by Polly Iyer
“I’ll check my email.” She clicked on the new message, and heard the mechanical voice. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Nothing outside,” Luke said, coming in from the patio. “What’s the matter?”
She pointed a shaky finger at the message she knew flashed on the screen.
Did you enjoy our little meeting? I did. Maybe we can do it again. Only next time it will be you instead of your dog. Can’t wait.
“Damn. Who is this guy? I’ll run the address through the computer.”
Abby hugged herself to stop the tremors and turned toward Luke. “He’s ransacked my home and almost killed my dog. He won’t stop until he gets me. I don’t know why he didn’t do it last night. He’s only prolonging the inevitable.”
“I told you, if that’s what he wanted he would have done it by now. He’s trying to terrify you.”
“Well he’s doing a damn good job.” She knew Luke was saying that to alleviate her fear. The incidents were escalating in violence, like Pete said. There’d be more, and they both knew it. “He even made a complaint to the ethics committee about me.”
“Repeat. I didn’t get that.”
She did, and the tone of his voice indicated he understood. “What? When?”
“I found out yesterday.”
“About me?”
“I assume so. They wouldn’t give me any information. An investigator will check into the allegations. There’s nothing there.”
“Son of a bitch. I don’t want to leave, but if my being here is a problem, I will.”
“No, stay. We’ve done nothing inappropriate.”
“What about now?”
She touched his arm. “You’re not my patient, Luke.”
“The last thing I want to do is get you in trouble.”
“I recused myself for that very reason. I don’t want you to go,” she paused, “but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want you to stay.”
Luke didn’t say anything for a minute. “I’m either getting mixed signals, or I’m not reading you right. Did you say you don’t want me to go, but you don’t want me to stay?”
Abby didn’t answer.
“Say what you mean, Abby, because I’m not sure I understand.”
She drew a deep breath and considered what she wanted to say. “There’s a lot of anger inside you. You’re going through traumatic changes. If you lose your career, you’ll have questions of self-worth. I don’t want your anger erupting again when I’m around. I’ve been there before. I’m not going through it again.”
He knelt down beside her. “Do you think I’m capable of hurting you?”
She shook her head. “No, but I think you’re capable of hurting yourself.”
The silence in the room spoke volumes.
“Luke?”
“I’m past that. I’ve spent the last few days thinking about so many things. I can deal with what’s happened. I have to.” He took her hand, still resting on the computer desk. “You give me strength.”
She rolled the desk chair away and pulled her hand with her. “I can’t be anyone’s crutch. I have a hard enough time being me.”
“You’re not a crutch, but you can’t help setting an example.”
“Outwardly, maybe, but inside I’m still groping around in the dark trying to make sense of things. That’s my edge and why my patients relate to me.” Rolling toward him, she said, “Sit down. Please. I have something I want to run by you.”
She listened while Luke settled into the other chair.
“I’ve given your situation a lot of thought, and I’ve come up with a couple of ideas. Don’t say anything until I finish, okay?”
“Go ahead.”
“First, do you remember the first time my house was broken into?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I was impressed with the way you handled the crime scene. You know your stuff. Only lab work requires specialized training. Your experience is valuable in dissecting a scene.”
“And the second idea?”
“The FBI and police departments all over the country employ lip-readers for undercover work. Usually, they hire outsiders. You’re good and you’re a cop. In New York, the police hired a lip-reader to watch a drug dealer talk to an associate. He learned of a large shipment. The DEA moved in on the cargo ship and broke up the ring, all because of the lip-reader. You’d have to get your name out there, but you’re perfect. Well, what do you think?”
“I think you’ve been doing some research.”
She smiled. “A little, maybe.” He didn’t say anything, and in a moment of insecurity she wondered whether she’d overstepped some imaginary boundary. Then Luke spoke.
“I’ve always enjoyed working crime scenes. I haven’t thought about redirecting my focus. But, yeah, I suppose it might work.”
Abby didn’t know how Luke would react to her meddling in his life, but hearing his positive reaction made her glad she did.
“Then you’ll think about it?”
“I’ll talk to the captain, see what my options are. I know they want me out, but this is a way to keep me without agonizing over a discrimination lawsuit if they fire me. I’d hate to do that, but I would. I want to keep my job. I might even win in this disability-sensitive age.”
He slipped his hand around the back of her neck. “Thanks for caring. I mean that.”
A ripple of excitement flickered in a place that hadn’t been flickered in a long time. Lucy would be glad to know her daughter’s sex drive was still in working order. After an awkward moment, she raised her hands to stroke the side of his face. “You didn’t shave this morning.”
“If I’d anticipated this, I would have.”
She caressed his lips, tucking one finger inside.
He sucked on it, grabbed her hand, and kissed it.
“I’ve gotta tell you, this is really turning me on.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I’ve never been excited by someone touching my face before, but I’ve got a hard on that’s about to rip my pants.”
She laughed. He pulled her up and placed one of her hands on his bulge to prove his claim. He left it there, drawing her closer, his strong hands all over her back and neck and into her damp hair. His lips, soft in contrast to the bristle of his two-day growth, brushed her mouth, tongues exploring inside, dancing around each other. She stretched her hands across his tightly muscled back, clutching and stroking and kneading. He lifted her face, and they kissed.
It had been so long since she’d kissed anyone, since she’d wanted to kiss anyone. His erection pressed against her thigh. So many emotions fluttered through her—excitement, joy, and fear. Her body tensed and she pulled back. Luke didn’t let go, but his hold relaxed.
He spoke into her ear. “No matter how much I want you right this minute, and I do, I won’t rush you.”
“It’s just that—”
“I’m not watching your lips, so no need to explain. I’m a patient man where you’re concerned. I can wait.”
She didn’t explain, because her body wanting to make love conflicted with the thoughts racing through her mind cautioning against it. Two different entities, each with separate needs, and she needed to be careful how she nourished each one.
Chapter Nine
The Blind Leading the Deaf
When Abby told Luke about her date at the track, he reacted like most people when they pictured a blind runner—with a mixture of skepticism and awe.
“I thought you had a runner’s body, but…”
“I know. The image of a person running blind is hard for most people to comprehend. I decided if I was going to be blind for the rest of my life, I’d be the best blind person I could be. I learned Braille—hard to master in midlife; it took me two years, and I’d always been a runner, so why not? There are quite a few of us, especially the kids. They have no fear. There’s a whole world out there, Luke. Just because we can’t see it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t participate.”
“Well, I want to
see this.”
Abby changed into shorts and running shoes. The sun warmed her shoulders, but it wasn’t hot. Perfect temperature for running. She’d called Jackie to tell her she had a ride to the track, and when they arrived, she was waiting. Abby introduced her to Luke, and he took a seat in the bleachers.
Each woman wrapped the ends of a long shoelace around their hands, leaving enough slack to run independently but close enough to synchronize their pace. Abby trusted Jackie completely.
She remembered the first time they ran together and the fear that accompanied every step. What if she lost her balance? She did too—the second time out, twisting her ankle and taking Jackie down with her. It took all her nerve to get back up and try again, but with Jackie’s encouragement, she persisted.
Abby stretched out in long, even strides, maintaining her lane. Jackie had convinced her that no one watching would know she was blind from the confidence of her style. They ran twenty laps, more than five miles. When they finished, neither woman took a winded breath.
“She’s terrific, isn’t she?” Jackie asked Luke.
“Amazing.” He toweled off Abby’s forehead and wrapped her sweat jacket around her shoulders. “Maybe next week I’ll run with her, if you don’t mind.”
“Well I do,” Jackie said. “I’d hate to miss running with the only woman who can keep up with me.”
“You know you slow down for me, Jackie.”
“Hell I do. If you could see, you’d leave me in the dust.”
Jackie was pumping her up in front of Luke, and she appreciated it. They all laughed anyway. Abby felt like a new person, energized and fit. Next week, Jackie said, she wanted to see how the man did.
“How about one lap now?” Luke asked. “I’m wearing shorts and tennis shoes. Let’s see if I can keep up. You game?”
“Sure,” Abby said.
“Hey, not fair. She’s just run five miles.”
“I’m good for one more lap.”
Jackie gave Luke explicit instructions on technique, making sure he understood not to take the lead and pull. When she felt comfortable that he understood, she gave her consent.
“Grab hold,” Abby said. He did, and by the end of 400 meters, Luke sounded like he had emphysema, and Abby was pulling him.
“Man, I’m out of shape,” he wheezed, “but I’ll catch up. Should’ve quit smoking sooner. Give me a few weeks.”
“You’re gonna need more than a few weeks to catch up to Abby,” Jackie said, “but go for it. You need the exercise.”
They all laughed again, but Abby knew Luke took the challenge seriously. She wouldn’t be surprised if he started practicing nightly before next week. She’d know after the first lap.
Luke put his arm around her. “What do you say we shower and change and go shopping for some running shoes? If I’m going to give you a run for your money, I’ll need the right equipment.”
Abby groaned at the pun.
“There’s an athletic shoe store next to Barnes and Noble. We can grab a cup of coffee after.”
“I won’t be much help with the shoes, but I never turn down coffee. I can pick up a few audio books while we’re there. A good mystery novel before bed clears my mind of other people’s problems.” She showered and changed into jeans.
After Luke bought his shoes, they sauntered into the book store, where the rich aroma of coffee wafted through the air. Luke guided her to a seat at a small table and ordered two cappuccinos.
“I think the last year softened me,” he said. “I didn’t realize how out of shape I am.”
Abby reached over and touched his muscular arm. “You don’t feel out of shape to me. Take it from someone who does a lot of feeling around.”
“I’m not pushing, understand, but if you’d like to feel a little more later, I’m available.”
A smile accompanied her racing heart. “I’m not trying to be a tease, Luke. This is all so new to me. I’m scared and confused.”
She felt him wipe something from the corner of her mouth. He took her hand. “No explanation necessary. This is new for me too. It’s turning out to be a hell of a year.”
Luke’s affectionate public display surprised her. Most men were embarrassed to show affection in public. She hadn’t anticipated this side of him.
“You—”
He stopped in the mid-sentence. She didn’t have a clue why until she heard the silky voice.
“Hello, Luke. Surprise seeing you here.”
An uneasy quiet followed and silky voice repeated her greeting.
“Oh, hi, Claire,” Luke said as he slid his hand off Abby’s.
“Long time no see,” Claire said.
“I guess it has been.”
“You’re looking…well,” she said. “Actually, you look great. How’ve you been?”
“Been doing okay. How ’bout you?”
“Keeping busy. You still with the department?”
“Still there.”
Abby began to feel invisible as she listened to this primer in small talk, when silky voice said, “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Sorry, of course,” Luke said. “Abigael Gallant, my ex-wife Claire…”
“It’s still McCallister. I haven’t been able to part with it yet. Pleased to meet you, Abigael.”
The bottom dropped out of Abby’s stomach. She’d never given a thought to Luke’s ex-wife and wished she didn’t have to think about her now. Why should she feel like that? After all, Luke and Claire were divorced and he was sitting with her. That meant something, didn’t it?
“The pleasure’s mine,” she managed to say, even though her mouth went dry as a bone. More silence. She assumed her lack of precision eye contact gave her away.
“I see you’ve been shoe shopping,” Clair said.
“Yup. Running shoes. Abby put me to shame this morning.”
“Really,” Claire said.
Abby heard the strain in Luke’s voice. Idle chat was not his long suit. Nor hers.
“Gallant,” Claire said, her tone questioning. “Now I recognize the name. Very pleased to meet you, Doctor. Your name crops up in the paper when you consult with athletes. I’m always impressed.”
“Thanks. I never issue those press releases. I wish the reporters would leave those guys alone. Most of them are trying to regain their confidence after an injury.”
“Maybe those writers want everyone to know their sports heroes have as many insecurities as the rest of us.”
Abby tried to detect any sarcasm in Claire’s voice, but she sounded nice. Why does she have to sound so nice? “It doesn’t seem fair, though, does it?”
“I think it’s amazing you run,” Claire said. “I can’t imagine. You put the rest of us to shame.”
“I run with a guide runner. No big deal.”
“No big deal? Is that what you said? Hardly.” Luke’s voice overflowed with pride. “I’ve a lot of work to catch up.”
“I guess you helped Luke after his accident.”
“That’s how we met, but I’m not his therapist. Just a friend.”
Then, as if a thought struck her, Claire said, “Was it…right after?”
Before Abby answered, Luke said, “May I speak to you privately, Claire? Excuse us, Abby. I’ll be right back.”
“Nice meeting you, Claire,” Abby said.
“Same here,” Claire responded as Luke spirited her away.
Abby drank her coffee until he returned. Alone. And silent. This time he sat next to her rather than across the table. He kissed her on the cheek.
“She thought we were having an affair while you were still married, didn’t she?”
“Yup.”
“And you set her straight.”
“Yup.”
“Is that all?”
“Yup.”
“Is she pretty? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It’s too stupid and petty of me to ask, and it doesn’t matter.”
Luke’s hand curled around hers. “No, it doesn’t.”
They finished their coffee and browsed the audio tapes. Luke read off the titles of the latest books, and Abby selected a few to purchase. He bought a Lincoln biography. On the way home, neither mentioned Claire. Abby wanted to ask what he said to her but decided it was none of her business. Instead, when they got home, conversation ranged from the state of the world to blind running, accompanied by a pitcher of Luke’s mouthwatering margaritas.
“Uh-oh,” Abby said. “My doorbell. Three times means Lucy. She has a key.” Abby wasn’t ready for Lucy to meet Luke, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
“Who’s Lucy?”
“My mother.”
“Oh, Jeez.”
“Don’t worry, she’s not an ordinary mother. One thing, she doesn’t know about the break-ins or the emails or Daisy, and I’d like to keep it that way. Even though I like having her around, she’d be here all the time, which is too much. So don’t say a word. Daisy pulled me back from a car and it hit her in the head. She’s spending a couple of days at the vet’s, okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
Lucy barreled through the door talking a blue streak and stopped short when she saw Luke sitting on the sofa.
“Oh, sorry, honey, I didn’t know you had company.”
Of course that wasn’t so, since Luke parked his SUV in the driveway. But if Lucy wanted to play it that way, so be it.
“Lucy, this is Luke McCallister. Luke, my mother, Lucy Gallant.”
Lucy obviously didn’t connect Luke with the email from a couple of months earlier. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I brought dinner. Fortunately, there’s enough for three.”
“Great.” Abby assumed Luke didn’t have other plans, because he made no effort to leave. Fine with her. She wanted him to stay.
“How long have you two known each other, Luke? Abby never tells me anything.”
When Luke didn’t answer, Abby realized Lucy spoke with her back to him. “He can’t hear you, Lucy. He’s deaf. Talk so he can read your lips.”
“Oh now I remember—the e-mailer.” She repeated her question by slowly over-pronouncing the words, and loud enough to be heard in Charlotte.
He laughed. “You don’t have to do anything special, Lucy. Speak naturally. I read lips pretty well. You don’t have to shout either. It makes no difference.”