The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 Paula Lester (year 7 reading list .txt) 📖

She shook her head. “Can I talk to Timothy for a minute?”

His brow scrunched. “I don’t know.” He glanced over his shoulder into the room at something she couldn’t see.

“It’ll just take a minute, I promise. I want to ask him something.”

Bubba shrugged and opened the door wider. “I guess it’s okay. Nobody told me he couldn’t have visitors. And he has the cuffs on. They’ll stop him if he tries to do anything weird.”

“Thanks.” Tessa followed Bubba in, closing the door behind her. It was a regular hotel room with two beds. An old comedy played on the TV.

Timothy, who had been lying on one of the beds, rolled onto his elbow and pushed himself up. His hair and clothes were rumpled, lapel stained as usual. He looked miserable.

“Hey, there.” She sat on the foot of the bed, more than arm’s length away from him. “How are you holding up?”

He shook his head. “Not so great, actually.”

“I can understand that. Listen, for what it’s worth, I don’t really think you’re guilty.”

His gaze met hers. “That’s worth a lot. Thanks.”

“I was just at the awards ceremony, and Lee won by three allocations. I was thinking about that. How many allocations were the numbers off by before the conference? You know, when you and April went to Chicago to investigate it.”

“Four,” he answered.

Four. Did that make sense?

Dani . . .

Her mind whirled as puzzle pieces slotted together. She thought about the rivalry between April and Lee. How some said they’d both go to any length to outdo each other. Tessa had thought that was hyperbole, but maybe it wasn’t. At least for one of them.

“Well, my shift is over.” Bubba got up and headed for the door. “Tessa, you coming with me or staying here?”

The three mis-allocations were exactly the ones Lee needed to win the award. Which meant April wasn’t the killer at all.

Bubba opened the door. “Ah! You’re right on time. Thanks for relieving me.”

A slither made its way up Tessa’s spine as she realized who must be behind the murders of the two reapers.

The same person who had just arrived to take Bubba’s place. Who had entered the room and closed the door. Who stood smiling at her, oozing charm.

Lee Stuart.

Chapter 19

A QUICK GLANCE AT TIMOTHY let Tessa know she was right about Lee. Or at least that he’d come to the same conclusion as she had. The assistant’s face lost its color, and he shrank back against the headboard as though trying to blend in with it.

Lee’s gaze moved from Tessa to Timothy and back. A slow smile raised the corners of his mouth, and he reached over to lock the deadbolt.

Tessa’s mind raced as she tried to figure out how to get out of the predicament. She decided the best thing to do was to keep her mouth shut—act like she hadn’t put things together. In theory, it’d work because there were still several facets she’d yet to understand.

If she could convince Lee she was harmless, maybe he’d let her go. And then, she could find her mother, or, even better, Mr. Blade.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Lee’s smile grew broader. “A gathering of the minds? Fraternizing with the enemy? You’re aware this man is charged with, well, serious charges. It could even be viewed as murder in a certain light.”

“I didn’t do it. Tessa knows I didn’t do it.”

“Does she now?” Lee leaned back against the door, crossing his arms and ankles. “And who does she suppose did?”

Unfortunately for Tessa and the solid, safe plan, the connection between her brain and mouth was, as usual, broken. Her brain was unable to stop her mouth from blurting out, “It was you. You killed Art. And Cynthia. Didn’t you? And probably more.”

She winced.

Timothy winced.

Come on, mouth. Work with me here. “Why, though?” Clearly, her mouth had gone rogue, and Tessa would just have to roll with it.

“It was all part of the game.”

“Game? Taking people’s lives—before they’re supposed to go—is a game for you?” Rage boiled up in her chest, and she spat out, “Little Dani’s life . . . her death . . .  that’s a game to you?”

Lee chuckled. “We take lives every day. That’s what we do. There are so many people on this earth. No one really notices a few extras gone.”

“Besides their families, their friends—”

“Their coworkers,” Lee finished. “That’s why you stuck your nose in it. All for a couple of people you barely even met.”

Tessa balled her fists. She wanted to leap on the evil man and throttle him with her bare hands. But she forced herself to breathe deeply and stay seated, reminding herself that he was dangerous.

She glanced at Timothy. His eyes were wide.

“It was all for the contest, wasn’t it?” Tessa accused.

“My rivalry with April has gotten more heated every year,” he conceded. “Not only do we spar over the award, but we also place personal bets on various other things.” His eyes slid to Timothy. “Including mythical death allotments.”

Timothy looked like he was going to be sick.

It looked like Tessa would have to win this fight alone. She only hoped he kept it together. If she was going to die in here by Lee’s hands, she didn’t want it to be beside vomit.

Lee shook his head, still looking amused. “In an orderly world, the allotments would be about equal between our two divisions—barring a natural disaster or something, of course. But this world isn’t ordered. It’s dirty and rough and competitive. People who understand that and give in to the natural order of things will always do better than those who don’t—goody-two-shoes like the both of you.”

Tessa’s eyebrows went up. Timothy looked away from Lee.

“Yes, that’s right.” Lee’s hard gaze pinned Timothy. “I know you were working against me.”

Timothy didn’t answer, but a muscle clenched in his jaw.

“I don’t understand,” Tessa interjected. “How did Art’s and Cynthia’s deaths count for you? They lived