like a word alone with her. You know, woman to woman.”
“Ah.” Dale nodded. “Tessa, you’re probably thirsty. Would you like some water, or a soda? Do you feel up to eating anything?”
She ran a dry tongue across her teeth. Her mouth was as nasty tasting as if the French Foreign Legion had marched through and left their boots behind. “Nothing to eat, but a Sprite sounds great, thanks.”
“Okay, let me know when you’re done with your girl talk.” Dale departed.
While Tessa appreciated her fiancé’s considerate offer, her skin prickled with annoyance at his easy capitulation. She’d always thought a man who treated his mother with such respect was charming. Girl talk or no, Gabe wouldn’t stand for being ordered out. She frowned. Now why had she thought of him at a time like this?
Lucille’s ice-blue eyes narrowed to slits and she dropped her voice to a murmur. “Did that criminal attack you?”
“Why does everybody ask me that? He behaved like a perfect gentleman.” Tessa’s frown deepened. “And frankly, I don’t appreciate your intrusion into my privacy.”
“Tessa! You’ve never spoken to me with disrespect.” Lucille patted her hand. “It must be the head injury.”
Tessa snatched her hand away. First the cop, then the doctor and now Lucille. If one more person patted her, she’d scream.
Lucille sighed. “I was so excited about having grandchildren immediately, but now I suppose a baby will have to wait until there’s no doubt about diseases.”
Though she’d never hit anyone in her life, the desire to slap Lucille’s elegant face burned through Tessa and she clenched her fists. She’d always thought of marrying Dale as gaining both a husband and a mother. Her own mother had been obsessed by her lovers, the New York soap opera scene and Tessa’s brother Jules’s tennis career. Vivienne had hidden her awkward, over-weight daughter at a boarding school on the opposite coast and never discussed her. Tessa had believed Lucille’s involvement in Dale’s life was motherly love, but now it seemed motherly love had become blatant interference. No way would she let Lucille control her marriage, including when to have children.
She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths and relax her hands. Now was a fine time to have second thoughts—the wedding was less than two weeks away.
I can’t imagine anything worse. Except prison. Gabe’s heart-felt anti-marriage sentiment echoed through her throbbing temples. Did a green-eyed bandit have anything to do with her sudden enlightenment?
The door opened, and Mel strode in carrying a paper bag. “I’m back, with a change of clothes. Hey, Lucille. How come you’re in here and Dale is out in the hall?”
“Hello, Miss Parrish.” Lucille’s voice dripped icicles. “That’s really none of your business.” She inclined her head at Tessa. “I’ll give you privacy to dress.”
Mel giggled as Lucille swept out. “What did the queen vulture want?”
Her daughter-in-law dancing on a string? Tessa struggled to corral her anger and confusion long enough to spout a coherent answer.
Mel’s gaze locked on hers. “Hoo boy, what did she say that upset you so much?” Her blue eyes shot sparks. “Should I punch her in the snooty nose?”
Tessa straightened. “We’re not six, and you don’t have to fight my battles anymore. I’ll set Lucille straight. And if any punching goes on, I’ll wear the boxing gloves.”
Mel’s brows shot into her hairline. “Wow, I’ve never seen you talk back to the Dragon Lady. I’ve never seen you threaten to get physical, either. It’s about time. I don’t know what the ‘sweet’ bank robber did that pumped up your attitude, but I like it.” Giggling, she fished a bright orange garment out of the bag. “Better get dressed first, though. Courtesy of Al’s Truck Stop, the only place open. I caught a waitress going off duty and she happily sold me this.”
Tessa stared at the stained dress with Al’s stamped in neon green on the pocket. “I can see why.” She chuckled. The sound gonged through her skull and she winced. “However, it’s better than baring my assets to the world. Thank goodness the nurse at least found my shoes.”
Balanced on wobbly legs, Tessa put on the ugly uniform, wrinkling her nose at the lingering odors of cigarette smoke and stale French fries.
The instant they stepped into the hall, Lucille swooped down on them. “The BMW is out front. During the drive home, we can plan the postponement.” Her meticulously groomed brows rose a fraction. “What are you wearing?”
Dale offered a sweet, encouraging smile. “She looks good. I’m glad to see her on her feet.” He glanced at his mother and his smile slipped. “What postponement?”
Tessa squared her shoulders. “I’m riding home with Mel.” She kissed Dale on the cheek. “Don’t worry, the wedding’s on schedule. No delay.”
“I think it would be better for everyone if—” Lucille huffed.
Tessa cut her off. “I’ll get in touch tomorrow.”
Dale enfolded her in a gentle bear hug. “I’m glad to hear that. But we’ll do whatever is best for you. Call me later if you need anything, Tessa.”
Tessa and Melody ambled to Mel’s ancient red Volkswagen bug, leaving Lucille in the lobby sputtering like a defective tea-kettle. Mel jiggled the key into the rusty lock. “About this ‘sweet’ bank robber.” She shot Tessa a sparkling glance. “What’s his name?”
Tessa wrenched open the squeaky door and swept a crumpled Taco Man bag off the duct-taped seat before she settled in. “I have no idea, and could care less.”
After all, sometimes a little white lie for the benefit of everyone wasn’t that terrible. Was it?
The next morning, Tessa sat in a bleak room at the Riverside police station scrutinizing mug shots. She closed the third book and pushed the heavy volume across the table to the redheaded police officer who had popped in to check on her progress. “Still no luck.”
“Okay. I’ll get more books and bring you some coffee.”
As the officer left, she rested her tender head in her hand. She doubted Gabe’s picture would show up in any mug books. In spite of the robbery and kidnapping, his protective, considerate behavior wasn’t consistent with a criminal’s. Who knew? In any case, she wasn’t about to let him hold her against her will, especially without an explanation.
The door opened and a huge, dark-suited man the size of a soda machine slipped inside. He flashed a gold badge. “Gregson, FBI.” He slid his hulking form into the seat across from her and bobbed his head in a curt nod. “We’re taking over this case.”
The man’s flat, hooded gaze locked on hers. A chill crawled over her and instant dislike prickled across her scalp.
Gregson pulled a pen and small black notebook from inside his jacket pocket. “Have you given your statement?”
She shook her head. “They’re short handed. The flu epidemic that’s going around. They asked me to look at mug shots first.”
His nearly black eyes narrowed into slits, the reptilian gaze of a snake hypnotizing its prey. “So, you can identify him?”
Her instincts screamed mistrust. An intense desire to protect Gabe from this predator rose within her and she straightened in her chair. “No. He had on a ski mask.”
His bushy black brows furrowed. “The entire six hours?”
She stared into those malignant eyes and lied. “Yes.”
“Then why are you looking at mug shots?”
“I tried to tell them.” She shrugged. “They’re keeping me busy until they can get to me,