She was simply the temp filling in for a beloved co-worker who was on maternity leave.
Part of her relished the anonymity of it. She’d hated the spotlight she’d been under in her marriage as the TV pastor’s wife. But sometimes she couldn’t help feeling the loneliness of it now. Besides Sam, she had no one here. No roots. No friends. Not even co-workers she could get to know. She’d hoped to find a more permanent job by now, but the market was tough for entry-level positions and though she was taking night classes, she didn’t have the fancy experience to put on a resume yet.
Hell, maybe she should’ve just stayed with Doug. They could’ve lived their separate lives in the same house and pretended to still be together in public. She’d known couples who’d done that. She could’ve put all her effort into charity work and not had to worry about if she’d have enough money for the gas bill or if that noise outside at night was some criminal in her not-so-desirable neighborhood trying to break in.
But then she’d have to look at Doug’s smug face every day. I told you so. I told you that you couldn’t survive on your own.
Screw that. She shook her head, disgusted that’d she’d even entertained the thought. Another day in that house with Doug and she’d probably be sitting in a jail for attempted murder. Her life now may not be posh or flashy, but at least she could wake up every day knowing that everything she had was hers and hers alone. No one was paying her way. No one owned her.
She’d figure out some way to help her charity. Even if it meant she’d have to go door-to-door to ask for donations. She would not fail those kids. And she’d be damned if she’d give her ex-husband the satisfaction of seeing her beg.
With renewed resolve, she turned toward her computer, hit the Play button on the voice recorder, and started typing.
“You know, I’m not some crazed stalker,” Kade said, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks and trying to look as harmless as possible.
Sam, the raven-haired girl he’d given Tessa’s keys to on Friday night leaned against the doorway and arched her pierced brow. “Which is exactly what a crazed stalker would say.”
He smirked. “Good point. Can you at least tell me how I can get in touch with Tessa?”
“How did you even find me, stalker guy?” she asked, a glint in her eyes.
He could tell she was enjoying torturing him and not truly threatened by his unexpected visit. Somehow he doubted this girl was afraid of much. She was cute as a pixie but he sensed she was all scrappy badass beneath that sweet smile. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Your name and address were on the event list.”
“You stole private documents? Now you’re admitting to your criminal behavior. That is the first step to recovery.”
Damn, maybe this girl was a dominatrix on the side because she wasn’t giving him an inch. “Look, Sam, I know you’re going to be loyal and protective of your friend. I respect that. But after the fire, they took Tessa to the hospital, and I got held up by the police. By the time I got there, she was gone. I’d like to make sure that she’s okay. And when the fire broke out, we were in the middle of a conversation I’d like to finish.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I’ve got a feeling what kind of conversation you’re talking about. But listen, she’s fine. No permanent damage from the fire. And as for the other thing, she left before talking to you for a reason. She’s not looking to start up something with anyone. You were just a checkbox on her list, a one-time thing. Be glad. Isn’t that every guy’s dream? No strings or obligation to call the next day.”
He started to respond to the question but then his mind snagged on the other part. “Wait, what do you mean, I was a checkbox on her list?”
She groaned and put her hand to the door, swinging it toward him. “Good-bye, stalker guy.”
“Sam—” But the door was already clicking shut.
Fuck.
Sam wasn’t going to budge. Plan B time. He headed down the hallway of the apartment building and pulled his phone from his pocket. As usual, his assistant, Maile, answered on the first ring. “What’s up, boss?”
“Are you at your desk?”
“Chained t
o it, as always. I work for a slave driver, you know.”
He snorted. “My sympathies. Whatever you’re working on right now, put it on the side. I need you to dig up as much information as you can find on a woman named Tessa McAllen, birthdate October third, same year as me.”
How he still remembered Tessa’s birthday was a wonder, but it was there, seared on his brain like some permanent brand.
“What is this regarding? Is she a new business contact?” Maile asked, slipping into professional mode.
“No, this is a personal matter. Any information you find should remain confidential.”
There was a pause on the other line. “Wait, is this about the fire? The police were here this afternoon, looking to talk to you again. Boss, no offense, but you shouldn’t be doing your own investigating. If someone—”
“This isn’t about that.” Not directly at least. A detective had called him earlier today to inform him that they now suspected arson instead of an accidental fire. Kade knew they’d be searching for Tessa to get a statement, and he’d at least like to warn her before she got dragged into it. But, of course, if he said he was only seeking her out for that reason, he’d be a damn liar. “I need this information ASAP. I’ll be back in the office this afternoon.”
“You got it,” Maile said, hanging up without a good-bye. He loved that the woman was pure, no-frills efficiency. He had no doubt she was already on task before the phone settled in its cradle. He’d probably know when Tessa’s first baby tooth fell out by the end of the day.