Secret Desire

by Gwynne Forster

  Luke leaned back in his desk chair and waited. He had to control the urge to pace the floor, because Axel Strange could misconstrue that as nervousness if he walked in and saw it. Axel had a way of showing his disdain for authority by walking past Luke’s secretary and entering his office door without knocking for permission. Anyway, he wasn’t nervous, just so mad he could barely wait to let the man know how close he was to endangering his job.

  Nineteen minutes. One more, and he’d give him a week’s walking leave. The door opened and he stared at Axel Strange, his hands up as though in surrender and his face wreathed in smiles.

  “You believe in living on the edge, don’t you? You know what happens to detectives caught loafing when they’re on duty, and you know the penalty is even stiffer for officers. You’re entitled to three warnings in the course of your career.”

  Axel’s sharp intake of breath betrayed his fear that he might have gone too far. “You…you’re not serious, are you?”

  Luke swung his fountain pen in rhythmic taps on his desk. “You’re the one who’s not serious. Tell me why you shouldn’t have an official warning? Suppose other officers ignored the rules. What would you recommend for them?”

  “Look, man, I was just passing by, and—”

  “Can that. You were on your knees, shelving books.”

  He knew the minute Axel decided to go on the attack. “What I did was nothing. Let’s get to the real problem. You’re afraid I’ll muscle in on your turf. If she wants me, I’m going for her, and your threats won’t deter me for a second.”

  “You’re bordering on insubordination.”

  Axel raised his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. “It’s your word against mine.”

  Luke allowed himself a hard, cold smile. “Right. How many warnings have you had?”

  “None.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable.

  “I wonder how that happened,” Luke said under his breath. Aloud he said, “Be careful you don’t get three more.”

  Axel lunged toward the desk, and then caught himself, his breathing accelerated and fear glistening in his eyes. “You wouldn’t!”

  Luke continued tapping his Mont Blanc pen. “I just did. Next time you get out of line, be sure it isn’t with me. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.” If he’d let him get away with it, he’d be impossible to control.

  He hadn’t expected Axel’s brazen pursuit of Kate. The man usually fought more deviously. Not that he planned to engage him. If Kate’s suspicions proved valid that her in-laws had hired a man, perhaps more than one, to ruin her business or to frighten her into closing it, she’d need his protection. And he couldn’t stay on his toes if burdened with an overactive libido.

  The next day he parked in front of Kate’s bookstore and left the motor running to make certain he got out of there in a hurry. He wanted to get to Caution Point in time for dinner, and it was already five-thirty. He also didn’t want too much of Kate’s company. She had a way of easing herself into him, revving up his engine and messing around in his head, and she did it with the smoothness of a falcon winging toward the clouds.

  “Did you remember my gingerbread?” he asked when she greeted him. He tried not to see the warmth in her flawless complexion, or the temptation of her large, oval, brown eyes and sensuous lips. Everything about her promised him the moon, if he’d just take it. Her smile, so warm and natural, sent fire skittering through him, and he feared she’d hear his pounding heart.

  “I hope it’s as good as Miss Fanny’s,” she said. “I’ve been making it since I was little.”

  “Not to worry. If it’s gingerbread, I eat it. I’ll be out of town over the weekend, so here’s my cell-phone number in case you need me.” Or, in case you’d like to talk with me, his conscience jeered. He thought for a minute. “Try to close up earlier tomorrow night—say, seven-thirty, along with the other merchants on this block. Trick the criminals.”

  She promised she would, and he left, though it cost him more willpower than he would have imagined needing. As he drove away, he glanced at the store and saw her standing at the door. He’d noticed on other occasions that she always watched him leave her, and he wondered what it meant.

  Kate knew she watched him because she loved the rhythm of his long strides, seemingly carefree. Taking that at face value could get her into difficulty, she knew, because Luke Hickson was not a happy-go-lucky man. She’d learned, too, that his eyes had a crinkle and a glint that could fool her into thinking he was about to break into a smile. But she knew she’d better wait until he actually laughed. That crinkle and glint could get a person into trouble.

  She set the buzzer and went into her office. Business was slow, and she had to create some excitement. She wanted the store to become a place where people hung out, a kind of cultural center. She’d thought of putting two round, marble-top tables in the front and serving coffee, but discarded the idea. With one cup of coffee and a magazine, a person could occupy a table for hours. A reading group. She’d sponsor one, and give the members a fifteen-percent discount on books.

  She bit into a piece of gingerbread. If Luke said he’d tasted better, she wouldn’t believe him. She posted a sign-up sheet on the wall to enroll customers in the reading group and answered the door.

  “How may I help you?” she asked the woman, a stranger.

  The woman produced a business card. “My first romance novel is just out, and I was wondering if you’d like me to sign your stock.”

  Her stock! She had three copies of Duckie’s Love Gone Wild, and if she sold one of them, autographed or not, she’d be lucky. With its hideous cover, customers didn’t even turn it over to read the blurb. She sympathized with the woman, who had to feel terrible about that cover, so she gave her a chair and brought her a bottle of lemonade. If only the woman would drink it, so she wouldn’t see her getting the books from the bottom shelf in the section next to Horror and Different Strokes, a euphemism for same sex.

  “You only have three?” the author asked. “This is fabulous. You’ve sold all the rest. I suppose you’ll order some more?”

  Kate made it a policy not to lie except to save somebody from excruciating pain, and she nearly shouted for joy when the buzzer rang and she didn’t have to answer. That joy was short-lived, however, when she saw Axel Strange.

  She introduced him to the author, hoping to divert his attention from her, but he had charm enough for both women. And, to her chagrin, he was the first person to sign up for the reading group, and she immediately lost interest in the idea.

  “This is a gas,” he said. “I love reading and discussing books.”

  Was that so? Well, he could prove it. “In that case, you’d value a book signed especially for you by the author herself. Ms. Gray is signing books.”

  As she’d expected, he made a show of getting the book, engaging the woman in a long conversation about his own writing plans, and questioning her about writing—how she got started, and how long it took to write a book. When Ms. Gray showed signs of exasperation, she called him off.

  “She’s only here for a short while, so maybe you’d like to drop her a note.” The woman blew out a long tired breath, quickly signed the remaining two books, thanked Kate, and left. Ms. Gray had evidently had as much of Axel as she could take. Unfortunately for Kate, she was stuck with him.

  “How about dinner? The River Café’s the best place around here, but I don’t walk in other men’s footprints, so we’ll go somewhere else.”

  Presumptuous, wasn’t he? “Lieutenant, I’m going home to relieve the woman who’s taking care of my son. I’ve had a long day, and I just want to relax.”

  He half frowned and half smiled in a chiding way. “Aw, Kate…I can call you Kate, can’t I? You’re not giving me half a chance. Don’t pay any attention to what old Hickson says about me, I’m—”

  She cut him off. “Lieutenant, let me tell you that Captain Hickson has never said a word to me about you. Any impression I have of you is one you’ve given m
e.”

  He ignored that barb. “Oh, be a sport. I’m enchanted with you, and you know it.” His face lit up with a smile. “I give a great massage.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You mean, you work two jobs? Does the police department know you moonlight as a masseuse?” His wounded look could only have been feigned, she decided.

  She was not going out with Axel Strange. Might as well be straightforward. “Lieutenant Strange, I’m sorry, but I’m not going out with you.”

  A smile quickly erased his suddenly cold expression, causing her to wonder whether he lacked substance. “At least you didn’t say never. Next time, okay?”

  “Good night.” She almost asked him to wait until she locked up, but thought better of it. If you gave Axel Strange an inch, he’d take a mile.

  Since there hadn’t been a customer in the last half hour, she figured she might as well close the store. She put the day’s receipts in the safe, flicked off the lights, stepped out of the front door, and locked it.

  “Give me your keys, lady.”

  Oh, Lord, not again. Fear streaked through her, but she steadied her nerves. She knew her life might depend on her staying calm. “There aren’t any keys to this store,” she lied. “My security contractor has to open it from his computer.”

  “I’m talking about your house keys, and hurry up.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a voice too strong to be hers, “but I don’t have the house keys with me. I leave them with the superintendent, because she takes care of my…my place.” She looked him in the eye, hoping to convince him.

  “Don’t give me all that crap. I mean, the keys to your house in Biddle, and I want them this minute.” He brandished something in his coat pocket that bore the shape of a handgun.

  She glimpsed the squad car as it turned the corner, its high beam headlights piercing the twilight, and dashed toward the middle of the street. The car screeched to a halt, and Officer Cowan jumped out. The man raced off down the street.

  “What’s the matter?” Cowan yelled loudly. He had a hand on each of her arms.

  She explained. “I don’t have to tell you how glad I am to see your car. The man had just started to get rough.”

  Cowan yanked off his hat and scratched his head. “He’s blocks from here now. I’ll drop you home, but I want a description. Come by the precinct tomorrow before you open the store and give me the details.”

  As Cowan drove her home, she described the man as best she could, but she didn’t mention her fear that the man knew Luke’s moves and considered her vulnerable in Luke’s absence.

  At that moment, Luke was assuring himself that he could keep Kate at arm’s length, enjoy her friendship, and leave it at that. He stopped at Dillards in Elizabeth City and bought a CD of Burl Ives songs for Amy, who had just discovered the late folksinger, and a toy rabbit for Marc. Amy didn’t like sharing her own rabbit with Marc, but she loved the child so much that she didn’t want to deny him anything. He bought a colorful set of Bambi and His Friends for Todd. The boy reminded him of Marcus as a small child, exacting a price for his cooperation. If Todd had to take a bath, he wanted as many animals in the tub with him as possible.

  His mood shifted as he drove toward Caution Point. He’d been an uncle, first to his wife’s nieces and nephews, and now to Amy, Marc and Todd. He loved all of them, but he was forty-two years old and didn’t have children of his own. He parked in front of his brother and sister-in-law’s home—the one place where his cares always seemed to take wings, as though trouble was unwelcome there—but this time a cold loneliness seeped into him. He sat in the car for some minutes after parking, willing himself to put on a cheerful visage. Finally, he got out of the car, breathed deeply and energized himself with the clean fresh smell of ocean air. He looked across Ocean Avenue at the dogwood trees adorned in pink and white blossoms, giving their trunks and limbs up to the will of the soft spring breeze. Birds chirped from the branches of the crab-apple tree beside his car, and he felt his loneliness roll off him. Amanda and the children greeted him at the door. With Amy holding one of his hands and Marc tugging on the other one, he followed Amanda to the back porch.

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “In Portsmouth. He should be getting home any minute. You didn’t see him today?”

  He stared at her. “Good grief. I told him I’d have lunch with him. I completely forgot it.”

  She looked at him as though he’d changed faces. “You forgot an appointment?” He understood her surprise. He had a reputation for having a memory like an elephant. She sat down, seemingly oblivious to having Todd examine her face and ears and yank on her hair and clothing. “Luke, you’re either working too hard on something or someone has your undivided attention.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. Amanda knew him better than the men who worked with him eight hours a day. “It’ll soon be time to open up my place on the Sound, and that guarantees me some lazy weekends for the next four months.” He reached for Todd. “Come here, fellow. It’s time you and I got to be good friends.”

  The doorbell rang three times in rapid succession, and pain shot through him as Marc and Amy ran squealing to the door and Amanda broke off her sentence in the middle and followed them. He shook it off. After years of a lean life, his brother deserved all the happiness he’d found with Amanda and their children.

  “I didn’t realize you expected to have lunch here…this evening,” Marcus said to Luke after they embraced each other.

  “Sorry about that, but I got into a set-to with Axel again, and had to straighten him out. I forgot about eating.”

  “That guy knows how to ring your bell.”

  Luke shrugged. “One day, he’ll take it too far. How’s it going at the factory?”

  Marcus glanced at his wife, his eyes afire with love for her. “Things couldn’t be better. How long you staying?”

  Luke stretched out his long legs as Amy joined him in the swing, put his arms around his niece and gently rocked. “I’m going straight from here to work Monday morning, unless—”

  “Great. Maybe we can get in some fishing while you’re here.”

  After dinner, his cell phone rang as he and Marcus cleaned the kitchen. “Captain Hickson.”

  He hadn’t expected that Cowan would have to call him about Kate, but he’d told the sergeant to keep him posted. As a detective, he’d learned to avoid the pitfalls of It might have been. He listened to Cowan’s report and wondered whether he ought to go back to Portsmouth.

  “Nothing you can do, Luke. The man ran away when he saw the squad car, and we couldn’t find him, but I turned that corner just in time.”

  “Continue to patrol that store. Good job, Sergeant.”

  “What was that about?” Marcus asked him. “Sounds like she’s more to you than a professional responsibility,” he added after hearing Luke’s story. “If she is, I’m happy for you. It’s time you got some joy in your life. Who is she?”

  Luke stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and looked toward the garden. “If she wasn’t somebody’s target—at least that’s what she thinks—I’d go for her, but I can’t let myself in for that again. I keep thinking of Eunice. She thought nothing could happen to her, that I’d keep her safe, but when she needed me, I couldn’t be there. Because she’d called me rather than 9-1-1, I lost her. I can’t live through that again. A woman loves me and believes I’m larger than life, bigger than anything that can happen to her, and calls for me because she trusts me more than any other man—more than those who could have saved her.”

  Marcus stared at him, his eyes wide in astonishment. “You care for her.”

  “Could be. I’m not sure. It’s happened so fast I can’t figure out where the heck it came from.” He eyed Marcus, who’d begun to laugh. “What’s so funny, man?”

  “You are. Have you forgotten? This thing gets you right away, and when it grabs you, you might as well quit running.”

  “If anybody can attest to that, it’s you,” Luk
e said dryly. “I never saw a man run so hard from pure heaven as you did.”

  He’d never been able to figure out how Marcus could look so innocent when he was about to wade into a person. He waited for the blow, and Marcus let him have it. “Having witnessed that, brother, it seems to me you wouldn’t waste your time running. Trust me, it’s useless, anyway. You are not responsible for Eunice’s death, so quit using that as an excuse to persecute yourself. And mark my words, if this woman gets into you, either get out of her way or enjoy it.” He winked. “I suggest the latter.”

  “You’re loaded with wisdom tonight. Excuse me while I make a phone call.”

  “Sure thing. What’s her name?”

  “Kate,” he called over his shoulder, and strode down the hall to his room.

  He dialed Kate’s home phone number and paced back and forth in his room, waiting for her to answer. Where the heck was she? Strung out with anxiety, he redialed to be sure he’d used the right number.

  “Hello.”

  “Randy. This is Captain Luke. Where’s your mother?”

  “She’s out back. Captain Luke, I have to make my first deliveries Monday.”

  He was anxious to speak with Kate, and he hoped his impatience didn’t show, because getting the boy’s confidence was proving more difficult than he’d expected. “You’ve done well, Randy. I’m proud of you.”

  “You are?”

  “You bet I am,” he said truthfully. “And you’ll be a fine role model for the boys in your group.”

  The small voice appeared uncertain. “I guess I have to try. They seem to like me.”

  So that was it. All the blustering, preening and bad manners were a cover for insecurity. Maybe he’d have to spend more time with the child.

  “Randy, of course the boys like you, and so do all of us officers.”

  “You, too?”

  He stared at the phone. “Son, the reason I insist you obey is because I want you to grow into a fine man, one people will admire and respect.”