Read THE MISSING (L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Book 4) Online
Authors: LINDA STYLE
THE PLANE HIT the runway at seven-thirty the next morning, and they were on the road to the hospital in Santa Fe within a half hour. Julianna glanced out the window at the foreboding sky. The weather gurus had predicted rain and Luke had said he wanted to get his father and head back to the ranch before the highways got slick.
The narrow roads between Santa Fe and the ranch were treacherous when wet, she knew and even now, Luke seemed to be concentrating heavily on his driving. Or was he figuring out another strategy?
“I’ve been thinking,” Julianna said.
“Uh-oh. That means trouble.” Luke kept his eyes riveted on the road.
He seemed in a good mood despite the fact that he’d spent the night sitting in a chair at the foot of her bed, his weapon at his side. Every time she’d awakened and looked at him, he’d been alert. Poor guy probably hadn’t slept but a few minutes. But then, she hadn’t either. It was amazing they hadn’t snapped at each other more often when hurrying for the flight.
Always in the back of her mind was the knowledge that Luke was only there to make sure nothing happened to her. He’d given his word and she knew he’d try to keep it no matter what. If his father hadn’t needed him, Luke would’ve split the same night he’d arrived at the ranch. A night that seemed so very long ago and yet was little more than a week.
“I have an idea. I’ve thought this over for most of the night and this morning. I want to run it by you.” The lightness in her voice belied what she was about to say.
“O-kay. I’m listening.”
Hesitant, she nipped at the soft skin on the inside of her lower lip. He was going to think she was crazy, but then that wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d ever thought about her. “I have a plan to entrap the stalker.”
Luke jerked so fast to look at her, he swerved over the center line. Fortunately, there were no other cars on the road and he quickly corrected the maneuver. “Excuse me?” he said incredulously.
“I have a plan that I think will work to catch this creep.”
The sound that came from Luke was half laugh and half hysterical gurgle. “The LAPD is trying to find him. I have the best guys in the field working on it as we speak.
We
have a plan.”
“Mine is better.”
She saw his grip tighten on the wheel. Then he cleared his throat and said, “What’s better than the LAPD?”
“Using me as bait.”
He stomped the brake and skidded to a screeching halt and at the same time, his arm flew out and whapped her across the chest to keep her from smashing into the windshield. Gravel crunched under the tires as he pulled off onto the shoulder and then killed the engine.
Before Luke had a chance to get a word out, and she knew what those words would be—nutcase, insane—she said, “Please listen to me. Don’t shoot me down before you even hear what I have to say. I’m not some whack job with a flaky idea. Someone is threatening me. It’s my life. I’m involved, just about as involved as anyone can be. And I think I know a way to get this guy.”
Luke shook his head. “It’s a complicated case.”
“That’s the problem. I’m not talking about the Willis case. I’m talking about this psycho, this sicko who’s driving me crazy.
You’re
making it more complicated than necessary.”
“What? By following procedure?”
“Yes. We both know how that can screw things up.” She’d had no intention to throw their past into it, but if it made him understand… “I think I know how to lure him out. If he intends to hurt me as he’s threatened to do, why shouldn’t we be prepared? Why shouldn’t we be proactive and get him on our terms, not his?”
Luke clamped his lips together, turned the key in the ignition and started the car again. Looking both ways, he pulled back onto the highway.
“At least listen to me.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever come up with. For crying out loud, Jules. He could be a serial killer.”
“He probably is. All the more reason to entrap him.”
“I don’t want to hear any more about this. You’re naive if you think this is some kind of game. And I’d lose my job if I agreed to do anything like that.”
His job.
Always his job. Years of suppressed anger threatened to erupt. Only she couldn’t let it. “Naive or not, I can’t sleep at night wondering when he’s going to pop out of the woodwork. I can’t sleep knowing that if he is the one who killed Renata Willis, he’s probably killed again since then. He might even be the one who—” The rest of the sentence strangled in her throat.
She closed her eyes. Waited for a moment, then looked at Luke. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed the similarities.”
His hands clenched so tight on the wheel, his knuckles went white. She saw a muscle working in his jaw, the way it always did when he tried to suppress his anger.
“That’s just it,” he finally spat out. “The similarity isn’t just in these two cases. There are other crimes as well. This could be big. Really big. And if we get any evidence and don’t follow procedure, none of it will be admissible.”
“It will be if you listen to my plan.”
Luke’s face went red, and he started to say something, but a hospital sign appeared on the left side of the road and he swerved to make the turn. A few minutes later, he pulled into the visitor’s parking lot. “I’m going to get my father discharged. You’ll have to come with me.”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t
have
to do anything.”
If looks could kill, she’d be dead. But she had the edge. He wouldn’t leave her in the car alone and unprotected. His training wouldn’t allow it. “I’ll come with you if you promise to listen to my plan later.” She smiled, a gesture she knew would make him even more furious with her. But sometimes pushing him to the limit was what it took to make him see that his way wasn’t the only way.
He continued to glare at her. Then finally managed, “Okay. Now get out of the damned car.”
Luke sauntered over, his nerves still taut from his conversation with Jules. Now he had to deal with his father, too. “You look great, Pops.”
Dr. Martinez came into the room. “I haven’t discharged you yet, Abraham.”
“Well, do it, then. I’ve been ready to go for days.”
The doc walked over, placed his stethoscope on Abe’s chest. “Take a big breath and let it out. “Good.” He placed the instrument on Abe’s back and repeated the procedure. “Okay, young man. I’m going to give you a couple of prescriptions and I want you to take all the medications as prescribed. Don’t stop just because you’re feeling better.”
The physician kept shooting glances at Luke as he talked, apparently thinking Luke could monitor his father. Man, was he wrong.
Jules, who’d gone to the ladies’ room, walked in and went over to the bed. “You look fantastic, Pops. How do you feel?”
His old man harrumphed loudly. “I feel the same as I did when I came here.”
Jules kissed Abe on the cheek, then stepped back. “Maybe. But you didn’t look as good when we brought you in.”
“Does he have restrictions of any kind?” Luke went to help his father off the bed, but Abe shrugged him off.
“No restrictions. He just needs to quit smoking and take the medication.”
“Hear that,” Luke said to his father, for all the good it would do. Abe did what he wanted when he wanted. Luke was surprised he’d actually stayed in the hospital.
“Okay. You’re ready,” the physician said. “You take care of yourself, Abraham.”
As the doctor walked out, Abe slipped off the bed and carefully put his weight on first one leg and then the other.
“Who are the flowers from, Pops?” Julianna walked over to the table by the bed and smelled the purple-and-yellow bouquet. “They’re beautiful.”
Abe waved a hand in dismissal. “I don’t know. I don’t like flowers. The smell gives me a headache.”
“So why’d you leave them in the room?” Luke asked, then picked up the tiny card stuck in the middle of the arrangement and read,
GET BETTER
.
S.H.
Gritting his teeth, he tossed it into the wastebasket next to the bed.
“Let’s go,” Abe insisted. “I’ve had enough of this place. The food is bad and the room is always cold.”
“What about the flowers? Let’s take them along.” Jules picked up the vase.
“He doesn’t want them. Leave them here,” Luke snapped as he followed his father out the door. When she caught up, Jules was carrying the flowers, and her expression dared him to say a word about it.
Silence filled the car on the ride from the hospital to the ranch. Luke’s mind spun trying to sort out everything that had happened. He’d gotten a lead on the Willis case that could be big. Or it could be nothing. One thing was certain, it was more than they’d had before.
He had no clue if this Thatcher guy was in any way connected to the threats Jules had received. But if he was their serial killer and they screwed up…
And Jules had a plan. He almost laughed. The woman was insane. Or she had some killer cojones.
As if she knew what he was thinking, Jules reached out and turned on the radio to a soft jazz station. Her favorite kind of music. He remembered how she’d liked to soak in a tub of bubbles with a good book and listen to jazz playing in the background.
His groin tightened. He’d never been able to resist a naked woman in a tub of bubbles. But he wasn’t going to let memories or good sex cloud his judgment.
What Jules had said about the similarities between the Willis case and Michael’s triggered every bitter, vengeful emotion he’d experienced five years ago. Feelings a cop couldn’t afford to have. But if this guy was one and the same, and they could somehow get him…
Adrenaline shot through his bloodstream like an injection of speed.
But as he turned onto the road to the ranch, his sanity returned. He couldn’t allow Julianna to act as bait to lure the guy in. He absolutely couldn’t. Even if it meant catching Michael’s killer. He’d already lost the two people he’d loved most in life. But at least one was still alive. There was nothing Jules could possibly say that would convince him to do anything that would put her life in danger. Nothing.
“THE FLOWERS CAME from Stella,” Julianna said after Abe had gone to bed for the night. “Her initials were on the card.”
Luke shrugged, then picked up the remote and clicked on the television, surfing channels until he landed on CNN.
It was 9:00 p.m., time for her to start working, but talking to Luke had to come first, as difficult as she knew that would be. They’d had no time before now because Luke had been on the phone most of the morning. First he’d talked with Jordan and Rico, and then with some people who’d called about the job at the ranch.
He’d had one guy come out to see him, but Abe had made such a big stink, the man had all but left a streak on the road in his hurry to escape. Luke and Abe had argued and finally Luke stalked out. He was gone for the rest of the day and had come back only a few minutes ago.
Julianna went over and sat next to him on the couch. “So, if you don’t want to talk about Stella and your father, let’s talk about my plan.”
He pressed the Up arrow for the volume on the remote and the newscaster’s voice blared. She snatched the remote from him and hit the power button. Luke’s eyes widened.
“I said I want to talk. You agreed.”
He turned back to the blank television screen. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I think there is and for once in your life I want you to listen to me.”
His head practically spun around to look at her. “For once in my life?”
“Yes. I think my idea is a good one. I wrote something in the article that might force the issue.”
Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he rubbed his temples. Took a deep breath. Finally, he asked, “What did you write?”
“This guy thinks he’s smart and can outwit the police, so I insulted his intelligence. I intimated that he’d already slipped up and that it was only a matter of time before he was caught.” She cleared her throat. Luke wasn’t going to like the next part, so she had to hurry through it to finish. “So, the next time he calls, I’ll egg him on some more, tell him I think he’s a crank caller, all talk and no action. I’ll play on his vanity. I already told him I didn’t believe he knew where I was and it seemed to tick him off. If he really does know, that’s where my plan comes in. We give him the opportunity to prove it.”
Luke’s eyes lit up. “How so?”
His question wasn’t much, but at least he hadn’t gotten up and left the room. “I do something predictable on a regular basis, like feeding the chickens or going out alone to the stable to tend the horses every day at a certain time. If he is watching as he says he is, he may do something.”
“Like kill you.”
“No. I’ll be protected. I’ll wear a wire every time I go to the stable. You’ll be nearby and hear everything that goes on. And I’ll carry a gun.”
“You hate guns.”
“I know. But this is different. I’ll use it if I need to.”
“The last I heard you didn’t have a clue how to handle a weapon of any kind. Except to hit a guy over the head for no reason.”
She stifled a grin. “You can teach me.”
Almost before she got out the words, Luke pitched back on the couch laughing. “A gun-toting pacifist. That’s a picture.”
She had to admit, it was the last thing she’d ever have imagined doing. But some things called for change. She waited until he calmed down, then said, “I’m serious. Dead serious. And if you don’t want to help me, I’ll find someone else who can.”
Luke sucked in some air. “Who? My father?” His frown deepened. “Which brings up another issue. How does he fit into your
plan?
Endangering other people’s lives because you have a mission is ridiculous.”
“Hearing you talk about me like I don’t have a mind of my own is what’s ridiculous.” Abe’s voice came from the doorway. “If I can do something to help, I will.”
“And how long have you been standing there?” Luke snorted. “Do you always listen to other people’s conversations?”
“Only when I hear my name mentioned.” He came in and sat in his worn leather lounger. He seemed to be moving around a little easier.
“Well, I’m not putting either of your lives in danger and that’s that.”
Julianna looked from Luke to Abe. “I don’t know about you, Abe, but I don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything.”
Abe laughed. “Ain’t needed permission for more years than you’ve been alive, sweetheart.”
Luke’s face reddened. “You’re both crazy.”
“Crazy enough to want to see a killer go to jail,” Julianna said. “And I can’t believe you don’t feel the same way.”
Luke bolted to his feet, blood thundering in his ears. Yeah, he felt that way. With every fiber in his being he felt that way. But it wasn’t enough to make him want to put Jules and his father within a killer’s reach.
“If he’s going to come anyway, why not be prepared,” Jules said.
“Because we don’t know he’s going to do anything. Neither of you have my experience. You need to listen to me. This isn’t some action movie where you can take things into your own hands and the bad guys always lose. You’d be risking your lives. Someone, one or both of you…or all of us, for that matter, could get killed. And even if you two don’t care about that, I do.” His blood still at boiling point, he took a deep breath and stalked from the room.
Heading for his bedroom, every muscle in Luke’s body burned with rage. How could Jules be so unrealistic? So stupid. And his father. He was a sick old man who couldn’t even take care of his ranch. What could he do to help?
Three hours later he was still awake, his mind whirling like a blender on high speed. But the more he thought, the more Jules’s stupid idea seemed to make sense.
And he was an idiot. A delusional, sleep-deprived idiot. He rolled from the bed and walked down the hall to get a glass of milk. Passing the den, he saw a soft glow of light radiating from under the door. Jules was still up…probably writing. Getting herself into more trouble.
If only he could talk some sense into her. He paused by the door, then remembered that talking to Jules when she had her mind set was like talking to a statue. He went to the kitchen and on his way back with his milk, he turned and headed for the living room.
He dropped into his father’s chair and flicked on the floor lamp next to it. He glanced at the magazines in the basket. Several copies of
The Achilles’ Heel
were on top. He reached, then drew his hand back. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to read about abducted children. He didn’t want to read about Michael.
He didn’t want to…but he had to.
He picked up the stack and went through each magazine, searching for the first article Jules had written. The one about their son.
As he flipped through the magazines, he noted that “The Missing” was the name for the whole series, but each story had another title of its own. Usually it included the name of the child. When he came across one that was called “Michael’s Story: with love, from his mother.” Luke’s heart lurched. She’d used a fictitious last name, but not the first. He started reading and noticed immediately that the story was told in a different way from the others he’d glanced at. It was in the first person.
By the time he’d finished reading three pages, his heart was about to crack. Jules told of Michael’s abduction from the first moment she’d noticed him gone, describing her panic, disbelief and fear in moment-by-moment detail.
[
I couldn’t believe he was gone. I wouldn’t believe it. I kept telling myself he had to be hiding, or playing a game.]
As one realization after another hit Luke, his heart ached for Jules. She’d been alone. He hadn’t been there for her. When she’d told him her feelings, he’d said he understood, but had he really? She’d said he couldn’t possibly know what it was like to be responsible for losing their son. How many times had she told him that? How many times had he told her it wasn’t her fault, and that it could happen to anyone. He’d seen it in his job more than once.
But this was their son, she’d said. She wasn’t just anyone. She was his mother.
[With every second that passed, with every negative reply from the department-store manager, panic clawed at my insides. But I had to stay in control. I had to find my son. I called 9-1-1 and continued calling out, “Mikey, Mikey.” I kept calling and calling. The security guards came. Someone else phoned the police. When I finally realized that Michael, my four-year-old son, my only child, wasn’t in the store at all, a bone-chilling fear ratcheted through me. A kind of fear I could never before have imagined.
I ran out the door to search every inch of the mall, but the corridors seemed like tentacles reaching out in all directions. Oh, God. What should I do? If I left and Mikey came back, I could miss him. But I had to look. I ran…searching, calling out his name in every shop, asking everyone if they’d seen him, store clerks and people doing their shopping, people sitting on benches, eating at the food court. “Have you seen a little boy in a red shirt and blue shorts? Did a boy wearing a Dodgers’ baseball cap come by here? Please won’t someone help me look for him?” Somewhere in my purse I found a photo and went back again, tears streaming, covering the same walkways, the same shops, asking the same questions of the same people and showing the photo]
.
Luke’s gut knotted. His throat cramped. A tear fell onto the page and then another. He could feel Jules’s panic as if it were his own, her pain, her guilt, he felt it all. And by the time he read the last paragraph, tears flowed like rivers down his cheeks.
[
I see Michael every day in my fantasies—and at night in my dreams—and in the eyes of all the children I meet. I still search for the person who took my little boy away. I will always search. I have nightmares about what he did to my child, and I won’t give up until he’s behind bars. Not a day goes by that I don’t blame myself. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my little Michael and wish it had been me instead.]
Luke’s chest spasmed, his grief for their loss, his pain for Jules so intense, he couldn’t stop the inconsolable sobs that wrenched from within.