“Mom feet.” Holly pressed the damp towel against his skin, dabbing and carefully scrubbing at the dried blood on his face and neck. He sucked in a breath, chilling his teeth as she pressed a little too closely to the wound. “Sorry. As much time as Simon spends with his nose in a book, he still manages to rack up cuts and bruises in spades. They stitched you up pretty well. Looks nasty, though.”
Water dripped down his neck and back, trickled down his chest. But the pain didn’t seem as bad. Not with her touching him, gently prodding and testing the broken skin. Wiping away the blood along with the vestiges of the encounter with Rex and Kyle Winters.
When had her fingers been tipped with fire? Everywhere she touched him it was as if he came alive, nerve endings he’d forgotten were reigniting. He slammed his eyes shut until he saw stars not unlike the ones that had hit when he’d been blindsided. “I’ve had worse.” He didn’t need this. Didn’t need her. Touching him. Caring about him. Being nice to him.
He didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t want it.
“So I see.” She tossed aside the cloth and picked up a new, clean one. She swiped the towel over his shoulder, his back, around to his chest.
“Okay.” He jumped to his feet, going the long way around the chair to retrieve the shirt. He needed to put some distance between them. “Thanks, Holly.”
“You’re welcome.” She sniffed and beelined for the trash can. “Boy, that’s some strong beer.”
“Yeah.” And the stench was curling his stomach. “I’d forgotten how pungent the cheap stuff can be.” Not to mention damaging in the wrong hands.
He’d had enough adrenaline coursing through his system to guarantee he was headed for a crash, and with it, his past would rear up and take another shot at him. There would be no stopping the nightmares tonight.
“How did Rex Winters do this much damage?” Holly asked.
“It wasn’t Rex.”
“I thought Simon said—”
“Simon?” Luke interrupted. “How does Simon know what happened?”
“He said he was riding by the community center on his bike and saw you putting Rex into Fletch’s car. He said you were covered in blood and could barely walk.”
Luke tried to remember seeing Simon when he and Fletch had pulled up to the station. He couldn’t. The last time he’d seen Simon had been at the diner with Charlie.
“It wasn’t Rex who hit me,” Luke told her. “It was Kyle.”
“Oh, no.” He understood the sympathy now and shared it. To a point. “Why would he do that?”
“Hang on. Fletch!” Luke carried the garbage can to the door as Fletch opened it. “Toss this in the trash outside, will you? The smell’s making me sick.”
“Gray always said smelling alcohol made him want a drink almost more than drinking it,” Holly said as her eyes went wide as he closed the door. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. They say scent memories bring on the strongest reactions.”
“I’d agree.” But since she’d brought it up... “I don’t remember Gray being much of a drinker.” An occasional beer here and there, but it wasn’t as if he was hanging out at the beach drinking himself stupid like so many of the rest of them, Luke included.
“Yeah, well. He was really good at hiding it.” She sat on the edge of his desk and hugged her arms around her torso, as if keeping a chill off. The pale green shirt she had on today reminded Luke of summer grass, freshly mown and smelling of fresh air and promise. “He was good at hiding a lot of things. Until he couldn’t. Gray could go weeks without touching a drop but then he’d see something, smell something, and the next thing I knew, he’d be gone for days. I guess we were lucky that he did try to stay sober.” Holly let out a sad laugh. “How’s that for a silver lining?”
“You have to find them where you can.” He was still trying to process the fact that do-no-wrong Gray Campbell had been anything other than the perfect husband. He’d had everything Luke had ever dreamed of—a loving wife, a great kid, a home... More proof you never knew what was going on behind closed doors. “I take it he never got sober?”
“Given his blood alcohol was twice the legal limit the night he died? No.” There was regret in her eyes, but the anger sparked over it. “I lost track of how many promises he made. I think in some ways, he felt stuck here. As if he wanted something more he’d never had a chance to pursue. I felt guilty about it, after he died.” She swiped her hand across her forehead as if catching a stray hair. “That maybe it was my fault he drank. He knew I’d never leave Butterfly Harbor and Dad. I used to think maybe by loving him so much I’d crushed any dreams he might have had. I finally asked him one too many times and we had a huge fight. I didn’t ask again. After that, I stopped.” She shrugged. “We stopped. A few months later he was gone.”
“You must still miss him.” Luke peered into her face, trying to figure out exactly what her expression said, but he may as well have been looking at a stone wall for all she gave away.
“I miss what could have been. I miss the dreams we had that never had a chance to come true.”
Her lips curved into the saddest smile he’d ever seen and for a moment, all he wanted to do was stretch out his arms and hold her, tell her there was living to do even after life dumped all over you, but who was he kidding? How could he convince Holly Campbell when he didn’t believe it anymore himself?
“Gray was big on promises he couldn’t keep. The day finally came when I stopped believing anything he said. By then there wasn’t anything left. What about you?”
Luke shook himself out of the burgeoning hope that maybe he was wrong, that a friendship could be salvaged between them. “What about me?”
“Obviously you got sober,” she said. “How long has it been?”
“Since I had a drink?” It never occurred to him to lie. “Twelve years. Give or take.”
“Twelve years?” Was that shock or disbelief on her face? “You mean you haven’t had a drink since—”
“The night of the accident.”
She frowned, as if unwilling to believe, but then her expression turned quizzical. “Because of your dad?”
“Because of yours.”
Holly stared at him. Luke could see she was struggling with whether to believe him or not; probably in the same way she’d done with Gray.
“I don’t know what to say.” She didn’t move, but something shifted between them, a charge in the air. A glimmer of understanding, perhaps. Or maybe gratitude. Or maybe Holly was finally beginning to understand he really had turned his life around.
“There’s nothing to say.” Luke gave her the out for the conversation they probably never should have started. “It is what it is. Did you really come all the way down here to check on me, Holly?”
“Why else would I be here?” Was that surprise on her face...or guilt?
“To talk about Simon.” Luke’s eyes skimmed the window ledge as he put the pieces of the station’s invasion together. He really wanted to be wrong about her son. “I thought I saw something that said he’d gotten into some trouble a while ago.” So much for not lying to her. He hadn’t found any reports. What he had heard were rumblings around town stating Simon had a penchant for getting into sticky situations, and while he was certain Charlie had been either in or near his office today, the little girl didn’t have the computer knowledge to hack into their system and install a malware program. Since he and Holly had declared a sort of truce, he didn’t want to break it by prematurely accusing her son of breaking and entering.
“Oh. That.” Holly shoved her hands into her hair that for once hung loose and curled around her shoulders, the way he preferred. She was so pretty with her hair down. Without the harsh control the ponytail evoked. “I didn’t realize Dad had put anything in writing.”
“I’d like to hear your side.” It was then he realized he could listen
to her all day. Talk to her all day. Look at her all day.
She shook her head, her expression shifting between frustration and helplessness, and for an instant, Luke regretted having to ask. “I don’t know why he does what he does, what goes on in his brain. Maybe it’s those superhero comics he’s always reading. Believing he can be just like them, helping people, but those synapses of his fire constantly. Personally I think the fact he could hack into almost anyone’s computer is pretty amazing—don’t tell him I said so,” she added with a warning look.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Luke drawled. Little did she know she wasn’t helping her son’s case.
“He won’t tell me why he did it,” Holly continued, “but he piggybacked onto the neighbor’s Wi-Fi and changed all their computer passwords and then renamed all their files after supervillains.”
Despite her confirming Luke’s suspicions, he pressed his lips together to stop from smiling. Man, Simon had flair.
“I know.” She pressed her palms against her flushed cheeks and shook her head. “I know! He’s like a supervillain in training and far too smart for his own good. I’ve already had to have a meeting with his new principal and school hasn’t even started yet. If he gets into any more trouble, they’re going to revoke his admittance and I’ll be out his first semester’s tuition.”
“That’s why you’ve been watching him constantly.” He couldn’t fathom how much attention of hers that took. When did she get a break?
“But he’s doing better,” Holly insisted. “Now that he has Charlie around, I don’t think he’ll be getting into much trouble.”
Oh, if only that was true. “Tell me about his new school.”
“It’s a charter school about twenty miles north. TrueLane Academy. They cater to gifted kids. Beyond gifted, actually. And they do specialized curriculums for each student, playing to their strengths and interests. It’s costing me a small fortune, but what else are second mortgages for, right?”
Luke’s amusement faded. Holly taking out a second mortgage for her son’s education shifted her son’s potentially criminal situation into an entirely different arena. “I’m guessing they have a pretty strict behavior policy.”
“Kids like Simon are part of the reason they have a behavior policy. He steps one foot out of line, ends up in any kind of trouble, and he’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. No three strikes and you’re out. It’s one and gone. And in Simon’s case he’s already had his one. This school is the best chance of finally getting him focused on something for his future. If I have to sit on him every hour he’s not in school, I’ll do it.”
And abandon the rest of her life in the process. When did Holly do anything for herself? Not that Luke was an expert, but there had to be more to life than work, home and playing warden to an eight-year-old. “I appreciate you filling me in.” Luke wasn’t one to hope for much, but right now, he really, really wanted to be wrong about who had declared war on the sheriff’s station—and him. “If he has done anything recently, I’ll do what I can to intervene.”
“I appreciate that. To be honest—” she laughed “—I’m a little relieved. I thought for sure given how he feels about his grandfather he might have done something to you. He can be overprotective of people he likes. He even got into a fight last year defending one of his classmates from a bully. Granted, he could have gotten suspended for two days for punching the little creep in the gut but—” Holly shrugged. “I was able to convince the principal to keep it out of his record.”
That meant Simon had never really been made to pay for his extracurricular activities, save for being stuck to his mother’s side for weeks on end. Not good. Not that it was his place to criticize. It wasn’t as if he had a kid or kids of his own. But if he could help steer Simon in a better direction...
“Hey, boss.” Fletch knocked on the door and poked his head in. “Ozzy thinks he’s found a way to retrieve the emails, but it’s going to take a call from you to smooth things over with the server. And the mayor called. He heard about Winters. Asked for you to call him back.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“I have to go anyway. I’m... Um.” Holly picked up her purse and stopped at the door. “I’m glad you’re okay. I hope Kyle will be when all this shakes out.”
“Assaulting a police officer isn’t the best idea in the world,” Luke said, trying to keep his tone light.
“Oh, that’s right. Any idea why he did it?”
“I know exactly why he did it,” Luke said. “Which is why I didn’t arrest him for it. I’ll walk you out.”
* * *
LUKE WAITED UNTIL after sunset before setting the alarm and closing up the station. He and Ozzy had been particular in what cameras and sensors they set up and where, and had even gone so far as to have the camera feed stored directly on their new off-site server. Luke would be able to pull up footage or a live feed from his laptop at any time.
Driving down Monarch Lane with Cash riding shotgun, he thought about his revelatory conversation with Holly. She would not be thrilled to know she’d given him information he could use against Simon. It was both disturbing and comforting to think Simon was probably the one behind all the shenanigans at the station.
The fact an eight-year-old was capable of the hacking? Luke didn’t want to think what the kid would be able to pull off after going to that gifted school of his.
But whatever the circumstances, Simon needed to be given a chance to redeem himself.
And chances—first, second or otherwise—were why Luke was alive today.
Streetlamps blinked on as he pulled his truck into Jake Gordon’s driveway. He unloaded Gert the coffeemaker out of the truck bed, lugged it to the front door, set it on the brick patio and rang the doorbell.
The porch light burst on before the door opened.
“Luke.” Jake looked surprised but happy to see him. “What brings you by?” He scrubbed a hand over his scraggly face.
“I brought you something.” He stepped to the side.
“I heard you got a new machine,” Jake said as he looked down at Gert. “Along with an earful from my daughter because of it.”
“I thought maybe you’d like it back.”
“Honestly?” Jake shook his head as if he were looking into a grave. “Gert makes the worst coffee in the hemisphere. I never had the heart to tell Holly and Simon. But I appreciate the thought. Bring it in. I can stash it in the garage for now. Maybe I’ll write it into my will.” He chuckled.
The skin on Luke’s back stretched again as he bent to pick up the big metal box, but he followed Jake inside and set it on an old hardware bench in the garage.
“How about you tell me why you’re really here?” Jake asked when the older man closed the door to the garage behind him.
“If you have some time, I need your help,” Luke said. “With Simon.”
Jake sighed and closed his eyes. He leaned heavier on his cane. “If memory serves, you could grill up a pretty good steak. That still the case?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, then, you cook. And I’ll give you the lowdown on my grandson.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“GOOD MORNING, DAD.” Holly carried a plate stacked high with banana-walnut pancakes over to table seven, refilled the customer’s cup and planted a kiss on her father’s cheek. “What brings you by so early on a Friday morning?”
“Since when is eight o’clock early?” Jake chuckled at the sight of Simon with his head in his arms sound asleep at the counter.
“Since I haven’t seen much of you since, well...” She shrugged. She was having too good a day to think about how reclusive her father had become since his job had ended.
“I’m meeting Luke for breakfast. Can I grab a booth?” He motioned to the empty one behind Simon.
“Sure.” Ah
, Luke? She scrubbed her free hand against her thigh. “You want your usual? Paige is filling in for Ursula for a few hours. Did you know she and Matilda are teaming up for a weekend bake-off in Monterey?” It was the first time Holly could remember the senior sisters not competing against one another. That alone should prove attendance-worthy.
“I heard rumblings of it.” Jake aimed a look through the kitchen window, where Paige was whipping up a batch of batter for Belgian waffles. “Paige is working out, then?”
“In this case, taking a chance has paid off. I don’t think I could keep this place going without her.” Being able to get in a decent night’s sleep, along with baking her pies in the morning instead of late into the evening, made her feel as though she’d struck gold. “I hate to say it, but the mayor’s expansion proposal might pay off after all.”
“Whatever you do, don’t tell Gil,” Luke said as he patted his hands against the poufy khaki uniform jacket staving off the morning chill. He blew on his hands. “Not yet anyway. Morning, Holly.”
“Good morning.” The sight of Luke first thing should have set her teeth on edge. Instead, all she could think was the man definitely knew how to wear a uniform. And that quirky, semiamused grin of his set her heart to fluttering faster than a flood of butterflies. “Coffee?”
“Dump it on my head, please.”
“Not until your wound heals.” Holly was glad to see him displaying his sense of humor again.
“What wound?” Jake’s forehead creased.
“I’ll fill you in over breakfast,” Luke said.
Would Luke have told her father anything if she hadn’t said something? “What can I get you, Luke?”
“Surprise me,” he answered.
“You heard the man, Paige,” Holly called, her voice rousing Simon, who drew sleepy eyes around the sparsely filled diner. “Surprise him.”
* * *
“ARE MY EYES deceiving me, or have you and my daughter finally called a truce?”
“It appears so,” Luke murmured as he slid into the booth across from Jake. The other day hadn’t been his imagination after all. “Let’s not jinx it.” He kept a watch on Simon out of the corner of his eye. The kid might be smart about a lot of things, but his spying technique wasn’t going to win him any prizes for covertness. Simon had a difficult time controlling his facial expressions. Or hiding the fact he couldn’t really hear anyone without turning his head in their direction.
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