by Alexa Verde
Luke shook Aidan’s hand and planted his feet wider apart. “I do my best.”
Luke, however, was growing a five o’clock shadow. How would it feel to the touch? Mari pushed the thought away.
“At such a rate, if the doctor lived in Rios Azules, I’d have to feed him dinners every day.” Mari chuckled.
Aidan’s gaze sobered. “But why would anyone want to break in here in the first place?”
“Beats me.” Mari shrugged. With secondhand, mismatched furniture and the absence of electronics or jewelry, the most valuable thing in her house was Nowa. And her dog wouldn’t be easy to steal.
“Dr. Goodman, what were you doing here in the middle of the night?” Derek asked.
Luke’s jaw set tight. “Miss Del Lobo seemed to have a bad run of events since the time we met. I wanted to check that she was all right.”
The policeman’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t question him further.
Aidan turned to Mari, concern in his hazel eyes. When they’d been teens, Aidan had tried to protect her from her father. Even these days, Aidan obviously took his responsibility as the knight in shining armor seriously. Sometimes Mari wished Aidan would give all that attention to Lydia, who was currently watching him with puppy eyes.
Mari gave a statement for the third time in twenty-four hours, which had to be a record for Rios Azules. No, it shouldn’t count if it was already night.
Derek took Luke’s and Lydia’s statements as well, while Aidan checked the backyard. Judging by Aidan’s sullen expression when he returned, he was disappointed.
“Not much trace evidence?” Mari asked.
“Lots of hairs, but they all look like they came from Nowa. No footprints.”
She wasn’t surprised by the lack of footprints. It hadn’t rained for a while in Rios Azules. Aidan took pictures of several patent fingerprints on the door handle and dusted for latent ones.
Mari and Lydia made a beeline for the kitchen. Soon the scents of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air. They brought trays to the guys. Luke and Derek took one empanada each. After wolfing down three, Aidan seemed to be ready to go talk to the neighbors.
“Great timing. They are probably just falling asleep after waking up to a siren.” Mari picked up the empty tray.
“What needs to be done needs to be done.” Aidan was nothing less than efficient. And he obviously wasn’t happy that the crime scene was effectively contaminated by Dr. Goodman, Lydia, and Nowa, and not by the intruder.
Mari secured her gun and her knife in the safe and walked Aidan to the door. From a chubby boy, he’d become a muscular man, in spite of his love for pastries. But he still retained an easy smile, especially for his friends. The smile she missed now.
For one weak moment, she leaned into Aidan for support, like in her teens, and smelled his familiar spicy aftershave, sugary pastries, and enormous kindness.
“I thought the nightmare was over,” she whispered into his uniform.
“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Aidan’s voice was low but firm. “Would you like to stay with me?”
“I can defend myself now. But thanks.” She gave him a grateful smile, turned around, and met Luke’s gaze. His eyebrows were drawn together. Had he mistaken her and Aidan’s friendship for something else? But why would he care?
Her heart fluttered. If it was jealousy she saw in Luke’s eyes, could he be attracted to her?
Nowa barked. The knock on the door followed, and Mari winced.
“Expecting someone?” Derek asked.
He and Aidan drew their guns and moved to the door. Luke stepped forward with his .45, as if he was trying to shield her. Absurd. She could very well protect herself.
“Expecting someone? At three in the morning? Really?” Mari asked.
As Lydia reached for her rifle, Mari decided to leave her own weapon in the safe. The intruder didn’t stand a chance anyway.
Aidan gestured to Luke and Lydia, and Mari got his hint. Obviously, she did get guests at midnight. “Well, no.”
He opened the door. Two of her neighbors, from both sides of the street, squeezed in. Aidan proceeded to take their statements with the same enthusiasm he was finishing empanadas with a minute ago. Mari hurried to make more coffee.
When she came back with a tray, Luke was talking to Lydia and Derek and the neighbors to each other. Aidan was trying to pry information out of everybody, and Nowa was listening with deep interest to it all. Mari sighed. It was going to be long night.
Luke, apparently always a gentleman, took the tray and distributed the empanadas.
There was another knock. Everybody froze.
Aidan went to answer.
Minutes later, Nina and two waiters from The Café filed in.
“Nowa, bleib!” She stopped her German shepherd, who rushed to the door, ready to attack. “Hier!”
Growling, Nowa came back.
“Good job, Nowa.” Mari groaned inwardly. Outwardly, she made a friendly wave. “Doesn’t anybody sleep in this town?”
“We heard the sirens. We were worried about you,” they said in unison. “We wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
“That was nice of you.” Mari introduced everybody to everybody.
There were not enough chairs, so some of them made themselves comfortable on the sofa and the carpet. Nowa crawled closer to her, on guard with so many people in the house, and watched them with attentive dark eyes.
“I think I had some flan in the fridge. And there’s iced tea,” Mari said.
Lydia and Nina took the hint and followed her to the kitchen. Soon they appeared with paper plates with flan, flanked by Luke and Aidan, who dragged the trays with iced tea glasses. Even woken up at three in the morning, Mari believed in hospitality. Nowa received dog biscuits and a nice belly rub from Aidan.
“I need to talk to you,” Luke whispered when she passed by him. “Alone.”
She nodded.
Luke had said grace before they’d eaten the dessert, and several people had joined him. Mari wasn’t among them.
She missed saying grace with every meal, going to church on Sundays, praying. Once, she’d believed she was worthy of God’s love. But that had been before she discovered her brother was leading a double life, killing innocent people, and she’d never seen the signs. Before the horrible fire at the log cabin. How could she be worthy of it now?
Mari looked around the small gathering. What had Luke said tonight? Sometimes people closest to you hurt you the most.
Somebody from this close gathering might be here for a reason totally different than checking up on her. But why? Why would someone want to harm her? Money, revenge, envy, all these combined?
After picking up empty plates, she escaped to the kitchen to think.
How much did she know about her neighbors, both attractive bachelors with attractive jobs? Or her waiters? Could she trust her friends completely? An outrageous thought ran through her mind, and she tried to catch it.
She leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The messages looked like they came from her late brother.
No.
Not possible.
“Are you okay?” Luke’s worried voice interrupted her thoughts.
She whipped around and found herself close to him. Her breath hitched. “Just tired. I need to get back to the guests.”
“Wait.” He touched her shoulders, and she inhaled sharply. “I want you to be careful. Don’t drink anything you didn’t pour yourself. Or eat anything you didn’t put on the plate yourself.”
She flinched. “It can’t be that bad.”
“One of the people in that room might be helping your brother.” He leaned to her, close enough for her to feel his breath.
Her breathing grew shallow. She inhaled deeply to remedy it. She had to fight this weird attraction. “My brother is dead. Get it through your thick head, Doctor. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to my guests. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Promise?�
�� He caught her gaze with his and held it.
“I already did.” Her heart fluttered. Why was she so drawn to him? Curiosity. It was simple curiosity.
She swayed when she came back from the kitchen into the living room. Probably exhaustion was getting to her.
As if expecting her to fall, Luke moved beside her. “You need to rest.”
Aidan gave her a worried look. “That’s enough. Everybody goes home.”
Soon everybody left.
Except Aidan and Derek.
And Luke.
Aidan went into the kitchen to put the dishes into the dishwasher.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here for a bit, just as a precaution.” Luke stretched his legs, sinking deeper into the sofa. The faded olive-green sofa — which probably had been emerald-green in its better days — was second-hand and old, and the cushions were giving in.
She lifted her chin. “I mind.”
“I’ll stay anyway.”
“It’s actually my job to keep Mar safe.” Derek took one of the chairs.
The chair squeaked under his weight but survived. She’d sanded the old oak tables and chairs and repainted them chocolate-brown. She didn’t want her hard work to collapse under Derek’s muscular body.
Both guys looked stubborn enough for a standoff, and she was exhausted to the bone marrow. “I’ll leave you gentlemen for a bit. Talk about sports, cars, and women. Or don’t talk at all. The remote control is on the table. I’ll be right back.”
She opened the bathroom door and froze. There was an inscription on the mirror in scarlet, apparently written by her own lipstick. The lipstick had been a present from Lydia, but Mari had barely ever used it. She kept it on the bathroom counter.
Red letters were moving in front of her. She blinked and put the words together.
“How could you leave me to die?”
Chapter Five
Her right hand fisted, and she pressed it into her mouth, stifling the scream.
The sound of steps behind her caused her to whirl around. Luke’s eyes widened as he looked at the inscription.
He stepped forward. “Are you okay?”
Mari lifted her hand to prevent him from getting too close. If she let him hug her, she’d fall apart. “I’ve been better. But then I’ve been worse, too. More hate mail. I can’t let it get to me.”
He seemed to give her personal space as he stopped at her gesture. “It’s not hate mail. This is serious.”
Nowa made it to the door in several powerful jumps and growled at the inscription.
“Sitz!” Mari ordered, but it took an efficient pull back from her to stop Nowa from launching into the bathroom. “It’s okay, Nowa. It’s going to be okay.”
Aidan stepped inside the bathroom, took pictures of the mirror, and bagged the lipstick without a single word. Derek made a quick sweep of the house again, while Mari looked for anything out of place. They all returned to the bathroom empty-handed.
“I hate to go, but we have to process this.” Aidan’s dark eyes reflected the battle inside him. He glanced at Derek and then back at Mari. “How about we take you into protective custody?”
“Negative. I’m not going to run. Besides, RAPD doesn’t have enough forces to protect me.” She also had a feeling the chief wouldn’t be keen on the idea, but she didn’t want to say it out loud. She wouldn’t let her friends risk their jobs for her.
Derek’s square jaw tensed. “We’ll ask for help. We’ll demand it, if necessary.”
“I had lot of hate mail a year ago. I’m still alive.”
“Mari…” Derek stepped toward her.
“I said no.” She turned to the inscription and blinked several times, as if hoping it would disappear. It didn’t. The blood-red letters shouted at her.
Luke moved forward. “I’ll stay with her.”
This was not a good idea. Her heart fluttered. Mari crossed her arms on her chest. “Why?” she asked.
He gave her a disarming smile. “I happen to like — what do you call it? — the flan.”
The caramel custard dessert was excellent, but Mari doubted it was the reason he’d decided to camp out in her house.
Aidan waved for her to step aside with him, which she did, followed by Nowa, who trudged behind her. “I ran Goodman’s background check,” he said grudgingly to Mari. “He checks out.”
“When did you have time? Okay, never mind.” Mari ran her fingers through her bangs. Aidan’s kind eyes, benevolent nature, and enormous appetite made some people question him as a cop, but she knew better. She’d seen him in action.
“I’ll be fine.” She gave Aidan then Derek a quick brotherly hug and locked the door behind them.
She turned to Luke. “I have bad news for you.”
A muscle moved in Luke’s cheek. “What’s that?”
“There’s no more flan left.”
His eyes softened. “I think I’ll survive. Any idea who did it? And why?” He gestured toward the bathroom mirror.
Her heart heavy as a rock, she shrugged. “There were many people at my place tonight. Any one of them could’ve left the inscription.”
“What about the second question?”
Why? She chewed on her lower lip. The message did look like it was from her brother who was believed to be dead.
“I don’t know,” she said.
Surprisingly Luke didn’t press on. “Do you mind if I look around?”
“You know the answer to that question.”
“Yep. You mind.”
“You’re learning.” In spite of the gravity of the situation, she found herself smiling. “But you’re going to do it anyway.”
“Yes. You’re learning, too.”
Mari looked at Nowa, who returned the puzzled look. Most of the men in her life couldn’t survive Mari’s stubbornness, independence, and warped sense of humor. For some reason, her rough edges hadn’t made Luke walk away. Apparently, it took a hunt for a dead serial killer for a man to stick around.
She wanted her, not her late brother, to be the reason Luke would stick around. Luke’s protectiveness grated on her nerves. But it also made her feel warmer inside. Mari brushed aside her bangs, wishing she could brush aside the confusion inside her head as easily.
“Well, if you’re so determined, I’ll join you,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Afraid I’ll hide the evidence?”
“Maybe.” After all, if she couldn’t trust her own brother, how could she trust a stranger?
Even if she really, really wanted to trust this stranger.
The second, more thorough search inside of the house yielded no results.
Mari suppressed a yawn. “Let’s look outside.”
Summer nights in South Texas were warm, but she slid on her boots. She picked up her knife from the safe and put it in her cowboy boot. Luke watched her with interest in his eyes. In his circle, he probably hadn’t met many women who wore daggers in their boots.
She pulled on rubber gloves, grabbed a flashlight and several plastic bags, and they stepped outside.
Mari pointed at the flowerpots, poor plants already wilting. “Lydia’s present. Though it’s a lost cause with me. I have a black thumb. I’ve never met a plant I couldn’t kill.”
He chuckled. “I believe I’ve seen a cactus in your living room?”
“Yep. Prickly pear cactus. Supposed to have beautiful yellow flowers. It’s a tough plant. I’ve never watered it, and it likes it just fine. Refuses to bloom, though.”
They dug into the first two pots. Nothing.
Mari sighed. “I was hoping to hit pay dirt. It would be the most logical place to hide something.”
“So far, we only hit the dirt.” Luke’s eyes sparkled in the darkness.
She tried the third pot and dug deep. “Bingo!” She pulled out something tiny and white.
A shark’s tooth. Her heart sank.
She put the tooth in one of the bags and showed him her find. “Tony once gave me
a necklace made from shark teeth. When we were teenagers. Apparently, he wanted me to grow teeth.”
They combed the grass inch by inch but couldn’t find anything else.
She decided to get the tooth to Aidan in the morning. Until then, it wouldn’t hurt to show it to Nowa. They stepped inside, and the dog ran to them, looking a bit unhappy at being left out.
“Such!” Mari asked the German shepherd to search, letting her sniff the shark tooth.
Nowa walked to the couch where several people had been sitting earlier, paused, walked to the door, and barked. Mari let her dog out and followed her across the drive way. The dog stopped at the road. Whoever she was following had probably left in a car. Nowa tilted her head and whined apologetically.
Mari sighed. “You did what you could. Thank you.”
Once they were all inside and the doors were locked, checked, and secured, Mari waved for Luke to sit down. He took the armchair while she made herself comfortable on the sofa.
“Why are you interested in my dead brother? You’re a doctor, not a policeman or a PI.” And then it hit her. “Did he hurt someone from your family?”
“The family I was going to have. Cynthia. My fiancée.”
* * *
Familiar pain knifed through Luke’s heart.
Mari’s eyes widened in horror, and she jerked back, as if from a slap to the face. She seemed to recover quickly, however. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” For a year, he’d tried to persuade himself it wasn’t his fault, either. But he should’ve saved Cynthia.
Some way.
Somehow.
And he hadn’t.
He said a quick prayer for Cynthia, glad he could find consolation in prayer. After her death, only his faith had prevented Luke from going crazy with grief.
Hurt flashed through Mari’s hazel eyes. “It was my fault. I was his sister. I was supposed to know him like nobody else did. I should’ve seen sooner who he really was. I should’ve stopped him.”
“Maybe now you’ll have that chance.”
“Tell me more about the recent murder… the one with Tony’s signature.” She leaned forward.
Nowa moved closer, watching him with intelligent eyes, as if deciding whether he were a threat. A low growl came from deep in her throat. The dog obviously sensed he was making Mari upset.