Page 12 of A Dead End Fourth of July (Tiger’s Eye Mysteries #14)

Jack

Iwalked into Beau's Diner to utter chaos.

Cletus McKee was sitting on the floor, holding his head in his hands.

A man I didn't know and had never seen before was out cold on the floor next to him.

And Tess's Uncle Mike was crouched down, bent over someone else on the floor.

I caught a flash of red hair.

It was Tess.

Tess was down.

I didn't know the noise was coming out of my throat until I heard the roar when I leapt over two tables and several people in one giant bound to get to my wife.

"What happened?" I snarled, hitting my knees next to her, lifting her into my arms, staring down at her pale, pale face.

She was still conscious, but her eyes were wild with pain and sadness.

I whipped my head to stare at Mike. "Who hurt her? What happened?"

He shook his head. "Nobody hurt her. Well, Cletus did—"

"Cletus is a dead man," I said, the words a painful rasp in my throat. "Tess. Tess, baby. Talk to me."

"Not … not his fault," she whispered.

Then she fainted.

I slowly turned my head to stare at Cletus McKee, and whatever he saw in my eyes turned his already-pale face dead white.

"I didn't mean to touch her," he wheezed through a swollen and bleeding mouth. His nose dripped blood, too, but didn't look broken.

I could fix that for him.

"Hatfield knocked me down so hard my head bounced off the floor," he rushed to continue, his words tumbling over each other as if he could see his impending death in my eyes.

"And so you attacked Tess?"

"No!"

Mike put a hand on my shoulder. "Nobody attacked Tess. Cletus got his bell rung but good, so he was dizzy and reached out for someone to help pull him up. Just wrong place, wrong time that Tess was the one standing there. I'm pretty sure she saw … something."

Oh.

Oh.

Tess must have seen a vision of Cletus's death, and it had to have been a violent one. She hadn't fainted from a vision for a long time, unless it involved a violent or grisly death.

I swore long and fluently under my breath, using some choice words of ancient Atlantean my friends had taught me so as not to shock the folks at Beau's.

"I need to get her home." I stood with Tess in my arms and made my way to the door, barely noticing how fast everybody moved to get out of my way.

But this was Dead End, and people cared enough about Tess to stifle any fear they had of an enraged tiger shifter, so a lot of well-wishes followed us.

A few even dared to pat my arm or shoulder as I passed them, including Lorraine, who'd never been afraid of anything in her life.

Mike made it to the door first and held it open. "Do you want me to drive your truck so you can sit with her in the back?"

I nodded, unable to speak, cradling Tess close.

She was so pale she was nearly transparent beneath the honey-gold tan she'd picked up on the beaches of Atlantis.

Her breathing was too shallow, her pulse was too fast, and I wanted so very much to turn around and beat the living crap out of Cletus McKee and whoever that other guy was who'd clearly been part of the problem.

When we got on the road, I met Mike's gaze in the rearview mirror. "Tell me."

He filled me in on the fight, Skeeter Hatfield, and his own part in it. Both of us ignored the calls and texts buzzing furiously on our phones.

"Nice job," I said, when he told me about knocking Hatfield out.

"Ruby won't see it that way." He hunched his shoulders a little. "Wouldn’t surprise me if she sends the sheriff out to arrest me for assault."

Despite my worry and anger, I had to grin. "Rough being married to the mayor, I guess."

He sighed. "You have no idea."

At home, I tucked Tess into bed and gave her uncle a glass of whiskey, even though it was not yet two in the afternoon, because he looked like he needed it. I also got him some ice for his hand, and we sat at the kitchen table, mostly in silence.

"Bruised my knuckles on his face," he said mildly, turning his phone off when it rang again. "Want to take odds on how long it takes her to show up here?"

"The mayor or the sheriff?"

"Yes."

But Tess surprised us by waking up and wandering out to the kitchen before either Susan or Ruby arrived. She'd changed out of her Dead End Pawn shirt and jeans into a blue sundress, and she was so beautiful it made my chest ache.

I jumped up and pulled her into my arms. "Hey. How are you?"

She clung to me for a long moment and then pulled back to look up at me. "Headache. It was a rough one."

"What happened?"

She glanced at Uncle Mike, and I immediately understood.

Tess believed she owed a certain level of confidentiality to the people whose deaths she saw in her visions.

She'd told me that how people died was none of her business, and the curse or gift or power she had didn’t change that.

She felt guilty enough just knowing it herself, so she definitely wouldn't tell anybody else.

Not even the person whose death she'd seen, if they didn’t want to know.

"It's okay, honey," Mike said. "I don't expect you to tell us that."

He walked over to hug her too, and then they sat down. I poured Tess a glass of lemonade and took the seat next to her.

"Are you okay? Really?"

She shrugged. Sighed. "I guess. This never gets any easier. And I really, really didn't want to see anything about Cletus McKee."

"We've talked about this before," I said gently. "You don't know for sure that all your visions will come true. Most of them are about things so far in the future you may never know."

"Yeah. But I saw you die," she reminded me. "That first death, before your friends resuscitated you. And there have been a few others."

"But until you know for sure, why carry that weight? Maybe your visions are a horrible preview of something that might happen. I believe in free will, not a fated destiny."

She smiled at me, but her eyes were so tired. "So do I, as you know. We've talked about this. I can only hope you're right."

I winced. "Brace yourself. Ruby's car just came up the driveway."

Mike raised an eyebrow, but I just tapped my ears.

"Superior Tiger Hearing," Tess reminded her uncle.

He snorted, but then he stood and squared his shoulders. "Time to face the music."

Ruby rushed into the house and headed straight for Tess, who hugged her. I wasn't sure who was comforting whom, and I'm not sure they knew, either. Then Ruby and Mike headed for home. From the look in Ruby's eyes, her husband was going to get an earful.

"Michael Callahan," I heard before they closed their car doors, and I winced. It's never good when people use your full name.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tess usually shared with me, because she knew anything she told me went into the vault, but I never pressed.

She nodded, busy with her phone. "Just texting Eleanor to be sure she still wants to work this afternoon. If not, we'll just stay closed. I'm not up for going back."

I sat on the couch next to the cat and pulled Tess down to curl up on my lap. She put her head on my shoulder, and we sat in silence for a while. I stroked her hair and waited for the tension in her shoulders to relax.

"I can't believe you went to Beau's on fish and chips day and didn't order any for me," I finally said, making her laugh a little.

The sound sent a jagged wave of relief through me. If she could laugh, she was okay.

"It was bad, Jack. He … Cletus. Somebody shot him. It was dark, and somebody shot him, and he died right in front of me." Her breath hitched again, and I held her close, saying nothing, until she calmed down again.

"Maybe it won't happen."

But she shook her head. "Pretty to think that, but I'm so afraid that my visions are always right. That no matter what path people take, somehow they end up in that particular spot, with that particular death."

"What spot? Did you see where he was?"

"It was too dark. I could barely see him, except there was a flash of light after he fell, as if someone opened a door, maybe? I don't know. But …"

I waited.

"He wasn't old, Jack. He looked the same as he does now." She jumped up to pace.

"People can look the same for lots of reasons. Maybe he dyes his hair later on or gets work done. Maybe it was too dark to really see. Maybe—"

"No. I saw clearly when that light flashed. If this death happens—when it happens—he won't be more than a decade older than he is right now."

"Tess, I've never asked this before, but …" I took a deep breath. She was so tired and heartsick. Should I really ask?

"Go ahead," she said wearily. "What is it?"

"Did you see who shot him?"

"No. No, I only saw a … shadow. Maybe a flash of metal on his hand?"

"His? It was definitely a man?"

"No, I—it was just a hand. Too dark to tell man or woman. But it was a white person. I saw the skin color on the hand … unless they were white gloves?"

She clutched her head. "Argh! I just don't know. If I have to see these awful things, why can't they at least be useful?"

I stood and pulled her close, murmuring soothing noises into her hair, frustrated with my inability to help.

"And the way Cletus looked at me. Like I was the Grim Reaper. I hate that so much."

"Are you going to tell him what you saw?"

She shuddered and pulled away to pace around the room, so I sat back down to give her space. Lou curled up on the back of the couch and watched her walk back and forth like she was watching a tennis match.

"I don't know. I don't know! Do I owe that to people?

Do I owe them a duty to tell them what I see in their future?

What if you're right, and it's not guaranteed?

Will thinking it's unavoidable cause them to do something, anything, different that might circle the wheel around so that very death does actually happen? "

"I think you're the only one who can answer any of that," I told her. "But mostly, it seems unknowable."

Her phone buzzed on the table, startling her, and she glanced down at it and then back at me, her expression bleak. "I guess I'd better figure it out sooner rather than later. That's Cletus McKee calling."