Twisted Creek

by Jodi Thomas

  No matter how much Luke wanted to get downstairs to check on Allie and Nana, he’d do his job. He owed it to Nathan.

  Finally, when they were the only two in the room, Nathan said, “I wasn’t standing in enough cover. I’d stepped out too far. The lights of that car caught me before I could step back.”

  Luke gripped Nathan’s good shoulder. “The lesson almost cost you your life.”

  Nathan nodded. His voice shook slightly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “You’re a better agent now than you were four hours ago.” Luke could think of a few hard lessons he’d learned over the past ten years. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I could have made the same mistake. In that blackness it was hard to tell how far away from cover you were. If the car had been going the other way, its lights would have flashed on me.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so,” Luke answered. “If I’d been caught in the light, you’d have been the one who made the jump toward the bad guy and then you’d have had to carry me.”

  “I would have,” Nathan answered without hesitation.

  “I know. That’s why I’d partner with you again, anytime.”

  Nathan looked tired and still in pain, but he smiled. “Thanks, Morgan.”

  Luke straightened. “Anytime.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, then Nathan, almost asleep, said he’d see Luke tomorrow.

  Luke saluted a sleeping comrade and left the room.

  He forced himself to walk slowly down the hall even though he wanted to run. It seemed a hundred years since he’d kissed Allie in the tiny office this morning. The longing for her was an ache deep inside. Reason told him she wasn’t hurt bad. She’d driven to the hospital. She was being released tonight.

  But reason could be wrong.

  When he stepped off the elevator, his blood pressure jumped at the sight of the empty chair where he’d left Willie less than half an hour ago.

  Luke walked over to the chair and stared. Not only Willie, but Mary Lynn and Paul were gone.

  “Looking for something, mister?”

  The girl at the desk had been replaced by a blonde looking five years younger than the one before, but no brighter.

  “I’m looking for my friends.”

  “Old guy who smelled like fish?”

  Luke raised an eyebrow, wondering if hospitals kicked people out for smelling bad. “Yes,” he said as he walked closer. There couldn’t be two men running around hospital halls after midnight who fit that description.

  The blonde grinned like she’d just gotten a question right on Jeopardy!. “He left with a couple.” The emergency waiting room was empty but she busily sorted papers.

  “Any idea where they went?”

  “They followed a woman we released. Oh, yeah, the old man said they were going to ICU.”

  Luke didn’t bother to say thank you. He stormed down the hallway not caring that his boots echoed off the walls. Two left turns later, he spotted a sign pointing to ICU. Willie slept on a bench beneath the sign. Paul and Mary Lynn waited just outside the door a few feet farther down. They all turned as he neared as if they expected him.

  “What’s wrong?” Luke asked the question, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  Mary Lynn spoke. “We’re just waiting for Allie to come out. Even though it’s late, we finally talked the nurse into letting her just look in on Nana. Allie promised not to make a sound and the nurse said she’d allow it if only Allie stepped in.”

  Luke faced the closed door and stared through a tiny window, his tired gaze searching for Allie amid the equipment-packed hallway.

  She stood thirty feet away, staring into a glass room. He couldn’t see Nana. He didn’t have to. He could see Allie’s heart breaking. Her clothes were dirty and torn. Her hair wild. Her face wet with unchecked tears. Her world was splintering and she stood all alone.

  Every muscle in his body tightened. He wanted to rush to her and pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be all right. Deep down he felt the need to protect her, but he knew he couldn’t. He blamed himself for what had happened. He knew she’d blame it on the bad luck she thought followed her. She wouldn’t understand that if she hadn’t been waiting on that dock, Skidder might have run right past Jefferson’s Crossing. Allie wouldn’t be bandaged and Nana wouldn’t be in ICU if he hadn’t made the date.

  Paul stood beside Luke, giving him the facts in a low voice. “Allie’s only got a few cuts. She’s fine. Nana lost a lot of blood, but they’re just keeping her here for a few days to run some tests.”

  Luke braced his hands on the door frame, fighting not to shove his way through. He knew if he held her now, he’d never be able to let her go and he still had a job to finish.

  Luke shoved away from the door. “Can you get Allie and Willie home?”

  “Of course.”

  “I need to file a few reports and have a talk with the men being brought in.”

  “I understand. Don’t worry about Allie.” Paul hesitated as if knowing his question was anything but simple. “Don’t you want to stay to talk to her?”

  “No,” he said, trying not to sound as tortured as he felt. “I’ll get the work done first. Tell her I’ll see her later.”

  Walking away was the hardest thing Luke had ever done in his life.

  Chapter 42

  I don’t remember the drive home or the shower I must have taken. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I think I cried until I had no energy left to worry about being lonely.

  The morning blinked into my bedroom and I rolled over, welcoming the day for a moment before I realized Nana wasn’t with me. I forced myself out of bed and dressed without paying any attention to what I wore. Then, finding comfort in routine, I went downstairs and made the coffee.

  The kitchen didn’t feel right without Nana and the wonderful smells of her cooking. I flipped the first cabinet door open and began following her recipe for buttermilk biscuits.

  She’d always made it look so easy, but it wasn’t. I had to roll the dough into a ball and start over three times. The first time it stuck to the counter because I forgot to put flour down first, the second I rolled it almost pizza-thin. By the third try the dough felt leathery, but it at least looked right.

  I’d forgotten to write down how to cut the biscuits. I knew she used an old glass, but which one? The juice glasses looked too little, the tumblers were too big. I finally settled on an old glass Nana always called the snuff glass, even though I’d never seen snuff. I used a little bacon grease from a can Nana kept on the back of the stove to oil the pan, flipped the biscuits over in the thin film of grease, and shoved them in the oven.

  If I keep busy, I told myself, I won’t think about all that happened last night. The hospital told me not to show up until nine, so I had a few hours to kill. I promised myself I wouldn’t spend them crying.

  I fried up sausage patties and slipped them into the hot biscuits, then set a tray on the counter ready for customers.

  When I opened the front door and looked at the dried blood on the steps, the night’s horror came back to me with sledgehammer force. I grabbed the mop and ran water so hot it steamed when I stepped out into the cold morning air.

  As I scrubbed the blood away, I remembered a story Nana used to tell me about when she and Flo had been playing once. Flo had fallen and cut her knee. Nana said she cried twice as hard as Flo did. Nana said, “I wished I could take the hurt from her. I wished it had been my blood pouring out.”

  I knew how Nana felt. I’d give anything if this was my blood, not Nana’s, on the steps.

  I glanced over at the railing where we’d taped Skidder last night and wondered what happened to him. I remembered Mary Lynn said something about Luke taking care of him last night. She said he would be all night questioning the three drug dealers, but he told her to tell me that he’d rather be with me.

  I wasn’t sure I believed him. Pieces of Mary Lynn�
��s words drifted into my mind in no particular order.

  There had been three, not one on the north shore last night. Skidder had been one more than I’d wanted to see. I couldn’t help but wonder what damage the other two had done.

  As I tossed the water from the bucket into the morning glory vines at the side of the porch, I heard a car barreling down the road. It swung into my graveled drive.

  The sheriff looked like a drag racer as he took the curve, then scattered rocks as he corrected, heading like a torpedo toward me.

  I stepped back, fearing he didn’t have enough time to brake. Two feet from the steps, he stopped.

  The sheriff jumped from his car with more speed than I thought the big man could produce. He stormed the steps of the porch like a raider. Three feet from the door, he looked up, saw me, and frowned.

  “What happened here last night?” He spit the words at me.

  Before I could answer he added, “Why didn’t someone let me know? This is my territory. I’m the one who should have been called, not the ATF.”

  He jerked off his hat and wiped sweat from his face.

  I glanced at the door, trying to figure out if I could run inside and bolt it before he could block me. Probably not. Even if I made it, he’d just bust the lock and follow me in.

  I took a deep breath. “A man tried to steal my van. He held a knife on me and cut Nana bad.”

  Sheriff Fletcher huffed and puffed. “I don’t give a damn about that, what about the drug bust? The dispatcher said there was a report of arrests out here last night. Said an agent was shot.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Of course you do. Every one of the fleas who hang out on this dog of a lake comes here to talk.”

  I knew I should tell him all I knew, but in doing so I’d have to mention his son and I didn’t want to be around when Fletcher got that news. “Mary Lynn told me Luke had them locked up and planned to question them.”

  Fletcher leaned in closer, glaring at me. “Luke who?”

  This I could tell him. “Luke Morgan, the ATF agent who lives next door.” I pointed to the stand of trees. “You’ve met him.”

  “That bum is an agent.” The sheriff’s face seemed to sunburn suddenly. “I knew something wasn’t right about that guy.” He turned and stormed toward his car. “I’ll straighten him out. I’m the one who should be questioning any troublemakers, not him. Luke Morgan is going to have some explaining to do.”

  He glanced back at me. “I’ll want to talk to you later, so stay put.”

  I hated his whole attitude. “Am I under cabin arrest?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, girl, or you’ll be sorry.”

  “I’m not a girl.” I almost wished he would arrest me and take me along. I had a feeling when he finally caught up with Luke, the sheriff wouldn’t be walking so tall.

  He swore and climbed back in his car.

  Suddenly, I could wait no longer. “Stay put” wasn’t in my vocabulary. I ran into the store and left a note by the biscuits. I grabbed the van keys Paul had left on the nail after he’d followed Mary Lynn and me home last night, and headed for the hospital.

  Thirty minutes later, I walked into the ICU waiting room and spotted my mother pestering the volunteer at the help desk.

  Carla looked up and saw me. “There.” She pointed to me, but spoke to the volunteer. “There is my daughter. She’ll tell you I’m kin to Edna Daniels.”

  I slowly crossed the room to the desk, but didn’t say a word to anyone. A man stood with his back to me. When I reached the desk, I recognized Garrison D. Walker, even without his too-many-teeth smile.

  “Pardon me.” The woman at the desk with a name tag that read “Miss Deanne” looked up at me. “Are you Allie Daniels?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “We allow only immediate family in, and on Mrs. Daniels’s chart, we have only your name. This woman says she’s your mother.”

  Miss Deanne looked uncomfortable. Family feuds were not in her job description.

  “That’s right, she was.” I smiled at the volunteer. “She gave me up when I was three.”

  Now Deanne looked like she was considering turning in her volunteer smock.

  Carla braced like she was preparing to slug it out to get in to see a woman she hadn’t cared about in years.

  Bless Garrison D. Walker’s heart, he stepped between us and said in a voice perfect for the courtroom, “Is there a place we can talk in private?”

  Miss Deanne jumped up, happy to move the problem away from her desk. “Follow me. We have a family room.”

  I thought of commenting that Carla and I didn’t belong in such a room, but I figured I’d made enough of a scene. With Deanne leading the way, we crossed the waiting room.

  I was at the door when I glanced back and saw Luke storming through the crowd toward me. He didn’t seem to see anyone in the room. He walked right up to me and lifted me off the ground in a huge hug.

  I melted against him. The first good thing since dawn had just happened to me.

  He finally lowered me back to the ground, but his arm stayed around my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “I just had a scratch last night.” I brushed my hand over his shirt. “How about you?”

  “I’m fine.” He winked. “A little tired from banging heads together.” He leaned down and kissed my nose. “I missed our date last night.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay, things get in the way.” I tried to keep my words light, but there was nothing casual about the hold I had on him.

  Carla’s sharp voice sliced through the air. “Can we break this up? I’ve got a few important things to talk about with my daughter.” She glanced at Luke from his muddy boots to his stained shirt. “If you and mud man can pull apart long enough for me to have a few words with you.”

  My hand slid down Luke’s arm to his hand. “He’s staying,” I said simply as I stepped into the room.

  Garrison Walker seemed to think he had been appointed referee. He paced between us for a moment, then said, “Now, Miss Allie, I realize I’ve led you to believe that the lake property is yours, but your mother has brought a few facts to light that I didn’t consider before. It seems she is the only one of the two of you who ever met Jefferson Platt and he did name her as the person to be notified when he died. So, I feel it only fair to consider the possibility that Mr. Platt meant to leave the place to her. At his age, a mistake like that wouldn’t be impossible.”

  “I don’t think so.” I made up my mind that second that I’d rather see lawyers get every inch of Jefferson’s Crossing than allow my mother to take it from me.

  Walker remained calm. “She said Mr. Platt wouldn’t have even known of you if she hadn’t spent the day visiting with him. I’m sure there is some arrangement we can come to here that will be fair to all.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. I had to ask, “Why’d you stop at his place, Carla? Surely it wasn’t by chance.” The fact that she’d been there had bothered me since she mentioned it.

  She smiled smugly, as if giving away a secret. “Do you remember those dumb postcards Nana used to get now and then? The ones with paintings of the masters on one side and only the word ‘remember’ written next to her address?”

  I closed my eyes, seeing the cards taped to the inside cabinet door. I never thought to see if anything was written on the back. That must have been where I first began to love art. I don’t remember her ever getting them in the mail, but she might have because every now and then a new one would appear.

  Carla looked haughty. “My father finally made her throw them away. He said they were just clutter. But I found one she’d stuck in her Bible. I took it, thinking it must mean something to her because you know how Nana always was about her Bible. I stuck it in my high school yearbook because if she looked for the card she’d never think to look there. A few years ago, I found it, but this card didn’t just have ‘remember’ written on the back.”
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br />   She paused for effect, like some small-time actress overdoing the scene. “It had a route number out of the Lubbock post office. I figured it had to be some old family friend or relative, so I dropped by the next time I was in Dallas. I told him my father had died and my mother was all alone and having to take care of you. He seemed real interested until I told him I wasn’t sure about your address. I told him you and Nana were moving around like gypsies and I didn’t have time to keep up with you. After that, the old man almost tossed me off the place.”

  I grinned. “I always knew Uncle Jefferson was a fine judge of character.”

  “He was a bum,” Carla snapped. “Some friend of the family, he showed no interest in investing in a plan I had that would have made us both rich. All he wanted to do was ask questions about you and Nana.”

  I never met Jefferson, but I could almost see him talking to Carla long enough to figure out what she was and then asking her to leave.

  “So you see, Allie,” Walker said as he turned to me, “if it wasn’t for your mother you wouldn’t have this place.”

  “I disagree,” Luke said from behind me. “I think Jefferson Platt knew and loved Allie all her life. He just lost track of her at some point.”

  “Stay out of this,” Carla snapped. “This is none of your business.”

  Walker raised an eyebrow at Luke. “Who are you, sir?”

  “I’m Luke Morgan.” Luke reached around me and offered his hand. “Sorry for the outfit, but I’ve been dealing with a gang running drugs out at Twisted Creek. I’m an agent for the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms.” Both Carla’s and Walker’s mouths dropped open. “But I’m here as a friend of Allie’s and because my grandfather and Jefferson were best friends.” He let the introduction sink in for a moment before he added, “I have proof Jefferson knew Allie all her life.”

  “I’d like to see that.” Carla folded her arms. “The old guy never said a word to me.”