THE MISSING (L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Book 4) (10 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JULIANNA NIPPED AT A CUTICLE on one finger with her teeth. “I’ll go along, too.”

Luke’s head came up. “I wouldn’t let you stay here alone if you wanted to.”

She should’ve bristled at the comment, but instead the tension that had been building ever since Luke had arrived slipped down a notch. Maybe he was only staying because of a sense of police duty, but it had been a while since anyone cared where she went or what she did…and it felt good.

The phone rang and Luke answered. He nodded at her that it was the doc. Thank heaven for small-town doctors who didn’t wait days to respond.

After explaining his father’s symptoms, Luke’s end of the conversation was pretty much yes and no answers. When he hung up, he gave her a strange look.

“Well?”

“The doc says to watch him tonight. If he develops any chest pain, pain down the arm, inability to put sentences together, we should give him an aspirin and bring him in right away.”

“How will we know if Abe doesn’t tell us?”

“I’ll go check on him in a little while and see if I can get him to answer some questions. Other than that, the doc seems to think he’s got a virus of some kind, and he’s just not as resilient as he used to be. Illness is bound to affect him more at this age than it used to.”

Julianna leaned against the fridge, relief seeping into her. She hadn’t realized until now how worried she was about Abe.

As if he knew what she was feeling, Luke reached out and touched her arm. “He said there’s no need to panic.”

Something fluttered inside. His hand was warm. Reassuring. “I’m glad,” she said, her voice sounding low and froggy. “I—I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to—”

Luke pulled her close, cradling her in his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. “He’s okay. Don’t worry.” He lifted her chin with two fingers and stared directly into her eyes.

She thought his mouth moved closer, or maybe hers did. She sensed he might kiss her and her heart raced as if she’d just run a marathon. He could probably feel it thudding against him. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, and pushed away.

“Thanks. I guess I do overreact a little.”

His smile seemed guarded. Either he didn’t like that she’d pushed him away or he didn’t like that he’d held her in the first place. God, why was she second-guessing everything? What did it matter what he was thinking?

“I’ll get those steaks on now,” he said. “And why don’t we eat on the patio. It’s really a nice night.”

She straightened. “Sure. I’d love to. I’ll get the table settings.”

Thankful to have something to do, she collected what they needed, a couple of straw place mats, plates, flatware and napkins. And the wine. Had to have the wine. She brought everything outside to the area where the grill was located. It wasn’t a fancy patio, but a big rectangle of adobe tiles, some chipped and worn. An outdoor Kiva fireplace squatted in one corner, and the whole area was covered by a crosshatched trellis with pink flowering vines growing over the top. The vines provided shade in the summertime and tonight, the twinkle lights left over from the previous Christmas made it utterly romantic.

A few potted cacti dotted the edges of the tile, plants Julianna had given Abe years ago because he couldn’t kill them if he wanted. All were doing beautifully, as were the bright red bougainvillea that spilled over the adobe wall surrounding the patio. A hanging ristra, a rustic wooden table and chairs, and a mystical sunset completed the picture. Her heart warmed and she had a sense of peace just being here.

“What can I do to help?” she asked when she finished setting the table.

“Pour yourself some more wine and then sit down and talk to me. These will be done in a few minutes.” He glanced over. “That’s if you still like your steak medium-rare.”

“I do,” she said, smiling. He remembered. Something inside warmed at the thought. She had expected he’d brush away their past as he did most things that were no longer relevant in his life, but he remembered. Steak. An insignificant thing and yet somehow it seemed huge. She realized then how she’d hate it if they’d spent all those years together and he simply blotted everything from his mind. While she didn’t dwell on the past, she did have fond memories. She remembered…a lot.

“Do you still hang out with Jordan and Rico and…who was that other guy? Oh, wait, don’t tell me. I know. It’s on the tip of my tongue.”

Luke gave a hearty laugh. “You never could give anything up, could you?”

“Tex. That’s the guy. I only met him a couple of times.”

“Yeah, they’re all still there. Only the state of bachelorhood among them has been seriously challenged. Rico’s married now and Jordan is about to take the plunge. Tex has been living with someone for a couple of years and I’ll bet my paycheck he’s practicing marriage vows as we speak.”

“Wow. That only leaves you, then, doesn’t it?” She leaned a shoulder against the wall next to him and took a sip of wine. “Why did you never marry again?” She shouldn’t have asked the question, but couldn’t help herself.

His head came up. “I didn’t do very well the first time, so—” He shrugged. “What’s the point? I know what I need and what I don’t.”

His words stabbed, like a sharp knife in the ribs. Stupid though. She’d told herself the same thing more times than she wanted to admit. Still, it stung to know their marriage had left such a sour taste.

“How about you?”

“I don’t know. It just never happened.”

“No steady or live-in friend?”

“Nope. Not now anyway. You?”

He shook his head. “Not for a long time.”

“Wow, we’re really a pair, aren’t we?” she joked. But joking aside, she had to wonder. “Think there’s something intrinsically wrong with us that we can’t commit?”

Another hearty laugh. “Speak for yourself. My psyche is just fine. In fact it’s taken years to hone my inner self to this state of perfection.”

She coughed and snorted at the same time. “Uh…Excuse me, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No hurling until after dinner,” he said. “And right now I need plates.”

She stood, handed him one plate and then the other. Leaning toward the grill, she inhaled the sizzling scent. “Mmmm. They smell wonderful.”

His brows rose a tad, as if he’d just thought of something. “I guess that means you’ve held your ground.”

“Meaning?”

They sat down together. “Well, living in the same town as your mother, anything could’ve happened. She’s a Vegan isn’t she?”

“True. And she’s still trying to get me to embrace the vegan life. With no luck, as you can see. I’m still in search of the best hamburger in San Francisco. I haven’t found anywhere as good as Bernie’s.” They’d spent a lot of time at Bernie’s, with and without his buddies. Bernie’s made the best hamburgers in L.A.

Luke raised his drink and she followed suit. The crisp ping of her glass touching his metal can seemed somehow symbolic. Glass was delicate, easy to break if you weren’t careful. Metal was tough, resilient. And all the small talk in the world wasn’t going to stop the current of emotions that coursed between them.

As his eyes met hers, he leaned forward, his face close—close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her face. Her heartbeat quickened. Her palms started to sweat. Lord help her, she wanted to kiss him. Worse yet, she knew he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Uh…we better eat or the steaks will get cold,” she whispered.

As the words left her lips, his mouth met hers.

KISSING JULIANNA was as natural as breathing and it took all of Luke’s willpower to pull himself away. Especially as she leaned into the kiss, her lips warm and soft and willing. With their faces only inches apart, he said, “Bad move, huh.”

His hands still on her shoulders, he said, “I’d say I don’t know why I did that, but it would be a lie. I’ve wanted to since the day I got here.”

“But you didn’t.” Her tongue darted over her lips.

“I don’t always do everything I want to do. If I did I’d be in big trouble.”

“Well, now that you’ve got it over with, you don’t have to think about it any longer.” She moved from under his touch.

He laughed. “True. I’m sorry, though.”

“It’s okay. I wondered what it would be like, too.”

An awkward silence hung in the air, both obviously not knowing where to go from here. After another long moment, her fiddling with her fork and him wanting more than anything to guzzle the bottle of wine sitting on the table, he said, “Let’s call it a curiosity kiss and leave it at that.”

“Deal,” she said. “Now let’s eat this steak.”

By the time they finished the meal, they’d talked about the past five years: his career, though he didn’t tell her the worst of it, her career, their mutual friends…they’d talked about everything. Everything but…Michael. The heartbreak of their lives.

Like a two-ton elephant in the room, they chose to ignore that part of their life altogether. Because they both knew the reality of their loss. It wasn’t something that could be fixed. Ever.

“So,” he finally said. “I think I’ll go do a quick check on Pops.”

Pensive, she nodded.

He placed his hand over hers, but the words he wanted to say got stuck in his throat.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll clean up here. Then I’ve got some work to do.”

With that, he stood and walked down the hall, want and need nipping at his heels, regret filling the vast cavern of emptiness inside.

Abe’s room was dimly lit by a small night-light glowing in the bathroom. He wondered if Abe had put it there so he wouldn’t stumble when he got up at night.

Not wanting to wake his father, he lightly touched Abe’s forehead with his fingertips. He seemed hot. His breathing was shallow. If he had the flu, he would have a fever. Unsure what to do, Luke went back to the kitchen where Julianna was just finishing up. “He’s hot,” Luke said, “and his breathing is labored.”

She handed him the phone and the paper with the doctor’s number on it. “Thanks,” he said and punched in the number. He got the answering service again and left another message.

“Do you think he’s had a flu shot?” Julianna asked.

Luke shrugged. “I doubt it.” And they both knew the ramifications of that. Many seniors died every year from the flu, even some who’d been immunized. “We don’t know if he has the flu either. Maybe it’s something else.”

“Perhaps we should take him to the clinic, just to be sure?”

“Yeah. But let’s wait to hear what the doc has to say first.” They stood there for another long moment before Luke said, “Why don’t you go do whatever you need to do. I’ll wait here for the doctor to call back.”

“Okay,” she said, eyes questioning, as if she knew he was trying to get rid of her.

He was. He needed to be alone. He hadn’t thought about his father dying. Ever. Somehow it played into his own feelings of mortality. A subject he avoided like he avoided going to church. His job made denial necessary, because any second of any day could be his last.

The phone rang. It was Doctor Terry who asked a bunch of questions, then told Luke to bring Abe into his office in the morning. “What about now?” Luke asked. “I’d feel better bringing him to the clinic now.”

“There’s only a nurse on call tonight and I can’t get there until tomorrow.”

Luke tightened his grip on the phone. Something told him they couldn’t wait until morning. “Is there someplace else I can take him?”

“Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Santa Fe,” the physician said. “If you’re going to do that, I’ll call ahead so they’ll be expecting you.”

Luke thanked the man and hung up. He didn’t know why getting his father to see someone felt so urgent, but it just did. Getting Abe to agree to go along wasn’t as difficult as Luke had expected. That’s when he knew his father was really sick.

An hour and a half later Luke and Julianna sat in the sterile white hallway waiting for Dr. Martinez to tell them what was wrong with Abe. God help him, Luke was reminded of another sterile, white room. His heart ached with the memory. He studied Jules, who sat quietly next to him reading a magazine. This had to be affecting her as well. But she seemed to have nerves of steel. A total switch from the woman he’d known five years ago.

“Mr. Coltrane.” Dr. Martinez came over to sit in the chair next to Luke. “Your father should have some more tests but it looks like pneumonia, and his emphysema exacerbates the problem, making treatment more difficult.”

“Emphysema?” Luke looked at Julianna who shrugged. Apparently she wasn’t aware of it either. But it made sense. Abe had been smoking since he was fifteen.

The physician gazed sympathetically at Luke, as if apologizing that Abe hadn’t told his own son what was wrong with him.

“He didn’t tell you.”

“I—I don’t get home much,” Luke said.

“Well, he needs to be hospitalized to clear up the virus, and I also recommend that he stay a few days longer for observation and tests.”

Luke shot from his chair, clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides as he paced the confined area. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he had emphysema.”

“I’m not surprised,” Julianna said. “He’s a proud man.”

“Well, that won’t help him one bit if he’s a proud dead man.”

The physician stood. The skin sagged beneath his eyes and Luke remembered the man had been ready to go home but had stayed to see his father.

“Emphysema gets worse, doesn’t it?” said Luke.

“True, but slowly. Depending on the outcome of the tests, he may have to use oxygen at some point, but with treatment, I’m sure he’ll be fine for a while. He’s a strong man.”

A tiny sense of relief seeped through him. “That he is.”

Dr. Martinez placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I suggest you go home and call him tomorrow. I’ve already talked to him about the tests and further evaluation, and he’s sleeping now. Don’t plan on taking him home for a few days.”

Before Luke and Julianna left the hospital, he peeked in on Abe and despite the oxygen tubes in his nose, he did seem to be sleeping peacefully.

“I’m so glad we took him in tonight,” Julianna said on the ride home. “That was a good call on your part.”

He looked at her. “I still can’t believe he never said a word about being sick.”

She arched one eyebrow. “Really. I think it’s typical Abe.”

“Yeah.” He hit the steering wheel with the butt of his hand. “But this is serious. People die from emphysema. Especially someone his age.”

After that they were silent, the only sound the hum of the tires against the asphalt. The night was cool and the stars shone brightly above them. As he drove, Luke thought about Abe and how he’d been going through all this health stuff alone.

His father had told Jules Luke stayed away because when he was a kid, he couldn’t accept authority and that somehow soured everything. Only that wasn’t the half of it. And dammit, his father knew that.

The past few years had separated them even more because Luke had been too stuck in his own quagmire to pay attention to anyone else.

Yeah, they had issues all right. But if his father had died leaving things as they were, he would never have forgiven himself. He made a silent vow to change things when his dad came home.

“You missed the turnoff, Luke.”

He screeched to a stop. It was late, there were no highway lights and theirs was the only vehicle on the lonely back road. If it weren’t for the headlights, all they’d see was an inky blackness. “Yeah, I did.” He turned the car around and sought out the road where he should’ve turned.

“I’m sorry about Abe,” Julianna said, her voice choking a little. “God, I was so scared…”

And he was a thoughtless ass…again. Jules loved his father and must be just as worried as he was. Probably more. He reached to place his hand over hers. “I know. I’m sorry for being so self-absorbed.”

“He’s your father, Luke. Your concern
should
be for him, not me.”

Yeah, just like the concern he’d had for Michael. Only he’d failed in his quest to find his son. Pain stabbed in his chest. Taking in some air, he forced his own torment away and squeezed her hand. He wanted to say thanks for being so understanding, but after another long silent stretch, all he could manage was, “I’m sorry….”

She looked over at him, eyes questioning.

“I’m sorry for being such a…bad husband…for being gone all the time—”

“Don’t, Luke. Don’t say any more. Please.”

Yeah. The time for apologies was years ago. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to listen to them now.