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

by Linda Style

  “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.

  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?