Fatal Reunion

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Fatal Reunion Page 8

by Jessica R. Patch


  “I haven’t gotten around to remodeling this room.”

  Luke trailed behind, a foot of space between them. “Piper,” he whispered. That one word revealed his deepest empathy and impotence to fix it.

  She refused to face him. Refused to fall headlong into him. Her feelings contradicted each other. She wanted his strength and at the same time she didn’t.

  The guest bedroom to the right was as trashed as her home office.

  “It’s surreal.” All those home owners years ago. This was exactly how they’d felt walking into their sanctuary, their safe place. Beloved keepsakes. Hard-earned valuables. Gone. Nothing but ruination left in the wake of what Piper’s old friends had done—of what Piper had done.

  This had to be a divine reckoning. Punishment. More than ever, remorse filled her.

  God, I deserve this and so much more. Can You ever forgive me? I can’t.

  Scenes of broken hearts weeping—not so much over what was stolen but the frightening feelings that accompanied a burglary. All because of Piper’s mistakes.

  Her chin quivered as she slid down the wall onto the floor, drawing her knees up against her chest. “Guess I had this coming,” she choked out. She pressed her lips together, holding back sobs. “I—I need a minute alone, Luke.” Tears pooled and she widened her eyes to contain them.

  Wordlessly, he left the room and the door closed with a quiet click.

  * * *

  Luke leaned against the wall. Every hiccup and sob scraped across his heart. How could he fix someone who pushed him away? Piper was about to break, but he didn’t want to pick up pieces. He wanted to keep them from shattering. His hands jittered to reach out. To do something. To bust open the door and gather her up whether she liked it or not.

  Did he want in? Did he want to be more than a detective trying to solve a case?

  He was here, wasn’t he?

  But Piper would never let him, and it wouldn’t be wise. He needed a level head because he was certain of a couple of things: Piper didn’t murder anyone. But someone wanted him to think so. But who? And why? If she did have something, by now surely she’d have admitted it. What else could they do? The thought slicked his throat like tar.

  Luke drove his hands through his hair and gripped. God, I am so confused. Please give me some discernment. Should I believe her completely? I want to, but I’m scared she’ll destroy me again. Leave me with mud all over my face.

  Piper might not want his help, but the house begged for it, and he was a detective. Time to do what he did best. Investigate. He’d need to call the local police and see if any prints were lifted or evidence collected.

  He hustled outside, grabbed his duffel bag from the car and worked his hands into the latex gloves, then snagged a few plastic evidence bags. He made the call to the local police department and spoke with the lead detective.

  Prints had been taken but no results yet. Backed up. Same in Memphis. Too many crimes and not enough hands on deck to move quickly. Ms. Wells smiled as she walked her ball of fluff into the yard. Luke went back inside and combed the kitchen, moving from room to room.

  Nothing odd leaped out.

  The office door creaked and Piper appeared in the hall, red-rimmed eyes and pink nose. She brushed past him, trying to hide her vulnerability, her brokenness, but it was there. Running water whooshed from the bathroom sink. Piper blew her nose and came out as if nothing had happened.

  How long could she go like this?

  “You find anything?”

  “No. I called the Jackson police. Reports aren’t in yet.” He pointed down the hall. “I’m going to take a look in the backyard.”

  “I’ll come. What do you hope to find?”

  “A sign with the name of who did this on it would be great.” Luke grinned and a light, wispy laugh escaped her lips. So much better than tears. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “I hope Harmony’s safe.”

  Luke had a sick feeling, but he needed to stay positive for Piper’s sake.

  Outside, the maple leaves swayed. Fresh and green. Spring in the air. Tulips bloomed in a flower bed stretching across the front of the house. They rounded the side. The fence gate was open. “Do you normally keep that locked?”

  “Yes.”

  Luke inspected. “Someone cut it. Probably came at night.”

  “They obviously knew I was gone.”

  Luke grunted as he stalked across the spongy lawn. “I think it wouldn’t matter. Mama Jean and Christopher Baxter were home.” He stepped onto the deck. “This new?” Smelled like fresh wood.

  “I like to sit outside. The previous owners let the deck rot.”

  Yep, she was making a good life. Settling in. Remodeling. Building a deck. She even had a charcoal grill.

  “Luke?” His name came out in a hushed tone.

  He turned. She was closer than he’d expected. Her jasmine scent working its way into his senses. “Yeah.”

  “You know I didn’t kill Tyson, right?” Piper’s desperate plea for him to believe her and the fear on her face plunged into his heart. They both knew it looked grim for her. Against his better judgment, Luke caressed her velvety cheek.

  “I know. We need to find out who did. Smoke Boone out of his hole and go see Sly when he’s released from recovery.”

  Piper’s nose scrunched, her brow creased. “Recovery?”

  “I’m going to Riverbend on Monday to pay Sly a visit. He might be using Boone to do his dirty work on the outside. But someone shanked him on the basketball court before I could go last week.”

  “I’m going, too, then. I could play him to get the information we need in exchange for what he’s looking for.”

  Play him.

  Piper was a pro at that. Another stabbing slice opened up ancient wounds. He gritted his teeth. Where was the peace? Why the bitterness? “I’d like to know what it is he’s after.”

  “So would I.”

  “We’ll go together, then.” Letting Piper out of his sight wasn’t an option. When she was living here in Jackson, he at least had known she’d been safe. If someone tried to wipe her off the planet—he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over that.

  Piper went inside and Luke followed. “Guess I need to get to steppin’ because this place won’t clean itself.” Grabbing a broom, she began sweeping up the broken glass. She ran the broom under the cabinets, dropped it and squatted. “This isn’t mine.”

  Luke hovered over her. “Don’t touch it.” He yanked an evidence bag from his pocket and picked up the nearly empty cigarette box from the floor. Camel brand. Must have fallen from the intruder’s pocket. “Hope we get prints from this.” Finally a break. About time.

  Piper stood. “Doesn’t mean it’ll lead us to whoever’s behind all this.”

  No, that would be too easy. A cigarette pack wasn’t going to solve this case. And whoever was after her or trying to set her up—or both—wasn’t going to stop until he had what he wanted. They’d come after her again.

  A chill slithered down Luke’s spine.

  Piper wasn’t home free yet.

  SEVEN

  An entire box of trash bags later, Luke plopped onto Piper’s gliding rocker. His back ached and his stomach growled. He checked his watch. After nine o’ clock. Piper came through the dining room in worn jeans and a faded, thin black T-shirt, her hair in a sloppy ponytail. A few smudges of dirt splotched her cheeks and chin.

  “Do you know what time it is?” she asked and sat in the dining chair. They’d hauled the slashed couch cushions outside and piled them under the carport.

  “Feels like midnight. You hungry?”

  “Starving. I have a frozen pizza. Probably tastes like cardboard, but at this point I might even eat that.” She grinned and started to rise.

  “
I’ll do it. You haven’t rested once. Chill a few.” Luke stood, his knee cracking. Wasn’t getting any younger.

  He grinned at the magnet on her refrigerator. It read: Keep Calm and Kick On. Chuckling, he opened the freezer and pulled out a meat lover’s. He slid it in the oven and turned it on. Preheating was a suggestion, right?

  He brought her a bottle of water but stopped when it hit him she was actually resting. Eyes closed, lashes fanning her high cheekbones. Her neck bobbed when she swallowed. “Why are you staring at me?” she mumbled. “I can feel it.”

  “I was debating whether to give you this water or let you doze.” Never mind—he was enjoying the view.

  “I wasn’t asleep.” She opened her eyes and reached for the bottle. “I was thinking.”

  “Great. Thinking is good,” he teased and sat next to her.

  Piper shook her head and waved off his comment. “Sly Watson was stabbed in prison. You think that it’s coincidence? I mean with it happening now.”

  Luke didn’t believe in coincidences. Especially when it came to criminal activity. “Probably not. But if he’s behind the whole thing, it wouldn’t make any sense.”

  “Unless Boone found what he was looking for and paid someone to take care of business for him.” She drank half the water.

  Easy silence permeated the air along with baking cheese and crust. Luke rolled scenarios through his head. “Hopefully we’ll know something Monday. If Sly was working with Boone and Boone double-crossed him, he may have heaps to say.”

  They sat quietly until the oven timer beeped, and Piper threw her hand up. “I got it. If I sit too long I’ll pass out.” She went into the kitchen and Luke followed. She slid the pizza onto the cardboard and placed it on the counter. Golden-brown edges and bubbly cheese. Pepperonis held little pools of grease, sausage and beef peppered in between. Luke’s mouth watered. He must be famished when a frozen pizza sent his taste buds into overdrive.

  Piper sliced the pizza and nabbed a couple of paper plates from the pantry. Carrying their plates to the dining area, they took their time eating. Finally, Luke spoke. “If you still want to toss the cushions in the Dumpster at the dojo, we should do it tonight. You don’t want critters taking up homestead in them.”

  “Still afraid of skunks?”

  “Of getting sprayed by them? Yes. The animal itself...maybe.” He winked.

  Nodding, Piper plucked a string of cheese that had attached to her chin and hung loose. “Rain’s in the forecast anyway. You can see the dojo if you want, when we get there.”

  Luke nodded and brought the rest of the pizza to the table, snagging two more slices. “I’d like to.” To see Piper’s new life. The one with no room for him. Not that it mattered.

  “Tell me about this promotion you mentioned.” Piper helped herself to another slice.

  “You know Granddad was a lieutenant. I think he’d be proud of me following in his footsteps.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He’s never gotten over the fact I chose law enforcement over politics. But I think if I made it further up, I could do a lot for the city. Serving in a...”

  “More honest capacity.” Piper chuckled.

  Luke and his father got along, but he thought service meant from behind a desk. Granddad always said Luke was more like him than Dad ever was. Dad wasn’t corrupt, but he wasn’t beyond reproach, either. “Exactly.”

  “Sergeant Ransom.” She wadded her napkin and laid it on her empty plate. “Nice ring to it. Planning to climb the ranks to commander?”

  “Higher I climb, more I can do for the city.” If he didn’t mess up this latest case. He’d left the theft unit after the mayhem with Piper for fear he might come across her in another investigation, and he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t let her go again. And now?

  He couldn’t answer it honestly. He shoved his plate away.

  “I think your granddad would be very proud of you.” Piper stood and collected his plate. “Let me put on a jacket and we can take those cushions. I think they’ll fit in the trunk and backseat.” She trudged down the hall and came back with a black zip-up hoodie.

  After loading the cushions, they sped off to the dojo. Ten minutes later, they pulled into a small lot with a few potholes. A fairly decent-sized brick building with two glass front doors that read Kennedy Martial Arts came into view. Luke stared, not sure what he was feeling.

  Piper unlocked the door and held it open. “Come on in.” Luke entered the dark lobby area, the smell of lemon and bleach coming in full contact with his senses. Piper flipped on the light switch. A high counter with a register and credit-card machine sat on the left. A few black plastic chairs with metal legs lined the right wall, and a large window opened into a darkened room.

  Behind the counter was another large window into another room. Above that, two ornate swords hung, crisscrossing each other. “You sword fight?”

  “Some. Braxton is the master. He’s a military man, so anything to do with knives, guns, swords, fighting...you name it, he can do it. But those are mine.” Piper flipped the light on to the room on the right. “Karate in here. Sparring in the other room or it can be used for practices and a second class that Braxton teaches.”

  She’d mentioned him before. “So, how do you know him?”

  “Braxton?” She slipped off her shoes and pointed to Luke’s. He toed off his shoes. “He’s actually from Memphis. I met him at a tournament in Birmingham. He was looking for a job and I needed someone.”

  “And he moved here from Memphis? For a job?”

  “Why is that odd?”

  It wasn’t. Just burning jealousy. He shrugged and followed Piper into the karate room. She bowed at the edge of the mat.

  “Do I have to bow?”

  Piper laughed. “Habit. Only if you were a student.” Luke stepped onto the light blue mat. In the corner, several red punching bags on stands bordered the single wall that wasn’t mirrored. Gold trophies and medals lined the shelving edging the walls. Photos of Piper, and a few men and women, engaged in competition hung in glass cases; in some of the photos Piper wore a proud smile.

  “My office is down the hall by the bathrooms and then the storage room is across from them.” Piper hauled a punching bag to the center of the floor. “Wanna go a round?”

  “With the bag or you?” Her cheeks flushed. Hadn’t seen that in a while. Luke could hold his own, especially if it involved boxing. He’d been doing that for years, but if Piper started her Bruce Lee moves, she could do some serious damage. And he’d like to keep all his organs intact. “Why martial arts, Piper?” Luke jabbed a punching bag.

  “Got a job when I moved here at a Piggly Wiggly. Cashier. Met a guy who was into it. So I thought, why not?” An unreadable expression crossed her face.

  What wasn’t she telling him? Luke stopped punching. “Piper, why?”

  * * *

  Piper nailed the punching bag with a roundhouse kick. Having Luke beside her all day, in her house, helping clean, sharing a meal—this was what her life could have been like if she hadn’t messed up so badly. If Luke had forgiven her and not turned her away. If he’d trusted her. He’d been having a hard time believing her. Maybe if she shared some truth, he’d consider her more of an ally now.

  “I was tired of being afraid and weak.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but Chaz was a scary man and Sly even more cutthroat. Chaz’s threats had been lethal. If she left the crew or turned on them in any way, he’d kill her. Kill Luke. Kill Mama Jean.

  And she’d believed it.

  But this time, she hadn’t been weak or unable to defend herself. And she was going to fight tooth and nail to protect everyone she loved. Even if it meant going up against Chaz. She shuddered. Double punch, side thrust kick to the bag. “You know it doesn’t take a big person to do a lot of damage. I’v
e seen men less than one foot away from an opponent barely draw back and send an assailant across the room.”

  Luke leaned on his bag, his biceps flexing underneath the cottony fabric of his V-neck T-shirt. “Piper, why were you afraid? I told you I’d keep you safe.”

  For how long? Besides, when the chips were down, Luke had stamped her a criminal and sent her packing. “I needed to learn how to keep myself safe.”

  “Didn’t you trust me?” He closed the distance between them, clutched her wrist and brushed his thumb like a feather across the sensitive area. She could flip him on the floor. If she wanted. His touch revved her pulse almost as much as the tenderness glistening in his eyes, but the confusion and unasked questions that swirled behind them kept her from gravitating closer.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Once. But her actions hadn’t been about trust or mistrust. Piper did what a nineteen-year-old girl who had been under the thumb of two insatiable animals for five years thought was best. She’d been protecting Luke, and he’d never once come to that conclusion. Searing pain flashed hot from her stomach into her neck. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  Luke released her wrist and sighed. “So teach me some moves, then.”

  Piper shook her head. “You have your own moves. Just a tour of the place.”

  “Come on. Show me the Piper I see in all these photos.” The green flecks in his eyes seemed to grow greener, which was impossible.

  Piper studied him. Then, in a blink, she came in with a slice to the side of his neck but withholding force. Luke’s eyes grew the size of half-dollars, and he stepped back. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  Piper grinned. “You weren’t supposed to. That’s a knife-hand strike.” She held out her hand. “Keep your index finger straight and bend your last three fingers. You want to strike with this part.” She ran a finger down the side of her hand. “Go for the carotid artery. It shoots blood into the brain, making an attacker dizzy. Gives you a chance to make another move or run.”

 

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