The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 Read online

  She squeezed the bag to her side like a child might hug a favorite stuffed animal for comfort and turned away from the bank of mailboxes, gasping as she found herself face-to-face with a man.

  “Oh! Sorry, Mr. Sanborn. I didn’t see you there.” Tessa shrunk backward. She pulled the bag in front of her, close to her chest, as though it could somehow create more space between the two of them. Chet Sanborn was inside her bubble, and he was in the way.

  Sanborn lived directly above Tessa, on the second floor. She saw him around sometimes but did her level best to avoid him. He was an unpleasant man who always managed to make Tessa’s skin crawl with his ogling. And if his leering eyes weren’t enough, sometimes he added lewd comments to the mix.

  He waved away her apology. “Call me Chet.”

  He said that every time they had an interaction. Tessa never complied. Somehow, using his last name felt like keeping him at figurative arm’s length. If only he was at literal arm’s length right now.

  Sanborn leaned in, closer to both his mailbox and Tessa. “And being run into by you would be no hardship, ma’am.” He grinned. “I’ll tell you that.”

  Sanborn hitched up his gray polyester shorts. The waistband was being sorely tested by his ample middle section. The orange tank top was similarly strained and couldn’t quite manage its job of covering the bottom of his furry abdomen.

  Tessa tried to ease backward, but her spine hit the metal boxes. She was trapped. She forced a smile. “That’s . . . kind of you.”

  Her eyes darted around the man, searching for a way to escape without seeming rude. But if worse came to worst and their interaction lasted more than another minute—she’d have no problem resorting to rudeness.

  Sanborn rubbed a hand through the twenty or thirty strands of hair on top of his head and then scratched a patch of the salt-and-pepper ring just above his right ear.

  He got closer, his key out to open the mailbox above hers. It was now or never. Tessa ducked under his outstretched arm, shuddering. She’d definitely felt a spritz of moisture from the man’s hairy underarm. He didn’t have the type of physique to pull off a tank top.

  “See ya.” It was both a farewell and a way of life.

  She was almost out of the room and away when Sanborn spoke again. He didn’t seem to find her clumsy escape act remotely unusual or a signal that the conversation should be over.

  “Aren’t you usually at work this time o’ day?”

  Tessa spun on her heels. Sanborn’s question acted like a physical barrier that kept her from sprinting away. “I have a new job now, so my hours will be different than they were at the restaurant.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He glanced at her as he pulled open the door to his box. “What’s your new gig?”

  It took her brain a moment to remember what she was supposed to say in such a circumstance. “Uh . . . I’m at a life insurance company.”

  She took another step to the side, preparing to sprint across the lobby. She prepped her getaway to the door leading to her apartment’s hallway. But before she could move, an obstacle stepped in the way. Silas St. Onge.

  Great.

  Tessa wanted to talk to Silas less than she did Sanborn.

  Okay, that wasn’t quite true. Under normal circumstances, spending five minutes in conversation with her hot landlord wouldn’t cause her the least bit of inconvenience. It would give her a chance to watch for the adorable dimple in his right cheek and study the cute mop of sandy blond hair that loved to flop over his eye.

  She shook her head to clear those naughty thoughts. These weren’t normal circumstances. It was a horrible time to run into Silas.

  Sanborn had said something, but Tessa had totally missed it. She didn’t want him to back up and repeat it, either, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She laughed like he’d told her a joke she found hilarious.

  The confusion that raced across his face confirmed she’d chosen the wrong reaction. Oh, well. Too late to turn back now.

  Tessa kept an eye on Silas and hoped he’d continue talking to Mrs. Cross, the elderly resident of apartment 130.

  “Have a good day!” she called to Sanborn. Then Tessa power-walked across the lobby to the door leading to the back courtyard, ignoring Sanborn’s voice behind her.

  She didn’t stop moving when the fresh air hit her but hurried across the brick walk to a side door. She pushed through the heavy metal door into the hallway and chuckled with relief. That had been a close one.

  Tessa started toward her door, moving more slowly while she dug in the purse for keys. But just as her fingers grazed metal, the door at the opposite end of the hallway popped open, and Silas strode through.

  Oh, no! She increased her speed, pulling out the keys. Silas’s long strides delivered him to 114 before Tessa could get there. He blocked her way. “Tessa.” He grinned. “I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Yeah. Hi. Um, I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now.” She ignored the dimple and how it made her feel.

  “This will just take a second.”

  The amount of time it took wasn’t the problem. She knew exactly what he was going to say.

  “You’re a few days late on your rent.” Silas shook his head, looking apologetic.

  Tessa watched the hair flop over his eye. Focus! Stop being distracted by his adorableness. It was hard, though. Not only was Silas pretty much the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen, but he also seemed to have no idea. Unfortunately for her, that made him even more attractive.

  “Yeah. I know,” she said. “I’m really sorry. It’s just . . . I lost my job. But I got a new one,” she hurried to say before Silas could react. “And I’ll have the money to you by the end of the week. I swear.”

  Tessa held her breath. She hoped he went for it. It wasn’t like Silas owned the building. He was sort of a property manager extraordinaire—the guy who handled everything from maintenance to rent collection. He also happened to be kind of a pushover. Tessa had no idea how he managed to keep the place’s owners off his back because she couldn’t be the only resident who constantly needed extra time to pay. Still, she lived in fear that one day, and maybe this was that day, he’d say no when she begged for extra time.

  “Okay.” He sighed. “That’ll work. But Friday is the very last day I can stretch it for you.”

  “I’ll have it for you then for sure.”

  Silas moved away from the door a few steps but then stopped and turned back toward her. Though he’d sounded like a softy before, his tone suddenly turned authoritative. “By the way. That cat you don’t own was peering out your window today when I went past. You know the pet fee is another hundred per month.”

  Maybe Silas wasn’t as much of a pushover as she’d thought.

  Ugh. Pepper knew better than to hang out in the window during the day. Tessa was going to have to have a firm discussion with the black cat. Maybe if she withheld those soft salmon-flavored treats for a few days, the naughty kitty would learn Tessa meant business.

  Lie. Lie. Lie. Tessa’s brain caught up to the conversation. “She’s actually Frank’s cat. I’m just watching her for a few days.”

  Silas’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you and Frank broke up.”

  Tessa winced. How did he know that?

  Oh, right. Mist River was the world’s smallest town—with the biggest grapevine made up of a network of elderly folk who treated gossiping like a job. In fact, Tessa would bet money that Mrs. Cross had been telling Silas about the breakup in the lobby just a few minutes earlier.

  “Um.” Brilliant, Tessa.

  Silas waved a hand. “Whatever. Just get me the check by Friday. And do something about the cat.”

  As she let herself into the apartment at last, Tessa’s chest felt heavy. She dropped her purse on the ratty blue couch that was a hand-me-down from her mother.

  “Pepper.” She made high-pitched kitty calls. “We need to have a talk, missy! Get your furry behind out here.”

  But the place was silen
t. The cat had probably heard the discussion in the hallway and knew making herself scarce was the best idea. Cats are smart that way.

  The apartment was tiny but clean. And thanks to Silas, everything was in good working order. The kitchen had cream-colored linoleum flooring and a matching counter, barely enough to hold a cutting board at only two-feet long. There was no dishwasher, but Tessa mainly used paper plates anyway. When she cooked.

  She opened the refrigerator, surveyed the contents, and sighed. There were three half-used cans of cat food with plastic lids, half a jar of mayonnaise, and some sliced cheese. She pulled out the cheese and opened a cupboard, fist-pumping when she found a sleeve of crackers. It was her lucky night.

  Ten minutes later, she settled onto the couch with her favorite purple crocheted blanket, a plate of cheese and crackers, and a glass of wine. Thank goodness for Two Buck Chuck.

  She used the remote to turn on the TV and navigated to the streaming service, holding her breath like she always did, waiting to see if the WiFi would work. She shared it with her friend, Abigail, who lived in the apartment next door, and sometimes, it couldn’t keep up with both of them needing to watch rom-coms at the same time.

  The service fired right up. Abi must be sleeping already. Or maybe she had a date. Unlike Tessa. Who was single, broke, and not at all in control of her life.

  Loud footfalls overhead made Tessa glare at the ceiling. How could someone as icky as Sanborn have guests as often as he did?

  Tessa kicked out a leg toward the coffee table when Pepper’s head popped up beside it. The cat balanced on her hind legs, looking wary, as though expecting her owner to shoo her away. But Tessa shook her head and patted the cushion next to her. “Come on up, you little brat.”

  Pepper accepted the invitation, curling into a tight ball next to Tessa’s hip. She smiled for probably the first time that day.

  “You’re going to have to get a job, you know,” she told Pepper as she stroked her soft fur. “You can’t expect my new gig to cover an extra hundred bucks a month for you to look out a window. What is there to look at anyway? An empty pool?”

  Pepper seemed unconcerned, tiny snuffles emitting from her nose as she snore-purred.

  Tessa chuckled. If only her life was as easy as the cat’s. She snuggled down into the comfortable couch. As the movie’s opening credits popped up on the screen, she thought about her first assignment and hoped Dale was settling into his afterlife. And she hoped she could settle into the routine of sending people there.

  Chapter 3

  THE NEXT DAY, WITH the sunshine pouring through the windows, Tessa got ready a lot faster than usual. She was almost looking forward to the grim tasks of the day. She realized that it was all a matter of perspective. Everyone and everything had an expiration date, and that was something out of her control.

  As she crossed the courtyard, she glanced at the complex’s swimming pool. It glittered in the sun’s rays. An optical illusion. If only it was warm enough to consider a dip after work. She knew Silas worked hard to remove the leaves every afternoon, keeping the pool in tip-top shape for its eventual opening later in the spring.

  Tessa wore a thick sweater against the chill. She was happy to be able to wear her cute purple sunglasses against the glare.

  Linda’s engine turned over immediately and purred all the way to the Last Journey office. Tessa glanced at the clock in the dash. Ha! She was a full five minutes early.

  She strode carefully over the dilapidated sidewalk, allowing herself to feel a moment of smugness. Her mother had clearly thought Tessa couldn’t handle the job—especially the being on time part. It felt good to prove Cheryl wrong.

  The lot was missing Cheryl’s fancy silver Audi. For once, Tessa had managed to arrive before her mom.

  The lobby was deserted. Tessa made her way to the closet-sized office her mother had said was hers and booted up the laptop. It took her a couple minutes to remember how to get into the system to check her assignments.

  Tessa remembered something as she watched the rolling ball on the screen do its thing while the computer slowly came to life. It was something Cheryl had said about forwarding messages to her email because the assignments went out at midnight each night. In fact, her mother had insisted she do it right then and there. But Tessa had convinced her not to worry, insisting she was competent and would do it before she left work.

  Of course, she’d forgotten.

  A whisper of worry slithered into her mind. “Come on,” she muttered, tapping her fingernails on the tarnished metal desk.

  The ball stopped rolling and an assignment popped up. Tessa gasped. Her stomach twisted into a knot.

  There on the screen, seeming to ogle at her as usual, was Chet Sanborn. She scanned the short paragraph under his picture, but it wasn’t right. It had the time of death, but where it was supposed to give the cause, it said unforeseen.

  Tessa noted the time. Nine-thirty in the morning. Well, at least she wouldn’t be late. Then she glanced at the computer’s clock and sputtered. It was already nine-fifteen.

  “What?”

  The truth slammed into her. Linda’s clock must be off. And every time Tessa tried to change it, she couldn’t figure out how. Ancient cars with their archaic problems, including non-self-changing clocks.

  Tessa jumped from the chair and immediately doubled over as a stab of pain shot through her knee. She’d banged her leg on the desk in her haste. She fought the urge to let out a few curses.

  Hopping toward the doorway, Tessa lost her balance and crashed into the doorframe. Another jolt of pain—this one went through her shoulder.

  “Argh,” she cried as tears sprang to her eyes. She had to take a few seconds to breathe, waiting for the worst of the pain to subside before she could continue.

  She made for Linda as fast as her bruised body would allow, making quick calculations in her head. She should have just enough time. Her apartment complex wasn’t that far away.

  If she didn’t, the “company” probably wouldn’t pay her for the assignment. And that meant she may not have enough money to cover the rent she’d promised Silas by Friday.

  When she got to the car, Tessa grabbed the handle and yanked. It didn’t budge. Her fingers skidded along the metal. She yelped as two of her nails bent backward. That was more than she could take. She let a swear word fly. Then she fumbled for the car’s key.

  Behind her, a car door slammed. Tessa hoped it wasn’t Cheryl, there to see her quick fall from grace. She would for sure remind her errant kid she should’ve forwarded those emails. If she had, she wouldn’t have had to go into the office at all. She could’ve waited at her apartment complex for Sanborn to pass.

  Tessa spun on her heels, ready for the worst. But it wasn’t Cheryl. Instead, a lovely woman, about Tessa’s age, with dark skin and almond-shaped eyes gave her a bemused look.

  Tessa ducked her head in silent apology, gave a little wave, and turned back toward Linda. She finally managed to get the door open and slink into the car. Through the window, she watched the woman glide, straight-backed, into the building.

  Tessa turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. Linda did not make a single sound.

  “Oh, come on,” Tessa breathed out. “Don’t you do this to me. Not now, baby.” She rubbed the dashboard like it was a sick puppy. Speaking in a tone one may use on an infant, Tessa begged, “Just take Mama home and I’ll let you sleep for the rest of the day, okay? Deal?”

  Nothing.

  Losing patience, Tessa slammed a palm into the steering wheel and glared at it. It was edging closer to nine-thirty.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me right now,” Tessa grumbled. “Do you want me to lose this job? You won’t be getting any oil changes if I do, I can tell you that.”

  In fact, the first thing she was going to do with her paycheck—if she got one at all, was pay a half-dozen bills and the rent and buy some real food. Then, if there was any money left, she was going to look for a n
ew car. But there was no way she was going to let Linda know about that future betrayal.

  She pulled out her cell phone and stared at it for a minute, wondering if Mist River had Uber. She had no idea. Tessa didn’t have a data plan on her phone—she couldn’t afford it. So, she’d have to do the old-fashioned thing. Call information. She dialed 411, asked for Uber, and then listened to the woman chuckle. “Don’t you have the app?”

  Tessa answered through gritted teeth. “No. I don’t. Is there a number?”

  “I can find you a cab company. We still have a few of those.” The clicking of laptop buttons came over the line and then the woman announced she found a number. “Shall I connect you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  After a quick talk with a woman with a thick southern accent, it was clear that the soonest a cab could arrive would be twenty minutes. Tessa didn’t have that kind of time. She tried the car one more time, but it still ignored her polite request to start. With a groan, she jumped out of the car and started jogging. Ten steps later, she slowed to a walk, wheezing and holding her side. Admonishing herself for being so out of shape and never getting around to doing that thing where people went from completely inactive to running marathons in six months, she decided the best she’d be able to do was power-walk.

  She pushed onward. She’d wasted so much time already. The next half a mile, with her paycheck on the line, felt like an insurmountable distance.

  As the building came into sight, she started feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t really want to be there for Chet Sanborn’s last moments. It wasn’t like the guy was a friend—she’d always tried to avoid him as much as possible. But still, she knew him personally. The thought of watching him die gave her the heebie-jeebies. And, she had to admit, it gave her a stab of sadness. Just because she didn’t like talking to the man didn’t mean she wanted him to die.

  Tessa glanced at her phone to check the time as she arrived in front of the apartment building. Nine forty-five. She was super late. The only thing she could hope for now was that Mr. Sanborn’s soul was still hanging around his body. The poor guy had been there alone for fifteen minutes.