by Scott Pratt
He hadn’t heard a word from Gabriele. Not even a “Hey, glad you’re alive” in a text. There had been calls from Brooke, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her.
Lukas knew what was going on. He was suffering from Post-Traumatic-Stress Disorder and depression. He wasn’t eating well. Couldn’t sleep. Hadn’t shaved in a week. Was drinking more beer than he should. He’d been through it before. The nightmares he’d endured after leaving the Air Force had lasted for a year, but with the help of a psychiatrist at the Veterans Administration and some group therapy, they’d finally stopped. He knew he might have to call the VA shrink and set up an appointment, but he hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to do it.
He’d gone to the mandatory session with the police department psychiatrist after killing Dolan. But killing Dolan wasn’t the issue. Dolan deserved to die, and Lukas had no regrets about sending him to hell. He was bothered more by nearly allowing Dolan to kill him.
But what was at the core of this depression, he believed, was that even if Dolan had killed him, who would have mourned him? His mother was dead, murdered by his father. His father was in prison. His grandparents had all passed away. His brother had been killed. He had no one. Had he spent his life being so selfish that no one would care if he left this earth? Had he poured too much of himself into the job? He had his cop buddies and his Little League teams where kids came and went, but those were all superficial relationships. He had Brooke, but he wasn’t sure where they stood. He hadn’t ever really given of himself, and because of that, he was alone.
He was sitting in his den, the blinds drawn, as darkness was falling outside. He heard a soft knock on the front door. His first inclination was to sneak into the bedroom and lock the door, but he forced himself to get up and see who was knocking. He looked through the peephole.
Brooke.
Shit.
“Lukas? Are you in there?” he heard her say through the door. “Lukas?”
“I don’t really want to talk right now, Brooke,” he said.
“Open the door, Lukas, please.”
“I look like hell.”
“I’m sure you do. Please let me in. I’m your partner, remember?”
“That case is over.”
“That case will never be over. For either of us.”
She was probably right about that. How many female detectives wind up getting their own daughter kidnapped during the course of an investigation? There was plenty of trauma to go around, courtesy of the psychopath Paul Dolan.
“Sierra says hello.”
Lukas dropped his forehead against the door. Why did she have to come now?
“Lukas, please? It’s cold out here.”
“You can get in your car and get warm.”
“I’ll stand out here all night if I have to. I’m not leaving until I see your face and we sit down and talk.”
Lukas sighed and unlocked the door. He opened it and stepped back into the room. He began cleaning pizza boxes and beer bottles off the table in front of the couch. He looked up to find Brooke staring at him.
“Wow,” she said, “you weren’t kidding. You look pretty bad. I have to admit I kind of like the beard, though.”
“Sit,” Lukas said, motioning to a chair at the dining room table.
Brooke was wearing tight blue jeans and a black turtleneck sweater underneath a denim jacket. Her blonde hair was down, and it shimmered beneath the dining room light like golden thread. Damn, she really was easy on the eyes.
“Want a beer?” Lukas said.
“Sure, a beer sounds great.”
Lukas pulled two beers out of the refrigerator and sat one down in front of Brooke. He took a seat across the table from her.
“How’s Sierra doing?” he said.
“She’s good, remarkably good considering what happened to her. She’s so young, though, I don’t think she’s able to really process how bad it was or could have been. Thank God that psycho sedated her and didn’t abuse her in any way. Haley took her out to eat and to do some shopping because I wanted to come over here and check on you. You won’t return my calls.”
“We were lucky,” Lukas said, ignoring the remark about the phone calls. “Give Sierra a kiss for me.”
“Why don’t you give her a kiss yourself? Come to my house tomorrow for dinner.”
“I don’t know…”
“We can’t let this get the best of us, Lukas. Are you having nightmares?”
“I’ve had a few,” he lied.
“Me, too. More than a few.”
“Mind describing them?” Lukas said.
“They’re vivid, as though it was all happening again. The one that recurs most often is of Dolan’s arm around my throat with that knife pressed against my side.”
“Those are PTSD nightmares,” Lukas said. “Are they in color or black and white?”
“Black and white.”
“Mine, too.”
“What happened out there, Lukas? How did Dolan get his hands on your Sig?”
“It doesn’t matter now. We were warned, and I failed. It’s a lesson learned.”
Brooke smiled. “Lessons we walk away from are good ones.”
“Seems like I’ve heard that before.”
“It must have been terrifying,” Brooke said. “Have you heard about Mrs. Winn, the owner of Smoky Mountain Cabins?”
Lukas shook his head.
“A federal grand jury in Knoxville indicted her for calling Dolan and warning him we were coming. She’s facing half a dozen charges. My guess is she’s going away for a while, no matter how good her attorneys are.”
“Karma’s a bitch.”
“So why are you sitting here alone, in the dark, depressed?”
“Honestly? I’ve been thinking about how self-involved I’ve been all my life. I’ve never made any real connections with people. It stems from something that happened when I was a kid.”
“What happened when you were a kid?”
Lukas looked at the beautiful woman in front of him. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d discussed the incident. Did he trust this woman? Did he want her knowing his deepest secrets?
“It stays in this room?”
“I promise.”
“I was six, my brother, Ben, was seven. We were living in Dalton, Georgia, just south of Chattanooga at the time. My dad was a long-haul trucker. He’d be gone for two weeks at a time. My mom started seeing this guy. He was a few years younger than her, and she started bringing him home once in a while. She said he was her cousin, but Ben and I knew better. We spied on them, which was easy because they were usually drunk and snorting this white powder that I later learned was cocaine. Over the next couple of months, when my dad would come in, he and my mom would get in these big fights. I heard her threaten to kill him, or have him killed, if he tried to take her boys from her. Anyway, one Friday night when he was supposed to be on the road, he showed up at home around midnight. Mom and her boyfriend were there, partying in the den. Ben and I were awake upstairs, playing video games. They didn’t care. I guess they were too high to care. I don’t know exactly what happened when he walked in, but I think they were having sex, and he just lost it. He had a Smith & Wesson 686 revolver that he carried with him on the road for protection, and he just opened up on them with it. Ben and I dived into the closet. I’ll never forget those shots. It seemed like they’d never stop.
“So, after they were both dead, he called 911 and came upstairs to make sure we were all right. The police came, took him to jail, and he wound up pleading guilty to two counts of first-degree murder. He got life without parole. I haven’t seen him since.”
“I’m sorry, Lukas,” Brooke said. “Do you think it would help to see him?”
“He doesn’t want to see me. My grandmother wrote to him al
l the time and she and my grandfather went to visit him, but he told them not to bring Ben and me. He didn’t want us to see him locked up in prison. I wrote to him a few times, but he never answered. I eventually just let it go.”
“So his parents raised you and Ben?”
“Yeah. My mom’s parents were divorced and had both moved away. They were always fighting anyway. My mom used to say terrible things about her parents. I don’t think my mother was a very good person. She wound up paying an awful price.”
“I had no idea.”
“It’s not something I advertise. But my dad’s parents were good to Ben and me. We both went into the military right out of high school – Ben into the Marines and me into the Air Force. Ben was killed in a training accident not long after he got into a Marines special ops unit. I was discharged from the Air Force because I beat the hell out of a civilian in a bar in Anchorage, Alaska, shortly after Ben was killed. They didn’t burn me, though. Gave me an honorable discharge, didn’t mention the fight in any of my separation papers, didn’t charge me with any crime. They just sent me packing.
“I wound up being interested in law enforcement, probably because of what happened between my mom and dad. I got a degree in criminal justice from the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, and then got a job with the Johnson City Police Department. And yes, I told them about my dad, but they gave me a shot anyway. I’ve been here ever since, but I haven’t really lived. Do you know what I mean? If Dolan had killed me, nobody would have really cared. I haven’t made a real difference with anyone because I haven’t connected with anyone. I haven’t really loved anyone.”
“You’ve made a connection with me.”
Lukas looked at her and she held his gaze.
“So, you don’t think it was just professional?” he said. “Just a man and a woman, both of whom happened to be detectives, thrown into a desperate situation who wound up relying on each other?”
“I’ve been calling you, Lukas, and I didn’t come over here just to talk about the case.”
“Why did you come?”
“Because I miss you. Because I care about you. Because we have connected. I feel closer to you than I have to any other man in my entire life. What you’re sitting here torturing yourself about is right in front of your face. You just refuse to see it.”
Lukas took a long pull from his beer. His stomach was tingling. He felt as though the fog that had been surrounding him the past several days was lifting.
“Are you telling me you want to give us a try?” he said.
“If you don’t mind taking a chance on a woman who works too hard and has a daughter.”
“Stay right there,” Lukas said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to take a quick shower and shave. And then I’m going to come back out here and give you a kiss if you’ll let me.”
“I have a better idea,” Brooke said.
“What’s that?”
“How about you let me wash your back?”
Chapter Forty-Four
Lukas knelt behind home plate again to receive another pitch from Timmy. He was truly surprised at how much stronger the little guy’s arm had gotten since June. What was even more surprising to Lukas was Brooke’s athleticism. She was standing near first base receiving throws from both Lukas and Timmy. Her movements were smooth and graceful, her hands quick, and her arm strong. If Lukas ever started a coed softball team, he knew exactly who his first pick would be.
He looked out into the outfield where Sierra was happily pedaling along on her bicycle. The day was unseasonably warm, nearly seventy degrees, making the recent snows seem like a distant memory.
Lukas winced as another fastball smacked the palm of his mitt. It was getting to the point where he would need to bring a proper catcher’s mitt if he was going to receive pitches from Timmy. He thought this would be a good time to take a break, so he motioned for Timmy to follow him to the dugout for a bottle of water. Brooke wandered into the outfield toward Sierra. Lukas sat down on the concrete bench in the dugout and pulled a bottle of water from a cooler they’d brought.
“Timmy, I think you’re right about being a pitcher for me next year. You’re really throwing the ball well, and it’ll only get better between now and next spring.”
“Thanks, Coach,” Timmy said, sitting down beside Lukas. “You really think so?”
“Sure do.” Lukas handed him a bottle of water.
“I can’t wait until next baseball season is here. The winter is so long. And this year it’ll be even longer since… well, you know.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Lukas said. “How do you like staying with Ms. Clay?”
“I like it fine. She’s really nice. I have my own room and everything. And she just bought me a bike. It’s the first one I’ve ever had, and it’s cool.”
“It sounds like you’re doing great.”
“I guess so. But I miss my mom. I try to be strong like you asked me to but sometimes at night I get to thinking about her and I… I just start crying and can’t stop.” The boy dropped his head and his shoulders slumped.
“You are being strong Timmy, and I’m proud of you. It’ll get easier as time passes, I promise. You won’t ever forget your mom and you shouldn’t. I don’t want you to, and I know she wouldn’t want you to. Your mom would be proud of you, you know that, right?”
“You really think so?”
“I sure do. Listen, I was wondering what you’d think about the two of us spending more time together.”
“I’d like that a lot, Coach.”
“As a matter of fact. I was wondering whether you’d like to come and live with me.”
Timmy paused. Lukas searched his face for some clue as to what he was thinking. “You mean like all the time?”
“All the time. You’d just come live with me. Would you like that if I can work it out?”
“That’d be great. I’d love it. Would you be my dad? I’ve never had a dad.”
“I’d do my best.”
“But you’d still be my coach, too, right?”
“Sure would. Nothing would change except you would come and live at my house.”
“That would be awesome.” Lukas could see excitement building in Timmy’s eyes.
“There’s a lot involved. I have to file some papers in court, some lawyers and a judge will have to get involved, and it’ll take some time. But if you think you’d like to come stay with me, I’ll see what we can do. Okay?”
“Yes! I’d love it.”
Lukas and Timmy sat in the dugout talking over the possibilities of Timmy living with him and watched Brooke and Sierra play together in the outfield. Lukas marveled again at the resemblance. It was as though Sierra had been cloned from her mother.
“Ready to throw a little more?”
“Yes, sir.”
The two spent the next ten minutes with Timmy back on the mound. Brooke eventually meandered in from the outfield.
“Watch this one, Miss Brooke.” Timmy let go of one that Lukas really felt.
“Wow, Timmy. That’s great.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, Timmy, do me a favor please,” Lukas asked.
“Sure.”
“Would you take my glove out with you and see if Sierra would like to play a little catch? Don’t throw the ball too hard to her.”
“Sure, Coach.” He looked at Brooke. “Can she catch?”
“I think she’ll surprise you, but like Lukas said, don’t throw it too hard. She’s only five.”
When Timmy was safely out of hearing distance, Lukas walked Brooke over to the dugout, and the two sat down on the bench. Lukas playfully grabbed her right arm and squeezed it.
“That’s some arm you’ve got there, Nolan Ryan,” he said.
“I’m impressed.”
“Wait till you see me hit.”
Brooke picked up a baseball that was lying on the bench beside her and looked at it. “I played softball in high school. Made all-conference my junior and senior years. Played basketball, too.”
“A regular jock, huh? How are you, anyway? Holding up okay?”
“I still have the occasional nightmare, and if Sierra gets out of my sight for more than a minute I get panicky. But I’m trying to cope. Lukas, since our talk a few weeks ago I’ve gone back and examined a lot of things, too. I’ve learned a lot about me, both good and bad, and I owe a lot of that to you. I feel like I’ve changed, like I’ve grown. I feel like I’m a better mother, a better friend, a better daughter and a better cop.”
“You’ve done the same for me,” Lukas said. “I wake up in the morning with a different attitude these days.”
They started back toward the field. He glanced over at her. “You know,” he said, “our relationship was so complicated, or at least I thought it was. Now it seems easy. Where have you been all of my life?”
“My dad always said the best things are worth waiting for.”
“Your dad’s a smart man. Speaking of which.” He reached in his pocket, took out some papers and handed them to her.
“What’s this?” she said as she looked them over.
“It’s something I’m going to try to do.”
“Lukas, this says ‘Petition for Adoption.’ For Timmy? Are you sure?”
“I don’t know. How can I know until I try?”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I admire you. Very few men would do something like this. Just be sure about it, for your sake and for his.”
Lukas allowed her words to sink in. “I know I can’t save them all, but I can save this one.”
Brooke looked out at Timmy and Sierra. Both seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. She turned to Lukas with watery eyes and said, “Actually, Timmy makes two. You already saved a little girl, and her mother will never forget it.”