“I don’t know. His partner is hurt bad.” She pointed toward the medics, who were loading the injured man into the ambulance rig. “Hopefully he’ll talk later.”
“If he’s able,” the patrol sergeant said. “He took quite a shot to the back.” He looked at Abby. “Lieutenant Jacoby is on the way. Are you up to going over what happened with me while we wait?”
“I’m fine. Let’s do it.”
Luke saw another homicide team and someone he bet was from the DA’s shooting team coming up the drive. They joined Abby and the patrol sergeant. He was dying to know exactly what happened and wanted to follow Abby and listen to what she had to say. He decided to ask another uniformed officer and saw that Bill had beaten him to it.
He heard the officer tell Bill what he knew. Luke’s hands went cold, and he clenched and unclenched his fists after he heard what Abby had gone through.
“What would that guy want with Abby?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know, bro. I don’t know.”
What was going on?
The ambulance pulled out with the injured man, sirens screaming, so Luke knew it was serious. He prayed the guy would survive and shed some light on the situation. Lieutenant Jacoby arrived, and Bill walked with him to the group around Abby. There were also three uniformed officers in the group. Luke had heard a total of four officers, including Abby, fired their weapons, and knew that this would be a long, drawn-out investigation.
He took a seat on her front porch steps and waited for her to finish. While he waited, a lab tech left Abby’s house as the public service crew arrived. They walked past him to repair her door. He stood and saw for the first time how much damage had been done there. Inside the house was also a mess.
It was about half an hour before the walk-through ended and Abby joined Luke.
She peered around him at the public service crew.
“How are you holding up?” Luke asked.
“I’m fine, really. Okay.” She held the little dog close and stroked his head.
“Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe help make sure the house is secured so you can sleep safe tonight?”
“Public service is here to do that. I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing you can help with right now.”
She was so removed from the warm, vibrant person he’d shared information with the night before that Luke was taken aback. His phone buzzed with a call from his mom.
“I have to take this,” he said, and she moved away to speak to the public service crew. Luke stepped off the porch to answer the call.
“Nadine is awake. Groggy, but awake,” his mother told him. “It looks like the worst is over.”
“That’s great to hear.”
She asked about the tetanus shot and he told her. He also told her what happened at Abby’s and asked that she pray.
“Is this related to the Triple Seven?” Grace asked.
“I wish I knew” was all Luke could say.
RUNNING THROUGH ABBY’S MIND in those few moments after the shooting stopped and she picked herself up off the ground was Bandit. Her ruined door and the violent nature of the men who’d violated her house made her fear the worst.
“You okay?” one of the officers asked as she started for the door.
“My dog,” she said as she ran for the door, the officer on her heels.
“Ma’am, we have to clear the house!”
Abby didn’t care. The only thing she wanted at that moment was the little furry body. If they’d hurt him . . . She couldn’t think of it.
“Bandit! Bandit!”
Nothing. Then she heard a muffled squeal coming from the kitchen and rushed in there. When she didn’t see him, fear began to cascade through her.
The cabinet! He was in the cabinet; she could hear him scratching. A chair had been thrown against the door. Abby pulled it aside, and relief flooded her as Bandit jumped into her arms.
“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered into his fur.
Her composure returned quickly. She was certain she’d done everything she could do regarding her assailant. He wouldn’t stop. She knew he’d meant to kill her with the crowbar and that knowledge kept her from second-guessing her actions. She figured that the second man was a lookout for the first, and she chastised herself for not being more aware, more attuned to her surroundings.
She blamed that on Luke. If I hadn’t been thinking about him, I would have noticed trouble sooner.
The walk-through went smoothly, and as a matter of routine, her gun was surrendered to the range officer. The same was true for the three uniformed officers who’d fired as well. All in all, a total of fifteen shots had been fired, but it would take an autopsy to determine how many hit the big guy. The rounds that had missed impacted her garage door. There was nothing in the garage to be damaged, so she’d deal with that problem later.
As the DA shooting investigator left, Jacoby approached her, concern in his features. “I want you to take the rest of the week off.”
She started to protest. “I’m fine, really.”
“Right now, maybe. But take the time off just in case.” He gave her a look that brooked no disagreement, and she was too tired to argue.
Since it was Wednesday, that meant she would not have to be at work until the following Monday. The state of her house helped her decide she was thankful for Jacoby’s order. It would take at least three days to clean up the damage. If she wanted to head into the station on her own time over the weekend, she would.
“You okay?” Bill asked.
“I’m fine, just tired and hungry. It’s been a long day.”
“I second that. I meant to ask you earlier: are you keeping your friend?”
“What?” Abby frowned and then realized he was talking about Bandit. “Oh, I guess so. The governor didn’t want him.” Her adrenaline high crashed all at once, and she nearly sagged against Bill, as fatigue slammed down like the crowbar.
Jacoby saved her telling Bill that Abby was officially off duty. She let them talk shop while she sat on the porch steps. It looked as if public service would finish soon. But she wouldn’t be alone until the coroner came to remove the body.
Luke finished his phone call and flashed her a smile. Her heart fluttered in spite of the anger she was trying to feel toward him. He was easy on the eyes, and having him this close and this helpful strained all of Abby’s hard-layered self-control.
“I just got a call from my mom at the hospital. Nadine is awake.” He knelt next to her.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Abby said. Was Nadine the key to what happened here at her house? Was she the she the big guy mentioned? “I hope we can talk to her soon.”
“Maybe in the morning.”
“Good.” She noticed his gaze travel to the door repair going on behind her. “They work fast. Glad I’ll be able to stay in my own room tonight.”
“You sure you want to sleep here tonight? Maybe you should stay at a friend’s or something.”
“This is my home. I—” She almost explained that she had bounced around too many times to strange beds and homes when she was in foster care. It would take an army to pry her out of this place she’d called home for the last five years. I really am tired, she thought, to almost share stuff with him I’ve only shared with Ethan.
“Yes? You were saying?” Luke asked.
“Nothing—just that I want to stay in my own home.”
“Well, will you at least let us help you clean up?”
“Yeah.” Bill joined them as Jacoby left the scene. Most of the black-and-whites had left as well. The chaos was winding down. “We have the time to help.”
Abby looked from one man to the other, on the verge of being rude. Mess or no mess, she just wanted the peace and quiet of her own house and her own thoughts. The sound of a car squealing to a stop on the street kept her from answering and turned everyone’s attention toward the noise.
Woody pushed past the tape and rushed toward her at a jog, concern cr
easing his face.
Cool relief flooded Abby like honey and chased away the rude. She needed Woody and his calm strength to center her.
“Don’t tell me this was because of the Triple Seven.” He stopped in front of Abby, eyes roaming from public service working on the front door, to the tarp covering the dead guy, to Luke and Bill, then coming to rest on her.
“No, it wasn’t. I don’t know what exactly it was about.” Abby paused, realizing Woody wasn’t alone. Slowly walking up her drive in his wake was Asa. “I think it was about that runaway girl.”
Asa had never returned her phone call, and now here he was. Funny, she thought. So much has happened, I forgot what I was going to ask him.
“The girl?” Woody was thoroughly confused. He looked at Bill. “That straight up? This isn’t related to the new ripple in the Triple Seven invest?”
“I don’t think so.”
Asa reached them, and Abby worked to keep shock from her face. He looked worse than the dead guy under the tarp. His nose had been red and bulbous from drinking when he retired, but now it looked twice as bad. And his skin was an unhealthy, waxy color. He’d moved to Idaho to enjoy a quiet retirement. Obviously he hadn’t been outside much. As she looked from Woody to Asa, a sick feeling slapped her: Woody had called Asa and told him about Abby breaking her silence.
“Asa,” she said, “I didn’t know you were coming for a visit. Don’t tell me you came back because of me?”
Woody spoke up. “I just picked him up at the airport. Got a call you were in trouble when we pulled out of the lot.”
Both ignoring a direct response. They had been partners for years and could finish each other’s sentences. Abby knew there was more going on between them than she would ever be privy to.
“Nearly killed us getting here,” Asa said in his booze-roughened voice before he popped a breath mint into his mouth. “Glad you’re okay.”
Abby felt an uncomfortable twinge, realizing he was probably drunk. She’d seen him drink enough liquor to put most people under the table without even developing a slur or a hitch in his step. But the faraway gaze in his eyes gave away his physical state.
“Let’s take a look at this guy,” Woody said to Asa. The coroner had arrived and knelt beside the body to inventory the man’s property. Bill walked with them to the body.
Abby turned to see Luke watching her, and suddenly exhaustion and hunger socked her like a one-two punch.
Luke followed. “Everything hitting you about now?”
He always reads me. But she was too tired to be angry. She said nothing. She held Bandit close, loving the feel of his rough tongue as he licked her hand.
Woody, Asa, and Bill were arguing about something while the coroner loaded up the dead man on the gurney.
“I just want to help,” Luke said softly.
Abby didn’t trust herself to look at him. She realized at that moment that she’d rather face ten men armed with crowbars than this one man she felt an attraction to. She needed to call Ethan.
When Woody and the others finished arguing and walked to the porch, and when they’d all decided they were going to order pizza and help her clean up, she had no strength to protest.
Everything in her life was spinning out of her hard-fought universe of control. Did she really want to fix it all herself? Could she?
“I guess I can use the help,” she said and let Woody pull her to her feet.
ABBY’S PHONE RANG with her normal ringtone, one that sounded like an old-fashioned telephone bell, and a glance down told her it was Aunt Dede. Before answering, she surveyed the group of men helping her put her house back together. Asa was the only one not doing something. He sat in the corner, looking as though he’d nod off any second. Woody and Luke were working in her kitchen, and Bill was on the phone ordering pizza.
“Woody,” she called out, “this is my aunt. I have to take it.”
“Go right ahead. We’ll head to your office after we get this room cleaned up.”
Abby stepped into her bedroom and closed the door. There was no mess in this room. The intruders had trashed everything else, and Abby was grateful they hadn’t come in here and done the same. Maybe I interrupted them.
“Hey, Dede.” She sat on the bed and set Bandit next to her.
“Abby, how are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Oh, you don’t sound good.”
“I’ll survive.” Abby did her best to sound brighter. “What’s up?”
“I talked to Ethan. He mentioned a video going around. Something about a train. He’s pretty upset about it.”
Abby sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the flood of tears that threatened. Not this, not now.
“I talked to him about that.” She explained about the train video.
Dede sighed. “I can’t force you to be careful. I can and do pray that you will use good judgment.”
“I always try.”
“I also saw a report on the Triple Seven, a news story about the cold case and the connection to Governor Rollins. Everyone says he’ll be the next senator from California, so it’s big news even here. Are you investigating that case?”
Abby leaned back in her bed and thought about the attempt on Luke’s life. Her head felt as if a ton of bricks had descended on it. She made a decision.
“I’m not . . . uh, I won’t. If it is reactivated, two other detectives will take it on.”
“That’s for the best. Does Woody think you’re still in jeopardy?”
Abby swallowed and looked up at her ceiling. “He was worried, but, well, it’s been twenty-seven years, after all, and like I said, I’m out of it.” She didn’t think her voice would hold if she told Dede about Luke.
Her aunt was quiet for a few seconds. “I know how hard that is for you. You’ve invested a lot over the years in unraveling that case.”
Abby closed her eyes, a thick lump in her throat. At that moment she believed she’d never find the answers she’d been looking for practically her whole life.
“I hope you don’t get mad at Ethan for telling me about the video,” Dede was saying. “It scared him, and when he spoke to you, he felt you were distant. He’s concerned that sometimes your job is too much of an obsession. Something I’ve told you for years.”
Abby bit her bottom lip. She felt like her world was quicksand and she was sinking. “I’m zonked right now. I don’t want to go into this with you. I’m good at what I do. I help people. Ethan used to be proud of me.”
“He still is. But what about when you get married? Where will Ethan fit in then?”
Now Abby was silent. She didn’t want to admit she wondered how Ethan would handle her leaving for 2 a.m. callouts.
“I accept his trips. Isn’t marriage a partnership?” She thought the question lame as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
“And when you have children?”
Abby sighed, deflated. “I really don’t want to have this conversation right now.”
“You sound beat. Please pray about all of this—your job, Ethan. And remember that I firmly believe your parents’ killers will never escape God’s judgment. No one does.”
“I will; I do. Now I have to go.”
“All right. I’m praying for you and I love you.”
“I love you too.” She tossed the phone to the end of the bed and sagged back, everything smashing in at once. She needed to have a face-to-face talk with Ethan.
Tears threatened with the force of terrorists, and she fought them. Not with a house full of friends and colleagues. She buried her face in a pillow and struggled for composure.
After Abby closed the door to her room to take her phone call, Luke surveyed the room across the hall that was obviously her office. The bad guys had really done a number here, emptying the bookshelves and throwing papers around. But nothing looked permanently damaged. He began putting books on the shelves and neatly stacking scattered papers back on her desk.
&n
bsp; He smiled to himself when he noticed the authors of some of her novels. Mickey Spillane, Raymond Chandler, Rex Stout, Dashiell Hammett, and Agatha Christie were all authors Luke loved to read. The old-time sleuths and PIs were heroes to him, hence the term shamus on his business card. The music he saw was a little different. Mixed in with praise music, there was some old jazz—Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong. Fits the time period of the books, he thought. They’d talked about the cold case they had in common but nothing about everyday interests they shared.
He picked up a picture frame and turned it over to see a photo of Abby and Ethan, and his smile faded. There was really no use for him and Abby to discuss common interests, was there? He set the picture on Abby’s desk and continued putting books on the shelves. He was almost done when he heard Bill holler that the pizza had arrived.
Abby came out of her bedroom. She looked surprised to see him in her office. And her expression was so profoundly sad, he felt his chest tighten.
“Oh, hey, thanks for doing that.”
Was there a catch in her voice?
“Sure, no problem. Doesn’t look like he broke anything, just tossed everything around.”
“I wish I knew what they were looking for.” She stepped into the office.
“I couldn’t help but notice your taste in reading material. The old sleuths, huh?”
She faced him, a slight smile on her face, and Luke felt warmed to see it.
“Yeah, Chandler is probably my favorite. You, as a shamus, should appreciate that.”
Luke laughed. “I can, and that’s where I got the term. My all-time favorite shamus, Philip Marlowe.”
“Sometimes I wish I could channel Spillane’s Mike Hammer,” she said, blinking. “It’s not a Christian attitude, I confess.”
Luke smiled broadly, understanding the reference. “Ah, you’d meet force with force and pound out the truth if you found someone to pound?”
“Let’s just say when the bad guys trash my house, my sanctuary, a part of me wishes I could respond in kind.” All humor faded from her eyes, and Luke saw the pain cross her face, if only for a second.
He couldn’t stop himself. He stepped close and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, we’ll figure this out,” he whispered. Before he knew it, she was in his arms, crying softly on his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her more tightly, he rested his cheek on her soft hair. “Let it out. You’ll feel better,” he whispered, all the while praying for her, for him, and for these feelings he knew he had no right to have.
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