THE MISSING (L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Book 4) (6 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE KNOCK on her bedroom door made Julianna jump. She checked her watch. 10:00 p.m. It wouldn’t be Abe, and that left only one other person. “Hold on,” she said, “I’ll be there in a minute.” She saved the story on her laptop, closed the cover and went to the door, opening it a few inches. Luke stood with one arm resting on the door frame.

“We need to talk,” he said.

Her heart thumped. “What about?”

“Abe.”

She expelled a silent sigh of relief. “Okay. Just give me a minute.”

“Sure. I’ll be on the patio.”

He’d always liked the outdoors, the fresh air, at the beach or wherever. Closing the door, she quickly threw on the pink zip sweatshirt that matched her sweatpants, and then slipped on her flip-flops. She took a quick peek in the mirror. Plain. She’d always been plain. Nothing like her classy sister. She ran a comb through her hair, then dabbed on a bit of lip gloss before realizing the futility. What did she think? That the gloss would somehow transform her into something she wasn’t. Dammit, she’d come to grips with her self-image a long time ago. So why were the old insecurities resurfacing now? What the hell, she dabbed on some blush, too, and then headed down the hall.

At the back door she saw Luke sitting outside on a bench. She stopped to look at him. So handsome, so…masculine. Instantly, she remembered how she’d felt being the other half of the couple people whispered about and said, “What is he doing with
her?
” She’d always wanted to feel his equal, like they belonged together. She’d tried hard, but it never quite came together for her.

But when she and Luke were alone, he always made her feel beautiful, as if he saw something in her that others didn’t. Something even
she
didn’t see. She realized later it had been easy to forgive a lot in their marriage because of those stupid insecurities.

The door creaked as she went out. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, then indicated the place next to him on the bench. He wore jeans and a black sweatshirt and was sitting near the beehive-shaped
chiminea
in the corner. A crackling fire radiated warmth and the pungent scent of cedar, instantly conjured memories of better times. The first time she’d met Luke’s dad. The Christmas they’d spent here when she was pregnant. Memories she didn’t have time for anymore. Luke wanted to talk and that’s what she was going to do.

But as she lowered herself to sit next to him, she sensed something was wrong. “What’s up with Abe?”

“That’s what I want to know. Has he said anything to you about problems on the ranch?”

She shook her head. “No, but he did say he thinks Mrs. Hancock wants him to sell his property.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, as if she’d hit a nerve. “Sheriff Yuma was here a little while ago and mentioned something about a corporation trying to buy up land for a spa resort.”

“Do you think someone approached Abe about it? And maybe Mrs. Hancock, too?”

“Could be.”

“If she comes by again, I’ll ask her.”

“No need. Pops wouldn’t sell to anyone for any amount of money.”

“So, why was the sheriff here again?”

“I called him because when I was out on the line, I found a dead calf.”

“Oh, that’s awful. But why call the sheriff?”

“The calf’s throat was slit.”

“Oh, my, God.” Goose bumps rose on her arms. Had the caller found her and was this a warning? “What did the sheriff say about it?” There’s no way anyone could possibly know where she was. With help from Patrick, the private investigator she used as a resource, she’d effectively disappeared. Except for calling her editor once a week, she had no contact with anyone else.

“The sheriff said there’s been some vandalism at other ranches and they suspect some high school kids may be involved.”

She let out a relieved sigh. That made more sense. “But killing a helpless animal? That’s sick.”

“I know. Sociopaths are sick. And they start young. Usually with small animals.”

The thought made her shiver. She knew a lot about the pathology. She’d been studying it for five years. She rubbed her arms. “Does Abe know?”

“I talked to him before calling the sheriff.”

“How’s he feeling?”

Luke shrugged. “With him, you never know.”

“I do. I can tell when something bothers him. It’s subtle, but noticeable. I see it every time he talks to you.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve been bothering him since I was thirteen. That’s nothing new.”

“What I mean is that I can see it bothers him that you two don’t get along.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “You take up psychiatry somewhere along the line?”

She grinned. “I have learned a few things in that area, but no, my knowledge of your father is based on years of watching how he reacts when you say something that hurts him.”

“I don’t say things to hurt him.”

“Not intentionally, but some of the things you say, do hurt him.”

“Well, I’m not going to debate your sixth sense when it comes to my dad. And I’m not going to monitor my words either. He and I have never understood each other and we probably never will.”

“So, why are you staying? I thought you were leaving as soon as you could.”

Wearily, he leaned against the post behind him so he was facing her. “Things changed.”

“Like?”

“One…my dad seems…not himself. Two, I need to find him some hired help, and three, the dead calf. I wouldn’t feel right about leaving until those things are resolved.” His gaze narrowed as he turned to look at her. “I’d also like to know why you’re really here,” he said softly. Teasingly.

There it was again. The question that wouldn’t go away. She cleared her throat. “When I talked to your dad before I decided to come, he sounded a little flat, depressed almost. I thought maybe my visit would cheer him up.” That part was true. Abe needed someone, if even just another person in the house. He was alone too much.

“Getting help for your father would be wonderful. And it would give him someone to talk to. It has to be hard being alone all the time.”

“You’d think. But that’s the life he’s chosen. He doesn’t like too many people.” Luke grinned, then touched the sleeve of her shirt. “Except for you.”

Julianna’s heart warmed at the comment. “He’s been the father I never had. Even though I haven’t seen him too often, we’ve stayed in touch.”

Leaning back on one elbow, Luke rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. By the end of the day he always had more than a five o’clock shadow. “I didn’t know that,” he said, his voice still low, reflective almost.

She shrugged. “No reason you would.”

“Well, like I said, there are things I have to do before I go.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do about the calf other than let the sheriff handle it. If it is vandals, he’ll do something about it.”

“But there have been other incidents, so I’d like to know what he’s doing about it before I go.”

She looked down. “So, when
are
you leaving?”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, eh.”

She laughed, feeling her cheeks flush. “You found me out.”

Luke’s expression softened. “I always liked the way you laugh.”

He’d never told her that before. Hearing it now made her more self-conscious than anything. Sitting here with Luke was a dangerous place to be. She looked away. “I didn’t do that very often during the last part of our marriage, did I?” Their last couple of years together had been so bitter, so filled with pain.

“No. But you had good reason.” He reached out for her.

Even though his touch was tender, her muscles tensed and she launched to her feet. “I…I need to go in. I still have work to do.”

He stood almost at the same time, then stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her way. “What’s the rush?”

She placed one hand on her hip, hoping she looked cool and calm. “You heard me. I have work to do.”

“Really?” His voice seemed lower, huskier. He stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

Her blood rushed. “Yes, really.”

“You look like you need to relax.”

Her heart thumped so hard she was certain he could hear it. “Nighttime is when I work best. Besides, I have a deadline to meet.”

He frowned, his mouth forming words that didn’t come out, as if maybe they were too difficult to say. “What?” she asked.

“I’m still wondering―” He squared his shoulders. “―why you left me.”

Oh, God.
Her throat constricted. “Luke. Don’t. Please.” When he just stood there, she said, “You…you know why.”

“But that’s just it. I don’t. I know what you said when you left, but I know there was more to it. And it’s been eating at me for five years.”

Her voice was barely a whisper when she said, “I can’t get into all that again, Luke. I just can’t.”

“Was it me? I couldn’t blame you there.”

Her head came up. “Oh, no. God, no. It wasn’t you, Luke. I promise.” His drinking hadn’t helped, but that wasn’t it at all. She rested an assuring hand on his arm.

He looked at her hand, then placed his other one over hers.

Tears welled, but just as quickly she pushed them back. She’d gone through therapy, learned how to live with her grief over losing Michael, thought she’d learned how to live with the breakup of their marriage. So why was she such an emotional mess?

Finally, she managed, “I can’t do this, Luke. I’ve moved on. I hoped you had, too.” She pulled herself up to her full five feet six inches. “Now please let me go.”

He snapped his hand back as if he’d suddenly touched a branding iron. She tore herself away, tears burning behind her eyelids as she walked inside, trying desperately to hold herself together. Trying desperately not to turn around and rush into his arms.

LUKE WATCHED Jules walk away, his jaw clenched, his fists kneading his thighs. If it wasn’t him, then what the hell was it?

People who loved each other were supposed to stand united and support each other when bad times came. People who loved each other didn’t run away and destroy everything good that they’d built together. Maybe she’d never loved him. Maybe the wonderful relationship he’d thought they had was a bunch of garbage. He’d convinced himself of that more than once.

And now, seeing the pain in her eyes as she ran inside to escape him made him want to slither away like the snake that he was. He’d brought up things that hurt her. Damn. He banged the wood railing with the flat of his palm. He was like a fox in a chicken coop, tearing things apart because
he
wanted something. Because
he
needed to know. God, he was a jerk.

He stomped inside and on the way to his room hesitated outside her door. He wanted to say he was sorry for hurting her. But the hurt was already there. Sorry didn’t change anything.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d apologize. Tell her he’d never bring it up again. Then he had to get outta here. Go back to work. Work was what he did best.

In his room, he punched in his partner’s cell number. “Yo,” he said when Jordan answered. “What’s happening?”

“That’s what I was wondering. When are you coming back? I’ve got a good lead on the Renfield case.”

Luke’s pulse quickened. “Does Carlyle know? He didn’t want me on it until after the election.”

“No. But I’m not doing anything to stir the pot as far as Thorpe’s concerned.”

“How good is the lead?”

“It’s hot. I tracked down an old friend who’d heard Thorpe threaten to kill Michele Renfield.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Betsy Stephens. Renfield’s former college roommate.”

“So why haven’t we heard about her before?”

“She said she was questioned once right after Renfield disappeared but nothing ever came of it. And in the back of her mind was the thought, if her friend disappeared, so could she.”

“So, what changed?”

“She said she was cleaning out some of Michele’s things and found something a photo she thought was important.”

“A photo?”

“An ultrasound photo.”

“Renfield was pregnant?”
With Thorpe’s kid?
Luke’s nerves vibrated. All his instincts had said Thorpe was guilty as hell and Luke wanted to nail him so bad he could taste it. He hated politicians…or anyone…who thought they were above the law. Now, with the photo, they had motive and if they could get this girl’s testimony… Damn. He had to get back to L.A. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. It’s a full day’s drive and I have to clear up some things here first.”

“So how’s it been?” Jordan asked.

“My dad needs help. I’m going to hire someone before I leave.” Then he’d plead with Jules to get his father to a doctor. And she’d be overjoyed that he was leaving.

“That’s good. But I meant how are you managing with Julianna in the same house?”

Luke rubbed the stubble on his chin. “No big deal. The past is in the past.”

There was a hesitation on the line before Jordan said, “Yeah? So that’s what you tell yourself.”

Luke gripped the phone tighter. His partner didn’t know shit. Not when it came to relationships. “Yes, it is. But I fully understand your thinking. You have this pie-in-the sky philosophy that love conquers all, and because you’re about to be married, you can’t understand why everyone doesn’t feel the same way. But take my word for it, in my case, love doesn’t conquer anything. The past
is
in the past. It’s done. Kaput.
Finito
.”

Jordan coughed as if choking on what Luke had said. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

“I’ll call you when I get close to home.”

When he was finished with the call, Luke stripped off his clothes and headed for bed. Dammit. The past
was
in the past. Except he kept seeing how pretty Jules had looked when she came out and sat beside him tonight. She’d smelled clean and fresh and he longed to feel her in his arms again, to be as close as they’d once been.

The fat yellow moon and the brilliance of the stars had reminded him of all the other times they’d sat together simply enjoying the night.

Times he needed to forget.
Done. Kaput. Finito.