The House on Main Street Page 13

  “Let’s go, then. Make sure there’s room for the Rileys and McKenzies around the angel,” Ida said as she stepped off the platform and led Alex through the room.

  As was the Apple Valley way, people followed in an orderly and quiet fashion, walking through the foyer and into the banquet room.

  Gertrude was already standing near the display case, a piece of paper in her hand, a look of horror on her face. Every bit of color was gone from her cheeks, and Tess rushed forward, terrified that her aunt was having a heart attack.

  “Gertrude! What’s wrong?”

  “She’s gone,” Gertrude responded, her lips colorless.

  “Who’s go—” Tessa’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of the display case. The glass door hung open, and the shelf was empty.

  “What’s going on?” Ida asked, her wrinkled hand still wrapped around Alex’s smooth one.

  “My angel is gone,” Alex said, and the entire crowd gasped.

  It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so awful.

  Tess reached for Alex as Cade shoved his way through the throng of people, still looking sexy as sin and gorgeous. But tears were streaming down Alex’s face, and all Tess cared about was getting her nephew to a private place where he could cry.

  She lifted him, not caring that he was ten and probably way too old to want to be carried, and shoved her way through the crowd.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex cried himself to sleep.

  Tess wanted to.

  She also wanted to murder whatever bastard had taken the angel.

  No. Not the angel. Alex’s angel.

  She paced the hallway outside Alex’s room, peeking in every few minutes to make sure he was still sleeping. She had this fear that he’d wake up and go searching, even though she, Gertrude, and Ida had spent an hour assuring him that the police would do everything they could to find the angel.

  They’d better find it quick, too. Tess didn’t think she could spend another night listening to her nephew cry.

  Gertrude’s bedroom door opened, and she peeked into the hall. Not a bit of makeup on her face, her hair scraped back, she looked older and frailer than she had that afternoon. “You can’t stand guard all night, Tess,” she said quietly.

  “Sure I can.” She settled on the floor next to Alex’s door and leaned back against the wall.

  “He won’t go anywhere.”

  “He has before.”

  “It’s been years since he wandered away from home.”

  “He wandered away from school last week, Gertie. We can’t pretend that didn’t happen.”

  “I’m not pretending. I know there’s a possibility he’ll go looking for the angel. I dead-bolted the door to make sure he doesn’t.”

  “He composes music, Gertrude, and he plays complicated pieces by ear. Do you really think he won’t figure out how to open a dead bolt?”

  “It’s not that he can’t figure it out. It’s that it’s too high. Way up at the top of the door. Dave put it there when Alex was four. He was fascinated with the stars then. Used to play little songs about the sky.” Her voice broke, and she sank to the floor beside Tessa in a heap of faded cotton fabric. “I had no idea he even knew that angel existed, Tess. If I had . . .”

  “It’s okay, Gertie.” Tess patted her aunt’s hand. For once they were on the same page, worried about the same thing, determined to accomplish a common goal.

  “It is not okay, damn it!” Gertrude pulled a cigarette from somewhere within the folds of her nightgown and stuck it between her lips. “The boy cried himself to sleep, and it’s all my fault.”

  “You said yourself that you didn’t know.”

  “I should have.”

  “And I should have known I had limited time with Emily, but I didn’t. Now it’s too late to spend the time with her that I wish I had,” Tess responded tiredly. “Sometimes, all we can do is keep moving forward.”

  “You’ve got a point there, kid, but I still feel bad. I let my emotions rule my head, and it got me into trouble.”

  “Has there ever been a time when it hasn’t?”

  “Nah.” Gertrude smiled. “You’d think I would have learned something from that by this point in my life.”

  “You’d think I would have learned something, period,” Tess said with a sigh.

  Gertrude touched her hand. “You’ve done good, kid.” She took the cigarette from her mouth and frowned at it. “I know I haven’t told you that much. Fact is, you always had your head screwed on straighter than your sister.”

  “You’d better stop, Gertrude. Or I’ll start thinking you’re sick or dying or something.”

  “I’m too old and ornery for that.” Gertrude got back on her feet with a couple of loud grunts and a groan or two. “There’s nothing we can do about any of this tonight. It’s best if we both go to bed.”

  “I’d rather call Cade and find out what he’s doing to get the angel back,” Tess grumbled.

  “At midnight? I don’t think he’d appreciate it, but his home number is in the phone book down in the kitchen if you’re hell-bent on giving him a call. Me? I’m going to get these old bones in bed. I need my beauty sleep. It’s date night tomorrow at the seniors’ center. Bowling first. Then a movie. Then, if my man is good, a little trip to Pike’s Hill.”

  “Pike’s Hill?” The Lover’s Lane of Apple Valley. Tess didn’t want to even imagine Gertrude and her “man” there.

  “Don’t act like you haven’t heard of it, Tess. I know you and that scuzz-bucket Orlando used to park there every Friday night after work.”

  True. They had.

  Also true that Orlando had been scum, but he’d been cute, and Tess had been trying to pretend she didn’t have a crush on Cade.

  Crush?

  It had been more than that.

  She’d been planning their wedding, for crying out loud! Thank God, she’d never told anyone but Emily that.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t know what it was. I’m just surprised that you might be going there.”

  “Why?” Gertrude scowled.

  “Because I didn’t even know you were dating.” Tessa scrambled to her feet.

  “Just because you didn’t know, doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening.” Gertrude patted her hair and smoothed the bodice of her old-fashioned nightgown. “Some of us just have it, Tess. It’s a sad fact of life and a hard reality for those who don’t, but it is what it is, and I’m not one to complain.”

  Tess snorted, and Gertrude lifted her sagging chin several notches. “I’m not. Now, I really do have to get some sleep. You’d be smart to do the same. Knowing the way things are in this town, everyone and her uncle will be on the doorstep when the shop opens in the morning.” She retreated into her room and closed the door, leaving Tess to stare at the painted wood.

  Gertrude dating? Tess hadn’t been on a date since she’d kicked Kent to the curb. Was it pitiful that her aunt had a better love-life than she did? Probably, but she didn’t plan to waste time worrying about it.

  Tess got to her feet, her body aching to the bone. She felt ancient and defeated. She hated that feeling.

  There was a phone book downstairs near the phone. Sure it was midnight, but Cade was a sheriff. He had to be used to being woken at odd hours. Besides, the last thing he’d said to Alex was that he could call anytime to find out how the search for the angel was going.

  Alex was asleep. He couldn’t call, but Tess could.

  She eased down the stairs, careful to avoid the creakiest ones. It was colder on the lower level of the house, the shop somehow hollow and empty feeling despite how full it was. Even after all the work that had been done, there was too much stuff. Tess had put Gertrude to work weeding out the junk, and she had to admit, her aunt had a good eye. She’d managed to pull out items that would fit well into a fine antique store. They were lined up against the walls and set on shelves, still unorganized, but not nearly as cluttered as they’d been when Tess had arrived.

 
; Tess walked down the hall and into the kitchen. The difference in there was almost miraculous, all the clutter gone, the deep porcelain sink scrubbed out, the cupboards dusted. She needed to pull up the old linoleum to check the tile floor beneath to see if it was salvageable. She thought it would be.

  A few small tables, and the room would be perfect for small social gatherings. Maybe book clubs or quilting meetings. She was sure she could get people in with the right motivation, and after attending the tea, she knew just what that motivation needed to be.

  Charlotte.

  That woman could bake like nobody’s business. If she was providing refreshments, people would come to the shop. One thing at a time, though. There were hundreds of little projects and dozens of big ones that needed to be done before then.

  An old-fashioned phone hung on the wall near the mudroom door. The phone book was on the counter nearby. Tess thumbed through it, reading through the Cs until she found Cade’s home number. His address was listed, too. Tenth Street. That wasn’t far. A hop, skip, and a jump away. As a matter of fact, Tess could jog there easily if she ever had the desire.

  Fortunately, her days of running past a boy’s house in the hope of getting his attention were long past. She’d grown up and matured. And yet, there she stood with her finger on Cade’s number and her hand on the phone.

  Was she really going to wake the man in the middle of the night to ask questions that could wait? It wasn’t like she had anything new to say. She’d said everything at the town hall, and she’d said it loudly enough to shock several of the blue-haired ladies.

  She wasn’t proud of it. As a matter of fact, if any of them visited the shop, she was going to apologize.

  What she was not going to do was call Cade.

  She stepped away from the book and the phone and walked back through the dark hall. The front room was nearly cleared of clutter, an old couch that Tessa planned to restore and recover sitting in front of the windows. She knelt on the saggy cushions and pulled back the curtains. Snow had begun to fall. The first snow of the season, each flake fat and fluffy.

  She felt a moment of deep yearning so intense that she wanted to walk outside and look up at the swirling snow, let the flakes melt on her face the way she and Emily had when they were kids. They’d been best friends before they’d moved to Apple Valley, because they were all each other had. Home-schooled because that had been easier for Gretchen than getting them up and ready in the morning. Not much schooling had ever gotten done, but Tess and Emily had spent lots of time telling each other stories and playing make-believe. Usually Emily was the princess, Tessa the maid, but she hadn’t minded.

  That had probably been the beginning of the pattern that had shaped their relationship. They’d been too young to realize it, of course. All they’d cared about was being best friends ever.

  How many times had Emily said that?

  She’d stopped after they’d moved in with Gertrude. Not right away, but slowly as they’d entered school and she’d made new friends.

  Tess would give a lot to hear her say it now.

  She sighed, dropping down onto the couch. It was cold, but she was too tired and lazy to look for a blanket, so she tugged her flannel pajama top down over her knees and curled up on the old cushions.

  She closed her eyes, listening for the floor to creak or a door to open, waiting for Alex to try to make another pilgrimage to find his angel.

  She fell asleep waiting.

  Emily came to her in her dreams, but not the grown-up Emily of recent years. Young Emily, with her white-blond hair in pigtails, standing in the yard they’d grown up playing in. She walked toward Tessa, not smiling like she always was. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open. She looked up at the sky and then at Tess, her skin as white as the falling snow, her mouth blood red.

  She needed something.

  She didn’t speak it, but Tess felt that need the same way she’d felt the yearning to walk outside and catch snowflakes on her face.

  What do you need? She tried to say it, but no sound escaped.

  Tears streamed down Emily’s face, and she turned her back to Tessa, walking across the yard and disappearing into falling snow.

  “Emily!” Tess woke yelling her sister’s name, sweat beading her brow and her heart pounding so fast she thought it would burst from her chest.

  She sat up, shaking with the remnant of the dream.

  Wind howled, rattling the windows behind her, and icy air swept across her hot cheeks. She could swear a snowflake landed on her forehead. She turned, her gaze jumping to the foyer and the door.

  It was closed.

  Thank God.

  She had a crick in her neck from sleeping on the couch, and a pain in her stomach that was probably from hunger, but at least the house was still locked up tight.

  She glanced at an old grandfather clock as she walked into the hall. Just past two. She could get in bed, sleep until dawn, and then begin the interior work that needed to be done. The entire lower level was due for an overhaul. It wouldn’t cost much for a few gallons of paint, but what she really wanted to do was buy vintage wallpaper prints for the parlor, wainscoting for the dining room, and paint for the spacious living room. She’d have to calculate the cost, see if it would make sense to do it.

  Her foot landed in cold water, and she froze, her heart thumping frantically again. There shouldn’t be any water on the floor. Not unless there was a leak in the ceiling. She turned the foyer light on and looked up, praying that she’d see a big wet blotch on the paint. Nothing. Not even a drop of moisture.

  A small chair sat near the door. It hadn’t been there earlier.

  No!

  She checked the dead bolt, fear crawling up her throat. Open.

  “Gertrude!” she screamed, loud enough to wake the dead. “Gertrude!”

  She dragged the door open, heavy snow flying into the house as the wind gusted again.

  “What is it? What’s going on?” Gertrude stumbled into view, her nightgown twisted around her legs, her hair standing straight up.

  “Alex is gone.” She felt sick saying the words. Like she was going to spew what little she had in her stomach, her heart so heavy it felt like lead. “Call the police and get them out here.”

  “Are you sure?” Gertrude nearly fell in her haste to get down the stairs.

  “The bolt was open. There was water on the floor.”

  “Did you check his bed?”

  “I don’t want to waste time.” She dragged an old brown coat from the closet near the door. There were old galoshes on the floor, and she shoved her feet into them. They were three sizes too big, but she didn’t care. “You check the bedroom, but call the police first.”

  She ran onto the porch, her feet slipping in wet snow.

  She could see a trail of footprints leading across the yard. They looked fresh, barely covered by new snow. He must be close. Had he put on a coat? Gloves? Boots? Or was he wandering around in his pajamas?

  Dear God, she hoped not.

  She followed the trail across the yard. Alex was heading toward the town center. It was a mile to the heart of town, but everything there was closed. With the temperature hovering just above freezing and the ground wet with snow, he’d be hypothermic in no time if he didn’t find shelter.

  She jogged along the sidewalk, the snow falling faster and heavier.

  “Alex!” she called.

  The wind howled, and she thought she heard him crying for help beneath its blustering roar. Maybe, though, it was just the leaves rustling.

  Oh God! She had to find him, and she had to do it quickly. The stupid boots flopped as she tried to sprint forward, and she fell, her knees skidding through snow and ice, her flannel pajama pants soaked.

  She jumped back up, peering into the distance. Was that a little shadow moving along the sidewalk?

  “Alex!” Headlights splashed behind her, an engine purring quietly as a car approached.

  She just kept running, sure that if she s
topped the footprints would disappear, and Alex would be lost for good.

  The car pulled up beside her.

  No, not a car. An old truck.

  The window rolled down, and Cade looked out at her. “Get in the truck.”

  “We won’t be able to see the footprints from there,” she said, her teeth chattering, her body shaking from cold and fear.

  “You won’t be able to follow at all if you’re frozen to death.” He got out of the truck and dragged her from the sidewalk. “You drive. I’ll follow the prints and you follow me.”

  “I—”

  “Only one of us thought to put on cold-weather gear, Tess. Let’s not waste time arguing about who should be the one to track Alex.”

  She nodded and climbed into the truck, her hands almost too cold and numb to grasp the steering wheel.

  “Hold on. Let me just grab my flashlight.” Cade reached across her and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a large flashlight before running down the sidewalk, the light jumping in front of him.

  She put the truck into gear and followed, easing along behind him, her eyes scanning the darkness.

  They’d covered nearly the full mile to the town center when Cade sprinted forward. Tess’s heart jumped, and she peered through the swirling snow and darkness. She saw a small figure trudging toward them.

  She parked the truck and ran, catching up to Cade as he scooped Alex into his arms.

  “You okay, sport?” he said, and Alex nodded, his eyes filled with confusion. “Where were you headed?”

  “Home,” Alex responded simply.

  “But what were you doing out in the snow?” Tessa took him from Cade’s arms, and Alex wiggled down to stand beside her. He wore a heavy parka, thick gloves, ski pants, snow boots, and a hat. Obviously, he’d prepared for the cold.

  “I was looking for my angel, but my legs were getting tired.”

  “You know someone stole the angel, Alex,” Tessa said, her voice sharp with relief and concern. “What in the world were you thinking, coming out on a night like tonight?”

  “I was thinking that maybe I could find her.”

  “But—” she started, but Cade put a hand on her arm and shook his head.