by Linz, Cathie
“Who is he?”
Angel shook her head. “I don’t want to say, because I don’t want her to know.”
“But you know?”
“Yes, although I haven’t had contact with him in thirty years. But I did see his picture in the paper recently.”
“How recently?”
“Right before I came here in October.”
“Why was he in the paper?”
“He was closing some big deal, merging two companies together and putting lots of people out of work. He’s my worst nightmare.”
“Why?”
“Because he has the money to take my daughter away from me.”
“Doesn’t he have a family of his own?”
She shook her head. “He’s been married twice but has no kids.”
“Julia is an adult. Why would he try to take her from you?”
“You’re asking me logical questions, and I don’t deal well with logic.” Her voice reflected her agitation. “I’m telling you how I feel, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want her knowing who he is,” Angel continued. “I should never have said anything. She was right when she said I was only telling her now to get rid of some of the guilt I was feeling. That I didn’t think about how she’d feel with all this dumped on her. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” Angel jumped up from the bench. “Maybe I should leave. She’s going to want me to leave.” She looked around. “But where would I go?”
“Calm down.” Tyler tugged her back down onto the bench. “Don’t make assumptions.”
“Maybe if I were a better mother . . . Wait, I could do that. I could become more the kind of mother she always wanted. Maybe that would make it up to her.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“More conservative. More normal. I could do that. How hard can it be? I could wear khakis and polo shirts with little logos and get my fingernails manicured. I could fit in instead of always standing out. Don’t you think?”
“You’re a free spirit. You were meant to stand out.”
“Not if it hurts my daughter,” Angel said fiercely. “I’ve already hurt her enough. I’ve got to make it up to her somehow.”
“Maybe the best way to do that is to tell her the name of her father.”
“No.” She nervously fingered her hand-knit scarf. “That’s the one thing I can’t do.”
“She’s going to find out on her own.”
“How can she do that? I didn’t tell her much, just his first name.”
“And where you met?”
“At a party. That’s nothing . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I may have mentioned us taking an Ethics class together at UCLA.”
“That could give her a lead.”
“What can I do?”
“Tell her everything.”
“No, I can’t. I’m too much of a coward to do that. He’ll take her away, show her that world and—”
“She’s not a kid anymore. She’s capable of making her own decisions.”
“I know she is. She’d love him more than me,” Angel whispered.
“She doesn’t even know him.”
“But she’s like him in small ways. Planning ahead. Never letting go and letting fate take you where it will.”
“Most people are that way.”
“I know. But I didn’t raise Julia to be most people. I raised her to be my daughter. Mine,” Angel said fiercely, “and no one else’s!”
“The time may have come for you to share.”
“He’ll hurt her. I know he will. I’ve seen it in the runes, in the tarot cards, in every medium I’ve used.”
“Maybe you’re seeing what you want to see.”
“Why would I want to see my daughter hurt?”
“Because it gives you a good reason to keep her from her father.”
“I don’t need more reasons. I need to think like Julia. I need to have a plan. I need to become the mother she’s always wanted.”
“You think transforming yourself into June Cleaver is going to solve your problems?”
“No, but it certainly can’t hurt.”
“Lies hurt.”
“So does the truth,” Angel noted sadly.
Julia had never really understood that reference to ignoring the elephant in the middle of the room until now. For the past week, Angel had been acting as if nothing had changed. No, that wasn’t true. She was trying to be on her best behavior. She’d traded in her colorful billowing clothes for tailored khaki pants and bland tops. But she refused to give Julia the information she wanted—the name of her father.
The rift between them meant Julia spent a lot of time away from home, either at Luke’s or at work or at Pam’s. Today she and Pam were venturing out for another of their Saturday antiquing expeditions.
Pam was bent over a glass display case with a selection of 1950s clip earrings. Julia had yet to tell her about the bombshell her mother had dropped on her on New Year’s Eve. She wasn’t exactly sure why. The time just wasn’t right yet. For now, other than her family, Luke was the only one who knew.
Julia also hadn’t talked to Pam about Luke. Pam had been busy preparing for a new batch of weddings, so their conversation had focused on that when they’d been together the past week.
“See something you like?” the shop owner asked.
Pam shook her head. “Just looking.”
This particular antique mall was filled with quilts, baskets, primitive furniture, stained glass, pottery, and trunks, but their jewelry was the reason Pam liked this spot.
“You seem unusually quiet today,” Pam said as they wandered around the rest of the booths, searching for treasures. “Everything okay with you and Luke?”
Julia nodded.
“Ah, so you’re no longer denying that there is something going on between the two of you.”
Julia ran her fingers over the smooth patina of an oak student chair. “This is nice.”
“Julia . . .” Pam complained.
“What?”
“You. Luke. Details?”
“It’s been . . . good.” The sex had been awesome. She and Luke had spent most nights together, making love. They’d been discreet. Most mornings she was back in her own house with no one aside from her own family the wiser.
“Good, huh?”
Julia grinned and nodded. “Mind-blowing.”
Pam picked up on that instantly. “You mean you two have . . . ?”
Julia nodded again.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.”
Julia had to tell someone about her feelings for Luke, and she certainly wasn’t going to confide in her family.
“Why didn’t you say anything before this?” Pam demanded.
“I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news.”
“Are you happy?”
Julia nodded.
“Then I’m happy for you.” Pam paused a moment before adding, “Has he told you how long he plans on staying in town?”
“What do you mean?” Julia set down the vintage wooden sign she’d been looking at.
“Just that the town has a pool going as to when he’s going to sell Maguire’s.”
“Sell it? Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s always hated Serenity Falls.”
“In the past, maybe.”
“He’s told you he plans on staying?”
“We haven’t really talked about it,” Julia admitted.
“You might want to.” Pam gave her a worried look. “Before you get in too deep.”
It was already too late for that, Julia knew. But she kept an outwardly calm expression as she checked out an oak post top. “What do you think about using this as a paper-weight?”
“That would work. But what about Luke?”
“What about him?”
“Where do you see this relationship with him going?”
“I have no idea.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?�
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Julia nodded. “Freaks me out totally.”
“Really? You don’t look freaked out.”
“You have no idea.”
“Because you won’t tell me.”
“Because I can’t.”
“He won’t let you?”
“No, of course not. I meant it’s not easy for me to talk about personal stuff.”
“I had noticed that about you.”
“Yeah, well I guess it comes from my upbringing. My mother always wore her emotions like a huge neon sign around her neck. And my sister has no discretion at all. She says whatever comes into her mind, no matter what it is or whom she’s speaking to.”
“How have you been getting along with your family?”
“We’re having some . . . problems at the moment.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Julia shook her head.
“You can talk to me, you know. Anything you said would go no further.”
“I know that.” Telling her about Luke had been hard enough. Confiding that she didn’t even know her father’s name was too much for Julia to handle at the moment.
“I mean, I realize that a lot of people in Serenity Falls talk and gossip. It’s one of the perils of living in a small town. Everyone knowing everyone else’s business.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“But I wouldn’t betray your confidence in any way.” Pam’s expression was serious. “I certainly won’t tell anyone about things between you and Luke.”
“I appreciate that.”
Pam gave her a hug and then asked, “Hey, are you ready for lunch?”
Julia nodded. “Absolutely. Only this time I’m going to order something different.”
“You are?”
“Yes. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’m tired of being so predictable. No more boring good girl. A new Julia has come to town, so Serenity Falls had better watch out.”
“Sounds like I should get you one of those Danger: Rowdy Librarian T-shirts,” Pam noted with a grin.
Julia grinned right back at her. “Maybe you should.”
“Tyler.” Luke confronted the handyman at Maguire’s, where he was repairing a sticky door to the men’s room. “Let’s talk.”
Tyler eyed him suspiciously. “What for?”
Luke couldn’t blame him. Talking wasn’t Luke’s favorite pastime. He’d rather chew nails than make polite conversation. But he didn’t plan on discussing the weather with Tyler.
“You said you wanted a naked woman,” Tyler reminded him.
Luke frowned. “What?”
Tyler pointed to the mural he’d been sporadically working on for the past few weeks. It was an abstract, and Luke really hadn’t been paying that much attention to it.
“You told me you wanted a naked woman on the mural,” Tyler said. “I asked. You answered.”
“This isn’t about the mural.”
“It’s not?”
“No. It’s about you.”
“What about me?” was the question a normal person would ask. But Tyler didn’t say a word. Instead, his expression closed down and his eyes went cold.
Luke said, “I know about your life back in Chicago.”
“And I know about yours with the FBI,” Tyler shot back unexpectedly. “Guess that makes us even.”
Chapter Fourteen
“No, it does not make us even,” Luke growled. “Where do you get off sniffing around in my past?”
“I could ask the same thing of you.”
“I wanted to be sure you weren’t a pervert or an escaped convict or something.”
“Same here.”
“Well, hell.” Luke pivoted and marched over to the bar, where he grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. It was Monday, and Maguire’s was closed. He poured himself a generous shot and another for Tyler. “To keeping the past in the past,” Luke toasted him.
“Where it should be,” Tyler added.
Luke let the strong spirits hit his gut before he had to ask, “Don’t you find it hard leaving that life behind?”
“What life? I lived for my job. Prosecutor of the year on the fast track to success. Until that last case.”
Luke knew what case it was, but he wasn’t going to be the one to bring up the details. “And after that you just walked away?”
“Burnt out. Still am.”
“But a hell of a painter,” Luke noted with a grin.
Tyler’s smile was slower but equally mocking. “Yeah.”
They paused to drink the remainder of their Jack Daniel’s. “I’m not the only one who walked away,” Tyler said. “So did you.”
“Yeah.”
“So when did you lift my prints?”
“A few weeks ago. They were behind at the lab, so I didn’t get the intel back until today. How about you?”
“Oh, I sent in your prints the first week you were in town. Got the results within forty-eight hours.”
“You’ve got better connections than I do.”
“I don’t use them often. I try to leave that world behind.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
Luke wanted to leave it behind, too. In the beginning, there had been the adrenaline rush of shouldering through a door, gun drawn, all set to save the world. He’d worked all-night stakeouts, sat on wiretaps, and maneuvered the FBI’s paperwork jungle with ease. But as time went on and his undercover work increased, he’d eventually lost himself.
There hadn’t been just one incident like in Tyler’s case. No, it had been a cumulative thing, until Luke had woken one morning and known he couldn’t go on. Broke, battered, and bruised from a bar fight the night before, he’d gotten out before it was too late, before he got someone killed.
The citations he’d gotten during his time in the FBI didn’t really matter, because the bottom line was that he’d failed in the end. Something his old man had always told him he excelled at.
So here he was, stuck in Maguire’s, talking to another guy who’d burnt out and dropped out. “Listen, Tyler, you know Angel pretty well, right?”
Tyler looked suspicious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did she tell you about the situation between her and Julia?”
“She might have.”
“Discreet to the end, huh? Your legal training is showing.”
Tyler made no comment.
“Julia wants to track down her real father,” Luke said.
“And you’re helping her.”
Luke just shrugged, neither denying nor confirming it. “Did Angel tell you who Julia’s father is?”
“No. And even if she did, I wouldn’t betray her confidence by telling anyone else.”
“Yeah, I figured that’s what you’d say, but it was worth a shot.”
“I’m surprised you’re getting involved in this. I thought your modus operandi was to play the loner and keep out of other people’s business.”
“That works pretty well for you.”
“I get by.”
“So do I.”
“Except where Julia is concerned. Algee says she’s your kryptonite.”
“My weakness, yeah, I know. He’s taken great pleasure in telling me that, too.”
“What are you going to do about it? About her?”
“I don’t make many plans these days.”
“Understood.”
“What are you going to do about Angel?”
“Like you said, I don’t make many plans these days, either. Change of subject. That mural I’m doing . . . you get any complaints?”
“The art critic from the New York Times said it had a certain amateurish quality, but what does he know?” Luke retorted.
“Yeah, right. I meant from Walt.”
“What does our illustrious mayor have to do with anything?”
“He wants to control everything in this town.”
“No surprise there.”
“Walt won’t be happy you’re putting a mural of a nude on your walls
.”
“It’s not like it’s a layout from Playboy, although now that I think of it, that might have been a good idea . . .” Luke grinned at the very concept. “We could have run a wet T-shirt contest to find the right model for it.”
“Yeah, right. You’re gonna be in enough hot water as it is.”
Luke shrugged. “Nothing new for me.”
“I heard that Walt may be planning to bring it up in next month’s town meeting.”
“The mural?”
“Among other things.”
“Do I look like I care?” Luke retorted.
“He’s very anal about this Best Small Town thing.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Luke noted. “But enough chit-chat. Time to get back to work. I’ve got something called accounts payable to work out, and you’ve got a door to fix.”
A week later, Luke looked up from the bar to find Angel standing there, a white apron around her waist like the other Maguire’s servers wore. “I need two Flirtinis and two Samuel Adams on tap.”
Luke frowned. “For you?” That was a lot of alcohol for one female to consume at once.
Angel laughed. “No, of course not. For tables five and nine.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously.
“Helping you out. I heard you were short-staffed with two of your servers coming down with the flu. So I thought I’d step in and see what it’s like being a server. I haven’t done something like this since my college days, you know.”
“Excuse me.” A guy at a nearby table waved in their direction. “I didn’t order this. I ordered the pot roast.”
“I know you did,” Angel replied, “but the halibut is much better for your arteries.”
“I don’t like fish.”
“You just haven’t had it prepared correctly. Our cook does an excellent job—”
“Yeah, she does,” the guy interrupted her. “On pot roast. Which is what I want.”
“Fine.” Angel yanked the plate off the table and marched into the kitchen. A few moments later she returned and just about tossed the meal on the table before him. “There. Eat it and die.”
“Okay then . . .” Luke hurried out from behind the bar. “I really think you’ve done enough here for one day, Angel.”