Cold Hearts. Sharon SalaЧитать онлайн книгу.
shaking to the point that she couldn’t maintain her grip. She glanced around to make sure no one noticed and began using both hands to do her job.
But she’d been mistaken. All her coworkers knew what had happened. They knew why she’d been late getting to school and were sympathetic. When someone said her name and then tapped her on the shoulder, she found herself face-to-face with her principal.
“Mr. Wilson! Would you like a carton of milk?”
Wilson calmly took the milk out of her hand and put it on the tray of the waiting student, then cupped her elbow.
“No. I came to tell you we have a substitute for your class for the rest of the day. You need some time at home.”
Lissa’s eyes welled. “I’m fine, really.”
“No, you’re not, and I wouldn’t be, either. Go get your things and meet Louis at the office. He volunteered to take you home.”
One of the aides took over milk duty as she and the principal walked out of the cafeteria. Now that the decision had been taken out of her hands, she felt the walls she’d put up beginning to crumble. She hurried to gather up her things, left her lesson plans out on the desk for the substitute teacher and headed for the office.
Louis Parsons, the school custodian, was already there with keys in hand. He was a stocky thirtysomething man who wore his hair in a ponytail and was so shy around women that he looked down at their feet instead of their faces when he spoke.
“I can carry that bag for you,” he said. He slipped the big tote from her shoulder as he escorted her to the parking lot.
The drive home was completely silent.
Lissa was teary eyed and still trembling when Louis pulled up to her house. When he started to get out, she stopped him.
“You don’t need to get out, and thank you the ride.”
He kept his gaze fixed on the hood of his car. “I’m sure sorry about what happened to Mr. Jackson.”
“So am I, Louis. Thank you again for the ride.”
He ducked his head as she gathered up her things and got out, the house key in her hand. Her steps were dragging as she heard Louis drive away. She made it up the steps and was fumbling with the key, trying to get it in the lock, when she heard a car pull up behind her.
She wouldn’t turn around. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, but she couldn’t get the key in the lock fast enough to make an escape. All of a sudden there were footsteps coming up the walk, and then someone was calling out her name.
“Lissa! Lissa! Wait up!”
Her shoulders slumped.
Oh, perfect. It’s T.J.
She wasn’t in the mood to talk. They’d said all they needed to say to each other a couple of months earlier, when she’d quit accepting his invitations to dinner, but before she could think of a way to head him off he had bounded up the steps and slipped a hand beneath her elbow.
“Let me help you inside,” he said, as he took the keys from her hand and quickly opened the door.
Lissa entered reluctantly. Once he was inside, he was difficult to get out.
“I’m not up to visitors today, T.J.”
He ran a finger down the side of her cheek as his voice softened.
“I know, Liss. I heard what happened. I’m so sorry you were the one who found the body. It must have been awful for you.”
Lissa pushed his hand aside. She hated the nickname he persisted in using and didn’t intend to talk about what had happened with anyone, especially him.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Please go, T.J. I just need to be alone.”
T. J. Silver wasn’t used to women refusing his attentions, and this only reminded him how pissed he was that she had ended their very new, very tenuous relationship after just a handful of dinner dates.
“I understand how you feel, but I just want to help. I assume your car is going to be unavailable for a while. Could I give you a ride to school tomorrow?”
The last thing she wanted was to owe him any favors.
“No, I have that covered,” she said. She then went to the door and stepped aside, waiting for him to leave. “Thank you for checking on me. It was very kind.”
T.J.’s eyes narrowed angrily, but he managed a smile as he slid a hand beneath her hair and cupped the back of her neck.
“I didn’t do it to be kind, Liss. I did it because I care about you.”
She stiffened beneath the familiarity, and she knew he felt it.
“So you have my number,” he said. “Call if you need anything, okay?”
“Thank you again,” she said.
He gave in and walked out, and the moment he crossed the threshold she shut the door and turned the lock.
His fingers curled into fists when he heard that click, but he kept on walking.
Lissa leaned against the door until she heard him drive away. Only then did she abandon her post and go to her room to change.
* * *
Being around women made Louis Parsons nervous. He would never have volunteered to take Melissa Sherman home on his own, but the principal was his boss, and he’d asked if Louis would take her home, so he had.
He kept glancing at the floorboard and the seat of his truck as he drove away, making sure she hadn’t left anything behind. His identical twin brother, Reece, used the truck at night, and he made a big deal of keeping it clean, which Louis thought was stupid because Reece’s dog, Bobo, shed like crazy and Reece was always taking Bobo for a ride.
He got back to school and slipped right into the routine as if he’d never been gone, hauling the oversize trash cans from the school cafeteria to the Dumpsters and sweeping up the floor after the last lunch shift had ended. He stayed busy all afternoon and then went to work cleaning up the rooms after school was out, thinking all the time of the comfort waiting for him back home. Even though he and his brother shared a house, they didn’t share their lives. Louis worked days, his brother worked nights and, even though they shared a vehicle and sometimes the dog, their paths rarely crossed.
His steps were dragging as he locked up the building and headed to the parking lot. It was almost supper time, but he was going home to take a nap. He’d always taken a nap after school when he was little and he did the same thing now because routines and schedules were how Louis Parsons rolled.
The house he and Reece rented was on the far side of the park in the old part of Mystic. The houses weren’t shacks, but they were a little run-down, most of them in need of a coat or two of paint or minor repairs. Louis had fixed the front steps when they’d moved in, and painted the porch so the outside looked neat. The interior was a work in progress. He liked to stay busy during the day, even on weekends, but that meant quiet projects because Reece slept days.
He unlocked the door and entered quietly, wrinkling his nose at the doggy smell of the house as he headed for the kitchen with his to-go coffee mug. He rinsed it out to refill tomorrow, wrote a note to Reece telling him what food was available in the refrigerator for his nighttime meals and headed down the hall to his room.
He took off his work clothes without looking at his body, and slipped between the sheets and closed his eyes. Silence engulfed him as he fell asleep.
Trey finished writing up the report, and then printed it out and filed it. It was almost noon before he got the schedules rearranged and his officers back on duty. And he still hadn’t checked in with Dallas. He went