Nighthawk & The Return of Luke McGuire (34 page)

With an effort, he said merely, “Yes.”

He waited, leaving the ball in her court. Somewhat to his surprise, she only nodded and told him to have a nice day. He watched as she drove away and wondered if she would take up a position down the hill and wait for him.

He turned to look out toward the ocean again but finally had to admit it wasn’t going to work this time, that the sense of solitude wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe it was the cop’s visit. Maybe it was the lurking presence of the heavy equipment that would soon turn this place into just one more housing development, or maybe he was simply anxious to get out of Santiago Beach.

Maybe it was just that he was an adult now, with problems too complex to be eased by a peaceful vista. But he knew that wasn’t really true; he still found peace and comfort in the new wild places he’d found. Or maybe he was restless, anxious to get back to those places.

Maybe he was just restless, period, and that was what had sent him shooting up the hill to this place.

His mouth twisted. He knew perfectly well what had sent him screaming up here, and her name was Amelia.

He reached for the helmet he’d forgone on the way up and jammed it on, for the benefit of the cop he figured would be waiting for him. He started the bike, wheeled it around and started down the hill at a much more decorous pace than he’d come up it. And when he passed the police car, parked and waiting, pointed down the hill to come after him if necessary, he nodded and waved; it could have been worse, he thought.

It could have been Jim Stavros, who had made a special trip to Amelia’s store just to warn her about him.

He smiled behind the helmet as he remembered how quiet, reserved Ms. Blair had stood up for him. It had happened rarely enough in his life, certainly not often enough for him to take it for granted. And never here.

And she hadn’t even asked him, despite the pointed hint, what he was doing now.

Maybe she thought she already knew, he thought, a little grimly. Maybe she figured, like everyone else did, that he was up to no good like always.

But surely she wouldn’t have kissed him then? Because she hadn’t just let him kiss her; she had kissed him back. It had been hesitant and unpracticed, but she
had
kissed him back.

The heated memories stormed back into the front of his mind from where they’d been lurking not far away ever since it had happened.

So much for quiet and reserved; she’d almost fried him with that kiss.

Distance. That was what he needed, distance from the unexpectedly explosive woman who hid that fire behind a facade of reserve and shyness.

He was still pondering—dangerously, he knew—the possibilities there as he reached the bottom of the canyon road and headed back toward town. A convenience store with a boarded-up front window caught his eye for a moment—it hadn’t been like that yesterday, he thought—but nothing was quite distracting enough to keep his mind occupied.

Back at the motel, he had his duffel bag inside and was dragging out the clothes he’d just laundered before he noticed the message light was lit on the telephone.

He crossed the room and dialed the office; the small motel didn’t run to sophisticated voice mail. A female voice came on the line—the wife of the man who had checked him in, Luke supposed. He’d said he and “the missus” ran the place.

The tiniest hint of curiosity came into her voice when she realized who was calling. He tried to ignore it, tried not to think of what she might have heard that would make her suddenly interested in a guest who’d been there a couple of days already.

“The message?” he prompted.

“Oh, of course.” He heard the rustle of paper. “Here it is. It’s from Amelia Blair and says ‘David went home. He’s grounded for a month.’ That’s all.”

Luke let out a sigh of relief. Grounded for a month seemed rather mild, compared to his own history with their mother’s punishments.

And then his brow furrowed. “Did she say Amelia Blair?”

“Yes, that’s what it is. I always make sure I get names right.”

“I mean, did she say Blair, or did you ask her last name?”

“She said it. I only asked how to spell it.”

“Thanks,” he said, and hung up.

She’d said her last name? How many Amelias did she think he knew here? Was it simply a habit, to give her last name when leaving a message?

Or had she done it intentionally, given that formal “Amelia Blair” as if they weren’t even on a first-name basis?

Irritation spiked through him at that thought. But it was quickly followed by a sheepish realization. Hadn’t he just been recommending to himself that he put some distance between them? But when it seemed she might be doing the same, all of a sudden he wasn’t happy with the idea.

His mouth twitched at his own rueful self-assessment. For somebody who had spent his childhood all too aware that life could be very inequitable, he’d just pulled a beaut. If he was going to pull back, then she had the same right.

If he didn’t like that, then maybe he needed to think about why.

And if he didn’t want to think about it, maybe he needed to figure out the why of that, too.

“C
hild is going to turn out just like his brother, you mark my words.”

This had to be a record, Amelia thought; Mrs. Clancy came in regularly, but never three days in one week. And this time she didn’t seem interested in even pretending to look for something to buy; she’d headed for Amelia the moment she’d spotted her and started right in.

“My George spoke to Mrs. Hanson from the convenience store this morning, and she’s certain the Hiller boy and his friends are responsible for that broken window. And no doubt that fire in the Dumpster behind the library and destroying the playground in the park.”

“David has been grounded,” Amelia said; perhaps she shouldn’t let that out, but she wanted to nip this in the bud.

“Well, he hasn’t let that stop him,” Mrs. Clancy said with a sniff. “I saw him and those other delinquents just last night, as we came out of the movie theater. Nearly midnight, when he should have been at home.”

Amelia frowned. “You’re certain it was David?”

“Of course I am. My eyes are still sharp, girl.”

If she was right, then David must be sneaking out, Amelia thought, stifling a sigh. And if he was, he was headed for even more trouble.

“You’re not still seeing that boy, are you?”

“David?” Amelia asked, knowing perfectly well what the woman meant.

“Don’t you get smart with me,” Mrs. Clancy warned. “You know who I mean.”

The last thing she needed was the imperious woman angry at her, so Amelia answered by stating a truth she wasn’t necessarily happy with. She hadn’t seen or heard from Luke since he’d kissed her, and she didn’t like any of the reasons that she could come up with.

“I haven’t been ‘seeing’ him at all, not in that sense,” Amelia said, neglecting to mention that the idea of spending more time with Luke was oddly exhilarating, considering that she was spending most of her time telling herself that that kiss had meant nothing. That he was probably used to kissing women like that all the time. That he’d only meant to thank her for standing up for him to Jim, not curl her toes and very nearly her hair. It wasn’t his fault if she’d…overreacted.

You reacted,
she told herself wryly,
like a love-starved prude who suddenly woke up. You probably embarrassed him, that’s why he took off running like that. He’d been saying a simple thank-you, and you reacted as if he’d declared undying love.

“—of your reputation. People will talk, you know.” And some of them, Amelia thought wearily, will talk endlessly. “For one thing, you must be years older than he is.”

“Thank you for pointing that out,” Amelia said, her tone a bit acid; she’d done the math long ago. But her sarcasm was lost amid the continuing lecture.

“And for all we know,
he’s
the one behind all this vandalism. It’s just the sort of thing he’d do.”

What happened to your certainty it was David?
Amelia wondered. Mrs. Clancy was one of her best customers, and she’d never had a problem with her before, had always thought of her as set in her ways but a good person at heart. But if the woman told her one more time what a wastrel, cad and scoundrel Luke was, she was going to say something rude.

Or at least give the woman a current dictionary, so she could pick out some new words, perhaps rooted in this century.

“Remember your gardenia, Mrs. Clancy?” Amelia said, not caring that she’d interrupted the woman’s latest harangue.

“My gardenia?” the woman said, startled.

“Yes. Remember all the trouble you had when you first got it? All the books you had to consult, to get the soil and conditions just right so it would bloom?”

“Well, of course.” The woman shook her head, but there was a note of pride in her voice. “Took me nearly three years to get that bush to bloom. But now it’s the best in town, probably even in the county.”

“Why didn’t you give up on it?”

“Give up? I knew I just had to find the right combination, and with enough care and attention it would thrive.”

“So you’d say it changed a great deal from the troublesome plant you first bought?”

“Well…yes.”

“If a plant can do it, Mrs. Clancy, why can’t a person?”

There were a few seconds’ delay before the woman got her point. Then she frowned, her face as set as her mind apparently was.

“You’re too generous, girl. Luke McGuire will never change.”

Amelia’s jaw tightened with determination. “You know, walking past your garden today, you would never know what he once did to it. I’ll bet that before he came back, even you had forgotten. But he didn’t. It’s been ten years, and he still feels guilty.”

“As well he should.”

“But don’t you see?” Amelia said, sounding almost urgent, even to her own ears. “If he was as bad as you’ve painted him, he wouldn’t care at all.”

Mrs. Clancy opened her mouth to retort. Then closed it. Her frown deepened.

Amelia could only hope it was because she was having to think about her hatred, probably for the first time in a decade.

When the woman finally left, Amelia breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. She didn’t know how much more of this advice giving she could take, however well-intentioned it might be. She supposed she should be happy that people cared enough to warn her. And she might be, were it not for the niggling certainty that it was mainly the fact that it was Luke who was garnering her all this concern.

Think about David,
she ordered herself.

The problem was, she didn’t know what else to do. To the outside eye, the boy had a good—even enviable, if comforts and money were your standards—home. And his mother had become the proverbial pillar of the community; she might once have been the subject of gossip, but now she was the object of admiration for overcoming a rocky start, and even more for having done it with the drawback of a ne’er-do-well son like Luke.

Too bad they weren’t as generous when it came to that son.

And there she was, back on that channel again. For nearly two days she’d waited, wondered what he was thinking, if she would hear from him, until finally she was convinced she was either losing her mind or a fool, and she wasn’t sure which of the two she preferred.

She’d even sunk to driving by the motel this morning after her kickboxing class—a class she’d attacked with a bit more vehemence than usual—telling herself it was only a block out of her way. His motorcycle hadn’t been parked outside his room, and she was torn between wondering where he was and wondering if he was even still in town at all.

The possibility that he’d simply left without a word to her stung. But she couldn’t deny it was a possibility. He hardly owed her a formal goodbye, just because of one kiss.

David was another matter. Surely he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to his brother?

But if David was still angry, as his actions seemed to indicate, he might well be in no mood to see his brother at all. And it was David she should be worried about, not her own silly feelings. It wasn’t David’s fault if she let her imagination run away with her every time she saw his brother.

It wasn’t Luke’s fault, either, really, she admitted wryly as she called up her accounting program on the computer, desperate enough for distraction to tackle even that. He was probably trying to be kind by staying away, so she didn’t get any silly ideas. Any more than she already had, anyway.

When the door alarm activated, she instinctively smiled at the classic voice of Mr. Spock, but inside she was chanting to her heart not to leap, her eyes not to snap toward the door in hope….

It was David.

He looked ragged enough for Mrs. Clancy to have been right about him being out all night. And suddenly she didn’t know what to do or say. The closer the boy got to the edge, the more afraid she was that she might inadvertently push him even further. So when he came to a stop beside the counter, the only thing she could think of to say was, “Are you all right?”

David shrugged.

She tried again. “I heard you got grounded.”

He shrugged again. But this time at least he spoke. “It’s not so bad, if you know how to get around it.”

“Are you getting around it now?”

A third shrug. He was working awfully hard to give the impression he didn’t care. “She thinks I’m in one of her stupid summer classes. And since she’s off on her crusade again, she doesn’t care, really.”

“David—”

“And don’t tell me she does. She doesn’t know how.”

“I won’t try to change your mind about that, David,” she said, not wanting to make it more difficult for the boy to get along with his mother, but not wanting to deny what she suspected was the truth, either. “But if you think you have it bad, imagine how it must feel to be the reason your mother’s on this crusade. To know she blames you for ruining her life.”

For a moment David’s mouth tightened stubbornly. Clearly he was still angry at his brother. But then what she’d said must have gotten through.

“Yeah, I know she blames him. Like there’s anything to blame him for. She’s got such a tough life,” David added sarcastically.

“Do you remember your grandmother?”

“Not really. I was just a baby when she died. And my mother never talks about her much. I think she was a real nasty old witch, though.” He gave Amelia a sideways look. “And yeah, I know, that’s probably why Mom’s the way she is.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier to live with though, does it?” Amelia asked sympathetically.

“I think the old bat was awful to Luke, too.”

Well, Amelia thought, if he realized that, maybe he was coming around as far as his brother was concerned.

“Why don’t you ask him?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “Or are you still not speaking to him?”

David took a deep breath. He stared down at the counter. “I thought he’d understand. I thought he’d get me out of here.”

“He does understand. But unfortunately, everything he said was true. No official agency would let you live with him over your mother. He didn’t make the laws, David.”

His head came up then. “No, but all of a sudden he’s living by them?”

“Is that what you want, for him to break the law for you? End up in trouble all over again?”

David didn’t answer, but he did look uncomfortable. So he wasn’t
that
angry with Luke. She decided to press the point and maybe wake him up a little about his own actions, as well.

“Or maybe you’d just rather get in trouble yourself, so he can feel even more guilty about the example he set for you?”

His eyes widened slightly, then his gaze darted away, and she knew she’d struck a nerve. With a sinking feeling inside, she realized Mrs. Clancy was probably right about what he’d been up to.

“You know,” she said, “there are some people in town who are blaming your brother for what’s going on, all the vandalism and break-ins. Don’t you think he’s taken enough heat around here without taking yours, too?”

“I can’t help who they blame,” David said; it wasn’t quite an admission, but it was close. She changed tacks.

“Maybe your mother doesn’t care like she should, David. Maybe she never learned how. But you know I care. And your brother cares, too.”

“Yeah?” It was disbelieving, but not sarcastic, giving Amelia hope.

“Yes. He told me you were the only good memory he had of this place.”

David looked startled at that. “He did?”

She nodded. “He came a long way, just to see if he could help. He probably already knew he couldn’t do what you wanted him to, but he came anyway. Because he cares.”

David studied her for a moment. “How come you’re not like the rest of them? You don’t hate him for what he did back then.”

“Well, I wasn’t here then. I didn’t know him—”

“A lot of them didn’t, either. But they heard bad things and they believed them, and hated him even though he never did nothing to them.”

“I try not to judge people on hearsay,” Amelia said, realizing even as she said it that she sounded a bit self-righteous. So she added, with a smile, “And I guess maybe I’ve always had a thing for the underdog.”

Or bad boys,
she admitted silently. For whatever reason, it was true. Maybe because she’d always been so blessed good all her life, people who weren’t fascinated her. Of course, it didn’t hurt that this one looked like something from that slightly wicked, wrong kind of paradise.

Mr. Spock spoke again, and this time she looked up eagerly and with hope. David was feeling much more favorably toward his brother now; if it was Luke…

It was Snake. And entourage.

Amelia went instantly on guard.

“Hey, Hiller-man, what’re you doin’ in this place?”

“Just hanging out,” David said, and already Amelia could see the change in him. He was suddenly slouching, and his entire expression had changed to one of cocky insolence touched with chronic anger.

“She’s a little old for you, isn’t she?” one of the other boys said, with a snicker.

“And boring, like these books,” Snake said, giving Amelia a look that reminded her rather forcefully of the knife he no doubt had in his pocket. But he turned back to David then, and Amelia cravenly let out an inaudible breath of relief.

“You want to hang with us,” Snake said, “you can’t keep comin’ here. Makes you look like a wimp, you know?”

“Yeah, sure,” David said with a shrug.

“C’mon, man, we got plans to make before midnight.”

“Sure,” David said again.

And just like that he walked out with them, leaving Amelia stunned anew at the power of peer pressure.

And more worried than ever that David was headed for serious trouble.

“Going to be with us much longer?”

Luke grimaced as he handed the motel night manager another day’s rent for tomorrow. “I don’t know.”

He hadn’t intended to be here this long. And for the past two days, he’d just hung around doing not much of anything, except going through the money he’d allotted for the trip.

He should have just kept right on going, he thought as he headed back toward his room, after he’d left the bookstore that evening. Should have pointed the bike north, and by 3:00 a.m. he would have been home. Back in the mountains, the river country, where he’d finally found his life.