.

  “I’ve got to get you back to shore,” he said. “Hold on, Tess. You’re going to be all right.”

  She’d had flu so bad once she’d been hospitalized and wondered if she were going to survive. But this was the sickest she could ever be. She was no drama queen, but she thought she was going to die.

  Logan hadn’t felt so helpless since he sat beside his friend Jason’s bed as he talked about dying.

  “Hang on, Tess, I’m going to get you some help.” He cradled her in one arm as he dialed 911, identified himself, and told the dispatcher he needed a paramedic. She got the information from him and promised help would be waiting at the dock.

  He laid her on the bench and kept an eye on her as he pulled up the anchor, turned the boat around, and headed to shore. The trip took only minutes, but they seemed to drag like hours.

  Two paramedics came onto the boat and assessed Tess. She was still pale, but it seemed like she was starting to come around.

  “Hey there, pretty lady, can you tell me your name?”

  “You know very well that it’s Tess,” she said tartly, flinching as he shone a light into her eyes. “Geez, Hank, you gotta be pretty desperate to flirt with me looking like this.”

  “Desperate’s his middle name,” the other paramedic responded with a grin as he wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm.

  Hank snickered and turned to Logan. “So tell me her symptoms.”

  Logan met Tess’s gaze. She wasn’t just the woman he cared about—she was his partner, another law enforcement officer. He didn’t know what had happened, but he did as he’d advised her earlier at her house: he trusted his gut. Tess wouldn’t do drugs. Something in the food had made her sick.