Page 68 of Concrete Evidence
“Does your head hurt?” Mom entered the room as though she wore moccasins.
“A little.” He relayed Mrs. Litton’s agreement for Tessa to visit the ranch.
“I’ve finished packing.” She glanced around her. “My indoor plants will die without water.” She stiffened. “My neighbor next door has a key. I’ll ask her to check on them. I’m sorry. You’re doing your best.”
He wished he could believe her. “Mom, you can’t tell your neighbor why you’re leaving.”
“I understand. The problem is, how long will we be away?”
“I suggest taking enough for a week and remember you can always wash clothes there.”
“True. At least you have a few things already here,” Mom said.
What to wear hadn’t hit the radar of importance. “I’d like to leave before lunch. We have miles to go today.”
“How can you drive with your head stitched and hurting? The doctor told you not to get behind the wheel.”
“And you’re in better shape than I am?”
“I think Avery should pick us up.”
He shook his head. The next few days with the women in his life called for all the patience he could muster. “I’ve got this. You’re about to see an agent in action. It’s called autopilot.”
Mom failed to find humor in his response.
Tessa had the fifteen-year-old attitude going. No hugs when Marc picked her up and plenty of tears when she told her grandmother goodbye. Yet compassion spilled over him when he viewed Tessa’s reluctance to release her grandmother’s paper-thin, heavily veined hand.
Outside the front door, he took her suitcase and set it on the sidewalk.
“What happened to your head?” she said.
“Stitches. I got too close to an explosion. Look, Tessa, I’m not the enemy.”
Her lips quivered. “I’m afraid something will happen to her while I’m gone.”
“She’s stronger than you give her credit for.” Marc hoped he wasn’t filling her with unreasonable explanations.
“Was the trip to the senator’s ranch her idea?”
He refused to lie, although the idea tempted him. “No. It originated with the senator’s granddaughter, Avery. And Mrs. Litton agreed.”
She slipped her hair behind one ear. No ponytail today. “She doesn’t want me with her when she dies.”
Again he wanted to spare her the truth. “My mother will be with you too, and I’ll be at the ranch a good bit of the time. When I’m gone, an off-duty deputy will take my place.”
Tessa’s gaze flew to the truck. With the tinted windows, Mom wasn’t visible. “Is she with you now?”
“Yes.”
She bit hard into her lower lip. “Dad said she’s a saint.”
“She is an amazing woman.”
Tessa turned back to him. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The truth.“A shooter tried to hurt my mother. She moved and the bullet hit my partner. He’ll be okay. Obviously a bad guy believes my mother is aware of privileged information from our father. That potentially puts you directly into the line of fire.”
“Marc, it sounds like a bad movie.”
