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

by Linda Style

  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.

  CHAPTER NINE

  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.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Julianna was taking a break from her research and making lemonade when she heard a noise outside. After taking the sheriff out to see the dead animal this morning, Luke and Abe had disposed of the carcass and then spent the rest of the morning working around the place. Though Abe had come in earlier, Luke was still in the barn.

  Last night after she’d gone to bed, she stayed awake for hours, her emotions warring with her needs. She wanted desperately to go to Luke and explain, but going to his room wouldn’t end well. She knew that as well as she know what was on Luke’s mind every time he looked at her.

  Even now, just thinking about it sent a twinge low in her belly. She hadn’t been with a man for six months, at least. Not since her one attempt at a relationship—post-Luke—fell apart. And right now, her hormones were on high alert. Getting too close to Luke would be dangerous. In oh, so many ways.

  Luke was comfortable. She knew him, knew how to please him. He knew how to please her. But to do that would be misleading. He’d think it meant more, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Because nothing would change.

  Luke was probably staying outside so he wouldn’t have to see her again. She couldn’t blame him. Every time he’d tried to talk to her she’d cut him off.

  She poured the lemonade into a large thermal container, placed some cookies she’d made into a Ziploc bag and headed for the barn. Luke was inside, replacing the hinges on the side door and didn’t move or turn when she came in. Wearing jeans, a blue denim shirt and his Stetson, he looked the typical rancher. A far cry from the perfectly groomed, designer-suited detective she’d once been married to.

  She knocked on a wooden box, and when he looked up, she said, “I made some lemonade.” Putting both the cookies and the container on the box, she motioned for him to come over and get some. Then she’d get the hell out of there.

  Looking at her, Luke gave her a questioning frown, untied the bandana around his neck and wiped off his forehead. “Great. Thanks. It’s hot in here.”

  “But it’s nice outside.” A crisp fall day and the sun was shining. She handed him a glass and saw his hands were covered with tiny cuts.

  “Where’s Abe?” Luke asked.

  “Taking a nap.”

  “Good. While he’s asleep I can call a few people I know and see if they can recommend anyone who might be looking for a ranch hand job. I also put a help wanted ad in the local paper.”

  Luke took a cookie, and then after another swig of his lemonade, said matter-of-factly, “I’m sorry about last night. I was out of line.”

  She glanced away. He shouldn’t be apologizing. She was the one who’d fled. She was the one who couldn’t explain herself. An irony that hadn’t escaped her. A writer who couldn’t express herself. How sad was that? But then the only time she had the problem was when she was with Luke. “It’s okay. Let’s just leave it alone. Okay.”

  His gaze caught hers again. “Deal. If I can hire someone, I’m leaving tomorrow morning, so I want to do as much as I can today.”

  The tension in her shoulders eased. “Well, if you need anything, if you need my help—
”

  He raised a brow.

  “Okay,” she said, raising one hand. “I know I’m probably the most unmechanical person you know, but I am good at helping if I’m told what to do.”

  He picked up another cookie. “Great. I do have something I’d like you to help me with.”

  “Oh…okay…” Dang. She’d expected him to blow her off.

  He walked over and sat on a bale of hay, then gestured for her to have a seat, too. She sat on the bale opposite him, pulled up her feet and sat cross-legged. The scent of hay teased her senses, dredging up a long-ago memory of the time they’d made love in the hay loft. She wondered if Luke remembered.

  Luke took one last sip of lemonade, then said, “It’s about my dad. Since I’m leaving tomorrow, I won’t have time to get him to see a doctor, but he needs a checkup.”

  “And you were wondering if I’d convince him to go.”

  He nodded. “That’s it. I know it’s asking a lot. He can be stupidly stubborn when he wants to be.” He gave a half laugh. “Which, now that I think about it, is all the time. At least when I’m here. You might have better luck asking him after I leave.”

  “I’ll be happy to do what I can. But you know—with Abe—there are no guarantees.”

  “If you can’t, then we’ll have to go to plan B.”

  “Which is?”

  “I don’t know yet, but there’ll be one if this doesn’t work.”

  “If what doesn’t work?” Abe hobbled inside, scowling as he looked from one to the other, then settled on Julianna. “You scared the living crap out of me disappearing like that,” he said. “You shouldn’t leave without letting me know where you’re going.”

  Luke glanced at his father. “Why?”

  “She knows why,” Abe said.

  She looked at Luke. “It’s nothing. Really.”

  “Well, now that I know you two are together, I’m going back to do some figuring on the books.” Abe started to leave, then turned back and said, “Don’t scare me like that again, young lady. It ain’t good for an old man.”

  Abe had been extra watchful of her since she’d told him about the voice-mail messages. She almost regretted telling him, but smiled affectionately, jumped off the bale, walked over and gave her former father-in-law a hug. Of course he’d be worried. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Promise I’ll be more thoughtful.”

  When Abe was gone, she gathered up the things she’d brought, but Luke stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “You want to explain?”

  She slipped from under his hand. “It’s nothing really. Abe is overly concerned about me.”

  “That’s easy to see. But the question is why?”

  She crossed her arms, hugging herself. Then she shrugged.

  “Oh, no,” Luke said when she didn’t say anything. “You don’t get off that easy. Now that I know there is a reason my father’s worried about you, I can’t let it go.” He crossed his arms, too, and standing legs apart, he grinned. “Besides, you know I can find out just about anything.”

  Well, she had news. His smug attitude was going to get him just the opposite. It was her choice who she confided in, not his. “Not this time.”

  “Oh?” He lifted his chin.

  “Yeah,” she spouted back, raising her chin as well. But dammit, he was right. She’d spent enough years with Luke to know he wouldn’t quit until he did find out. He was a detective. Solving questions was in his blood.

  On the other hand, he’d know it could be dangerous to spread the news she was hiding out, so maybe it would be okay. No…She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Knowing Luke, he’d insist she call the police. And if she didn’t do it, he would. Then the media would hear and get involved. Mark wouldn’t like the publicity and she’d never finish her story.

  She turned to leave but Luke gently took her by the arms and sat her on the hay bale again. “Please tell me.”

  Recognizing the concern in his eyes, Julianna looked away. He always knew how to get to her. So, maybe it would be better to tell him something. Something that would make him back off. She settled herself on the hay bale, then palms up, she said, “It’s just that I received a couple nasty e-mail messages from some creep who didn’t like the article I was writing. That’s all.”

  Luke pulled back. “That’s all.”

  She nodded.

  “You’re hiding out?”

  “Not hiding out exactly. Just taking a vacation to finish the last installment of a series.”

  Luke knew Julianna wasn’t the kind of person to run from idle threats. He’d figure out it had to be more serious than that.

  “What didn’t he like?”

  “He didn’t say. He said he wanted me to stop writing about missing kids.” Almost as the words left her lips, his eyes darkened. Crap. She should never have mentioned what the story was about.

  “Stop or what? Did he threaten you?”

  “I can handle it, Luke. People send email messages and write letters to the magazine all the time.” She stood, her back straight as a board.

  “I’d like to see the messages,” he said.

  “I see no reason for you to get involved.”

  Luke ground his teeth. A muscle near his eye twitched. He’d always said she never saw things from his perspective, only her own, which in this case was true.

  “Sorry. That doesn’t cut it. You’re involving my father. That gives me more than a passing interest in knowing what you’re getting him into.”

  He stood at the door blocking her way. “If my father is involved, I’m involved. Whether you like it or not.”

  Her mouth pinched. She clenched her hands at her sides. A war of wills, apparently. But if she knew him at all, she knew he wasn’t going to back down.

  “Okay,” she said on a sigh. “When you finish here, I’ll pull up the messages.”

  He placed a firm hand on her arm, urging her forward. “Let’s do it now.”

  Walking to the house, Julianna shrugged off his hand. Going into cop mode might work with someone else but not with her. Still, it was his family home and he did have a right to be concerned about his dad. So, big deal. She’d show him the messages and that would be that. What was he going to do? Tell her to leave? This was his father’s house, not his.

  Abe was waiting for her on the porch, pacing back and forth.

  She glanced at Luke. “Give me a minute will you.”

  When he just stood there, she added, “Alone. Please.”

  “Okay.” Luke raised his dirty hands and motioned to his grungy clothes. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Then I’ll be back.”

  When he was gone, she turned to Abe. “What’s the matter, Pops?”

  Abe stopped his pacing. “Did I screw things up?”

  She forced a smile. “No, you didn’t screw things up. I’m sorry I worried you.” They went inside together.

  “You sure?”

  “Sure. I was going to tell Luke anyway.”

  Abe rubbed the gray stubble on his chin. “That’s good. Keeping secrets is foolish. They always come out somehow.”

  “No more secrets, Abe. I promise.”

  It must’ve been a satisfactory answer, because then Abe said he was going to go take a nap. She’d noticed he was taking a lot of naps lately. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I get this tired feeling once in a while, that’s all.” He stood straighter, as if bolstering himself up. “Old men get tired easier than the young studs, you know.” He winked at her.

  “Not you. You can outwork anyone your own age—and most younger men as a matter of fact. I’ve seen you do it.”

  “I like how you think, young lady. Maybe you can talk some sense into that son of mine.”

  She frowned. “About what?”

  He sent her a look that said she should know what. And unfortunately she did. “No, Abe. Luke and I are divorced. We’ve been divorced for five years. We’ve made new lives for ourselves. It’s better this way.
”

  “Hah!” he said on his way out. “Maybe you’ve made a new life, but I don’t think Luke has. And that can only mean one thing.”

  She waved him off. “Go, take your nap, Abe. I have things to do.”

  Abe left and she headed for the den. Sitting at the old oak table, she pulled up the first e-mail message and got the creeps all over again. What was it about the story that threatened this guy? He had to be threatened somehow, otherwise why was he so adamant that she stop writing it.

  She left the message on the screen and picked up one of her research books, her muscles tensing as she read the title. Killing for Sport: Inside the minds of serial killers, a necessary resource for the articles she was writing. It was important to know her subjects.

  No sooner had she sat in the chair to start reading, than Luke returned. She went to the desk and showed him the first message. The least threatening message. “Stop the articles about Renata Willis or you’ll be sorry.”

  “And the other?” Luke glanced at the book in her hand. His face went ashen. She saw a muscle jump near his eye. “Nice reading material.”

  She tossed the book on the chair, then pulled up the next message. “Stop now or you’ll be next!” Both messages were signed with a star at the bottom. Reading it again, a chill jagged up her spine. She’d been shocked when the first message had come, and she’d been a little scared when she’d read the second. Then something in her rebelled. Scared or not, she’d never acquiesce to threats.

  She’d notified the San Francisco police but all they did was write a report. That’s all they could do, they’d said, and if she didn’t like the heat, she should get out of the kitchen. Their attitude made her even more determined to finish the series.

  As Luke read the message his body practically vibrated, the veins on his neck bulging. “You think this is nothing?” he spat out.

  She pursed her lips. “The magazine gets nasty letters all the time.”

  “If you didn’t think it was so bad, why did you go into hiding?”