Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

Gerome is not"--Tessa hesitated--"who she pretends to be."
    "I didn't know you'd even met the woman before."
    "I hadn't," Tessa admitted. "But Will told me about her. She's evil. She'd do anything to get the tapestry back."
    "She paid us ten thousand dollars, Tessa. I don't think she's been exactly underhanded about things. Or evil."
    Tessa shook her head. "It's not about the money, Dad. Now that she has the tapestry, Will's life is ... in danger."
    "C'mon, that's a bit dramatic, isn't it?" Her father's anger seemed to have deflated now. He walked over and gave her a gentle rub on the shoulder. "It can't be that bad. Tell me about it. Maybe I can help."
    Tessa loved her father so much. She could see how badly he wanted to figure this out. To solve the problem for her, as if she were a little girl again. But this was her problem. She had gotten herself into this mess somehow. She would be the one to fix it.
    "I'm not being dramatic, Dad." Tessa tried to keep her voice low and steady, but she couldn't help it. The fear crept in.
    Her father just nodded. He suddenly seemed very tired, and years older. "Tessa," he began slowly, "I can understand that you might have a hard time with me having, you know, a relationship. But doing reckless things, getting yourself in with the wrong kind of people--that's not the way to get my attention."
    As his words sank in, Tessa gaped at her father, open-mouthed. "You think I did this to get your attention? " she demanded.
    Jackson Brody nodded. "Yeah. And I understand. It's my fault--"
    Tessa let out an angry cry. "Dad! This has nothing to do with you and Alicia. This is about me and Will."
    "You don't need someone like that in your life, Tessa. Whatever kind of trouble he's in, I don't want him dragging you into it."
    "You don't know anything about him!"
    Her father rubbed his eyes. "Look. Tessa. I know I've been pretty liberal and maybe not the best parent around. Things haven't been easy since your mother ..." He shook his head. "But there's got to be a limit. I don't want this guy coming around here." Jackson Brody's face was suddenly uncompromising. All the softness was gone.
    Tessa stared at the floor, choking back tears. Her father's words shot down the last of her composure. Coming around here? He hardly needed to worry about that. Will de Chaucy was gone.
    "You're wrong, Dad," Tessa whispered. "You've been great. Until now."

Chapter 33

That night the weather changed. An icy blanket of cold air drifted over the coast of Maine. It chilled the moisture on the pavement to a glistening coat of frost and wilted the early April flowers, making crocuses shrivel back to the soil. Even more unusual, the radio announcer talked about snow squalls that had whited out the region as far north as Bangor.
    But when Tessa got up, she paid no attention to the weird weather. She was too busy trying to act normal herself. Or at least going through the motions.
    She slipped an oversized wool sweater over her leggings and tugged her hair into a high ponytail. Down in the store she brewed coffee and put on her father's favorite playlist of jazz. The familiar routine did nothing to raise her spirits. It was as if she were performing steps to a dance she used to know, but there was no music. Every so often, Tessa would imagine that she wasn't even there anymore. That it wasn't Will who had disappeared, but her.
    She was even glad to hear the bell jangle as Alicia Highsmith walked into the store.
    "Good Lord," Alicia announced. Her sharp eyes swept over the store, as if she was mentally calculating a balance sheet. "Your father told me it was a little accident. It looks like a bulldozer came through this place."
    Tessa didn't know how to answer, so she just turned away and went back to work. A short time later she could hear Alicia and her father talking in low voices. Probably trying to figure out how to cope with his crazy daughter, who was "acting out." She wasn't his sweet, dependable Tessa anymore. Maybe she had never been that girl, Tessa thought. Maybe, deep down, she had always been wild and irresponsible.
    Tessa would have loved to escape. She tried calling Opal, but strangely, there was no answer. And there was no call from Opal, no text, nothing.
    Alicia stayed, working late into the day, calling a local contractor about repairs to the doors. She and Tessa kept their conversation to a few polite words when they had to speak. It was awkward and awful. But it was better to have Alicia there