THE MISSING (L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Book 4) (5 page)

CHAPTER SIX

THAT NIGHT DURING a very late dinner, Luke told Julianna and Abe about his progress with the fence. “But there’s still more to do,” he said.

Luke didn’t ask why Abe’s hand was bandaged differently and Abe didn’t offer that they’d gone to the clinic. Julianna talked about the weather, of all things, simply because she wanted to get through the meal without any further references to why she was there.

So far, so good. She brought dessert to the table, a pie that she’d picked up at the grocery store after Abe had his hand stitched and had grudgingly submitted to a tetanus shot.

“Good pie,” Luke said after wolfing down a mouthful.

“Thanks to Sara Lee.”

“Pot roast was good, too.” Luke speared another bite of pie and brought it to his lips.

Her eyes fastened there, on his mouth, the little indentation in the middle of his top lip.

“I don’t remember you cooking much before.”

Maybe that was because he was never home at dinnertime. She and Mikey had eaten alone most nights. “I learned a thing or two when I had an exchange student living with me for a while. Actually the student was doing an internship at the magazine and somehow I ended up with her at my house.”

“You have a house?” Luke looked surprised.

“A loft condo. No upkeep, and someone else does all the fixing.”

He nodded. “Not a bad idea. At my place there’s always something going wrong.” His bluer-than-blue gaze caught hers. “But then, you know that.”

Her pulse quickened. Was he still living in his grandfather’s house? The house they’d shared?

“That’s why I didn’t want that place,” Abe grumbled. “Too much fixin’.”

Both she and Luke turned to Abe. Then Luke said, “And there isn’t here?”

“It’s different,” Abe grumped. “There’s memories here.”

Julianna sighed. There
were
memories—both here and at the house in Venice Beach. She couldn’t believe Luke was still living there.

“The ranch has memories of all kinds,” Luke said. “Some good, some not so good.”

Abe’s chair scraped on the tiles as he abruptly rose to his feet. “I need to feed the horses, and then it’s time for me to turn in.”

When Abe was gone, she carried some dishes to the sink. “The doctor gave your father a tetanus shot and put five stitches in the cut.” Luke was right behind her with the dessert plates. Close. She moved to the side to put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Good.” Luke scraped off a plate and handed it to her.

“He said Abe should come in for a checkup.”

Luke gave a dry laugh. “I don’t have to guess what the old coot’s response to that was, do I?”

“Right. But I think someone really needs to make sure he goes. He hasn’t seemed like himself since I got here.”

Luke leaned on the counter, watching as she finished up. Suddenly she got all sweaty, unnerved to have him so close. It seemed odd that they were talking about Abe as if they were still married.

“If you could work some of your magic to get him to agree, I’d be indebted,” he said.

The soft plea in his eyes touched her. She put the last cup into the dishwasher, added soap, pushed the button and started the machine. “I’ll see what I can do. But right now, I’ve got work to do.”

Luke’s gaze followed as Jules walked away. She’d seemed nervous—as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him. If he didn’t know better, he might think… But hell, she was probably worried that he was going to ask again why she was there. And truth was, if she hadn’t left, he would’ve.

Repeatedly asking the same question was one way to wear someone down. He did it with suspects all the time when he thought they weren’t being truthful. While Jules might not be lying, something was definitely wrong. She jumped out of her skin every time the phone rang.

Walking into the living room, he heard the kitchen door slap shut. His dad coming back inside. Abe had said he was going to bed, and though it seemed early for that, his father’d had a busy day what with the fence and the doctor and all. Unlike his dad, Luke’s exhaustion was more mental than physical.

As he reached the well-worn couch, its worst parts covered with a red-and-blue Southwestern serape blanket, he inhaled the familiar scent, a mixture of cigarettes, Old Spice and old man. He glanced around. Nothing had changed. Nothing in the house and nothing with Abe.

Coming here with the idea of smoothing out his relationship with his dad was obviously a bad idea. Abe was too set in his ways. More importantly, his dad didn’t give a rat’s ass about mending anything between them. And now, in addition to finding hired help, he had to get Abe in for a physical.

He couldn’t leave until he had those two things under his belt. Maybe finding Jules here was a good thing. She had a way with people…could get them to do things without them realizing it.

An image of Jules popped into his head. An image of how she looked today, not the one he’d carried for the past five years. She looked more mature, more comfortable in her own skin, and she was every bit as beautiful as he remembered. Just watching her had made his blood run hot through his veins…made him remember what it was like to feel something.

Something other than duty and responsibility.

And Jules was the last person he should be thinking about like that. He reached for a magazine.
The Achilles’ Heel.
What the hell. Reading might get his mind on something else. As he flipped it open, the title of feature article practically leaped off the page. “Missing.”

He read a couple paragraphs. Turned the page. What the—the story was about a little girl who’d been abducted fifteen years ago in Los Angeles. Renata Willis. He tossed the magazine on the pile and picked up another. Another story with the same theme, but a different child.

His chest tightened as if in a vice. A violent storm burst from the dark well inside him. He shuffled through the magazines. Geezus, how long had she been doing this? A sharp, heart-stabbing pain drove into his chest.

How could she!

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Luke had kept his distance from her all day, barely grunting when Julianna or his father asked a question. Would he like coffee? Grunt. Aren’t you going to have breakfast? At least that one had gotten a grumble that she thought was a “No thanks. Gotta get to work.”

He’d left immediately and, since he’d been gone all day, he had to have long since finished the fence. “He can’t still be working, can he?” she asked Abe as they finished up dinner. “It’s getting dark.”

“Luke can take care of himself.”

“I know he can, Abe. But for him to be gone so long, something could’ve happened. Aren’t you worried just a little? Curious maybe?”

“Nope. I learned a long time ago that Luke doesn’t need anyone to worry about him.” He glanced at her from under his brows. “And I think you seem more worried than necessary.”

Julianna stared at him in surprise. Abe never talked about anything personal. Never once had he mentioned the divorce. “I don’t know what you mean.”

As he smiled, the crevices in his face deepened and she saw a glint in his faded blue eyes. Eyes that reminded her vaguely of Luke’s. “You know what I mean.” He rose from the chair, raised his hands in the air. “But then I’m an old man and you probably think I don’t know what it’s like to be in love.”

She did a double take. “I…I’m not…there’s nothing—”

“It’s okay. No need to explain.”

Sheesh! What did Abe think? That she’d been pining away for Luke for five years?

~~~

JUST AS LUKE WAS finishing up the fence, he heard a noise behind him and turned to see Stella Hancock astride a pinto that looked as old as she was.

“Hello, Luke.”

He tipped his Stetson. “Mrs. Hancock.”

“How are you? It’s been a long time.”

Luke drew a breath, shifted his stance, feet apart, arms crossed. “I’m fine.” He didn’t ask how she was and instead said, “I’m surprised to see you out here. You ride out very often?”

She smiled and the fine wrinkles around her eyes fanned out. For a woman who’d spent most of her life on a ranch, she’d aged gracefully. Most ranch women were well weathered by the time they were forty.

“No, I came because I heard you were fixing the fence and I wanted to know how Abraham is doing.”

When he didn’t answer right away, she added, “I saw your wi—Julianna at the grocery store yesterday. She told me your father had hurt his hand.”

Luke looked away. Jules had met the Hancock woman once when they’d come to visit when they were first married, and she’d been impressed that Stella had run her own ranch after her husband passed away. Luke didn’t think it was a big deal, not when you had her money. She might run the place, but other people did the work.

Coughing, Luke grated out, “He had a couple stitches, that’s all.”

“The last time I saw him in town he didn’t look well.”

He ground his teeth. Why the hell was he even talking to this woman about his father, this woman who’d— Luke stared at her, willing her to get the drift and go away. “I’ll take care of whatever is bothering my father.”

She winced, but quickly recovered, then said, “That’s good to hear. He needs someone right now.” Then she pulled on the reins, made a clicking sound and galloped away.

What the devil did she know what his father did or didn’t need? As far as Luke knew, Stella Hancock and his father hadn’t had any contact for years. Maybe he was wrong?

Climbing onto Balboa again, he took a minute to survey the land, a vast span of nature at its best. Just east of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the landscape was made up of rolling hills and piñon pine. Mountains and streams surrounded the valley and as a kid, he’d always thought he lived in a magical place, a utopian paradise. Yeah. What did he know?

His mother had loved it here and he remembered riding with her often, to picnic or fish or just to soak up the scenery. The land reminded Luke of his mom. Beautiful in its simplicity, yet strong enough to withstand the elements.

In the end, cancer had taken her, but only after ravaging her once strong body, letting her know that no one, not even a young, vibrant mother, had complete control over our lives. But she’d seemed at peace with herself. Unlike him, her faith had held her in good stead. He’d gone the other way, damning whatever forces had taken her from him so soon. And then later, took Michael. And Julianna. If there was a God, he wasn’t doing his job.

No, he didn’t have the kind of faith his mother had. Why should he?

He touched Balboa’s side with his heel, but the stallion wasn’t in any hurry to return. The horse probably didn’t get enough exercise with only Abe to take care of things, so Luke took the long way back to give the stallion a workout and on the way, he stopped at a shallow creek to let Balboa drink. He dismounted, surveyed the vast expanse of land. Except for the burbling sounds of crisp clean water over the smooth rocks, it was so quiet he could hear himself breathe.

Balboa suddenly rose up and whinnied. “What? What’s wrong, boy?” The horse snorted and jerked away, spooked. “It’s okay,” Luke soothed, stroking the animal’s neck and scanning the area to see what had scared him. “It’s okay, big guy.”

As he took in the property on the other side of the creek, on the hill, he spotted an animal on the ground. Very still. “It’s okay,” Luke reassured his mount and stroked him again. He tethered the horse to a tree and made his way across the creek, rock by rock.

It was a calf. But what was it doing out here alone? Was it sick? A few more steps and he knew the animal was dead. He didn’t want to get too close, but he had to know what had happened. As he moved closer, he saw a pool of blood under the animal’s head. The calf’s throat had been cut.

He swung around and simultaneously reached for his police weapon. Only he wasn’t carrying. He chuckled. He was standing in the middle of a pasture with a dead calf and he’d reacted like he’d been ambushed by the Mob.

Maybe the captain was right, his nerves were shot and he needed the vacation more than he realized. Even though he’d covered numerous crime scenes, the coppery smell of blood, the rotting scent of death turned his stomach. He gaged and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. He never got used it…the sights or the smells. People who thought police were immune to gruesome scenes were either misinformed or stupid.

He rode Balboa back to the ranch at a gallop and twenty minutes later, after unsaddling the stallion and brushing him down, he walked into the kitchen. It was quiet, so he headed down the hall and tapped on Abe’s door. “It’s Luke, Dad. I need to talk to you.” Without waiting for an answer Luke opened the door.

“What’s wrong?” Abe was sitting in his favorite chair. On the table next to him was a photo of Luke’s mother. The room reeked of stale tobacco, even though Julianna had persuaded Abe long ago to quit smoking in the house. She hadn’t wanted their son, Michael, exposed to secondhand smoke.

Luke pulled an old oak chair up next to his father’s and turned on the lamp. “Sitting in the dark for a reason?”

“You get the fence fixed?” his father asked.

“Yep. I did. But I came across a dead calf on the way home. Down by the creek.”

“Dead?”

“As a doornail.”

“One of mine?”

Luke nodded. “Had your brand. And…it looked like its throat had been slit.”

Abe drew back, his face turning red as he glowered at Luke.

“Any ideas?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. Get me my gun.”

“No, I mean any ideas who might’ve done this?”

His father shifted in the chair. “Someone who doesn’t like me, I guess.”

Well, that took in half of San Miguel County. “Anyone in particular?”

Abe shook his head. “Could be kids. Teenagers thinking it’s fun to wreck people’s property.”

“This isn’t just property, Dad. That calf was a living animal, part of your stock. It’s more than vandalism. It’s animal cruelty.”

Abe took a moment, then said, “I’ll take care of it.”

Luke crossed his arms. “How?”

When Abe clammed up, Luke bolted to his feet. “I’m going to call the sheriff,” he said, turning to leave.

Before Luke got out the door, Abe said, “I said I’d take care of it. I don’t want you calling anyone.”

His father could be so damned bullheaded sometimes. But maybe it was kids out raising hell. Instead of doping up on meth or heroin as some teens did in L.A., the youngsters here found their fun in other ways.

When he’d lived here, there wasn’t anything like this going on. A little vandalism maybe, but nothing so sick. No, whoever had done this had a twisted mind…and no respect for life.

Luke strode into the living room and looked up the sheriff’s number. He didn’t care if Abe wanted him to call or not. The dispatcher answered, then said the sheriff was out, but he’d be there as soon as he could. Two hours later, Ben Yuma was at the door.

“Twice in one week,” Yuma said. “Nothing serious I hope.”

“I think it is, but if you ask my dad, you’ll get a different answer.” Luke went back to tell Abe the sheriff had arrived, but his dad was asleep in front of the TV. Odd. Luke turned off the TV, then filled in the sheriff on what had happened.

“So,” Luke said. “You know the area, the locals and their crimes, do you have any idea what’s going on here?”

“None yet. I’ll have to take a trip out there. There have been similar incidents on other properties. Some ranchers think they’re connected to the corporation that’s trying to buy up the land around here to build a spa resort.”

Abe hadn’t mentioned anything about that.

“Others say it’s kids. Rich kids with nothing better to do.”

“Rich kids? When I went to school here, most ranch kids had to scrape by.”

“There’s been a big real estate boom in the past few years, spreading out from Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Condos, planned communities, people with money.”

“Whoever did this, rich or poor, they’ve got some real problems.”

“True,” Yuma agreed. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to take a look.”

When the sheriff left, Luke headed for Julianna’s room.