“Do you really want to argue with me in the rain?”
“No,” Pfeiffer said, shaking her head. “Let’s go up.”
“Do you need a towel or something?” Luke asked when they were inside the office. “I’ve got some in the bathroom in the hallway.”
“Thanks,” Pfeiffer said, taking off her wet shoes. “I’m okay.”
“Your hair is dripping on the floor,” Luke said. He handed her a towel and moved over to his desk, opening one of the drawers.
“It’s a little unwieldy lately,” Pfeiffer replied. “I haven’t had a haircut in months.”
Pfeiffer watched as Luke took off his soaking-wet T-shirt and pulled an identical one out of the drawer. She couldn’t look away, even though she knew she should. There was a trail of fine, dark hair leading from his chest all the way to the dip in his jeans. For a moment, she forgot all about Anna and Old Crow and the whole reason she’d come into town that morning.
“Pfeiffer?” Luke asked, pulling the dry shirt over his head. “Are you okay?”
“What? Oh yes, I’m fine,” Pfeiffer replied, trying to keep the warmth coiling in her core from reaching her cheeks.
“So did you find out anything useful?” Luke asked. “During your talk with Mrs. Graham?”
“I don’t know,” Pfeiffer replied.
“I know Anna sent me and Reese out for a reason,” Luke replied, taking a step away from his desk and closer to Pfeiffer.
Pfeiffer dragged her eyes away from him. “I asked her about a man my aunt was in love with back in the forties,” she said. “I found a journal detailing some of it, but the last few pages have been ripped out.”
“And you thought Mrs. Graham might know something about it?” Luke asked.
“It was worth a shot,” Pfeiffer said. “But she didn’t know anything, not really.”
“What do you think happened to the pages?”
Pfeiffer shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think Rufus Crowley might.”
“What does he have to do with it?” Luke wanted to know.
“He and my aunt were friends,” Pfeiffer replied. “And he’s been acting strange ever since the body was found.”
“Do you think that the body is this man your aunt was in love with?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know,” Pfeiffer said. “I mean, I can’t imagine that it’s likely.”
“How likely is it that there would be a dead body on your property?”
“Good point.”
Luke turned toward the window. “Man, it’s really coming down out there. I thought it would be letting up by now.”
“It’s supposed to rain for the next few days,” Pfeiffer replied.
“I guess I haven’t been paying too much attention to the weather,” Luke said.
“I have about six weather apps,” Pfeiffer said. “I like to know what’s going to happen.”
“That seems excessive.”
She grinned. “Well, I can be a bit excessive sometimes.”
“I’m glad that I saw you last night,” Luke said. “I was hoping I would see you around.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Why?”
Luke turned around so that he was standing so close to her that she could smell his bay rum aftershave. “I thought it might be nice to get to know you,” he said.
“I think I’d like that,” she replied.
“What about dinner one day this week?”
Pfeiffer pretended to think about it, but her mind was already coiled around the thought of going on a date with Luke. It was all she wanted to do. “I think that would work,” she said finally.
Suddenly there was an intense warbling from both of their cell phones. Luke pulled his out of his pants pocket to look at it. “There’s been a flash flood warning issued for Ozark County,” he said.
“I better get home,” Pfeiffer replied. “There’s a low water bridge not far from the farm. If it gets up too high, I won’t be able to make it back.”
“I’ll drive you,” Luke said.
“I’ve got the Tesla,” Pfeiffer replied. “I should be fine.”
“Sure, if you want to get washed away in the flood,” Luke replied. “We can take my truck.”
“Okay,” Pfeiffer said. “But Martha will kill me if anything happens to her car.”
“You can follow me home, and we can put it in the garage,” Luke said. “I just live a couple of blocks away.”
Pfeiffer considered for a moment telling Luke she’d much rather stay at his place than go home. She had a pretty good feeling he’d oblige, but she knew she needed to go home. There was no telling what had happened since she left that morning, and more than anything, she needed to show her sisters the journal. Maybe together, the three of them could figure out the next step. She never should have kept it hidden from them in the first place.
“Let’s go, then,” Pfeiffer said. “Before the Cold River rises up and washes us all away.”
Ten minutes later, Pfeiffer pulled onto a driveway at the end of a neat cul-de-sac. It was in the older part of town, not far from where she knew Dr. O’Conner lived. She was a bit surprised that the two-story native-stone house belonged to Luke. She expected him to live in something . . . she didn’t know, a bit larger, more lawyer-ish. All of the lawyers she knew back in New York lived in brownstones or multi-million-dollar apartments.
“Quaint, isn’t it?” Luke asked after he’d guided her into the garage. “It was built in 1910. I bought it from St. Louis before I ever even saw it in person.”
“Why?” Pfeiffer wanted to know. “Weren’t you scared it would be in awful condition?”
“I already knew it needed work on the inside,” he replied. “But that’s one of the reasons I bought it. It needed work.”
“You like to fix up old houses?”
Luke nodded. “In my spare time. I worked with Brody on the house he’s got on his farm now. We refinished all the floors and practically gutted every room.”
Pfeiffer stepped from the doorway in the garage and entered a large kitchen with a butcher-block island. To the left was a living room with a rich, leather sofa that sat directly in front of a native-stone fireplace. “I love fireplaces,” she said. “I always wanted one in my apartment, but they were never real. It’s not the same when they’re just for looks.”
“I agree,” Luke replied, close enough behind her that Pfeiffer could feel his breath on her ear. “This is one of my favorite parts of the house. Right here by the fireplace.”
Beside the fireplace, a gray-faced beagle looked up at them. He stood up, stretched, and then hobbled over to where they stood.
“This is Crosby,” Luke said. He reached down to scratch the dog behind one of his ears.
“How old is he?” Pfeiffer asked.
“Close to fifteen,” Luke replied. “He doesn’t hear or see much, but he gets along all right. Never misses hearing that treat bag open.”
Pfeiffer bent down to pet the dog. He had a sweet face. It wasn’t quite as long or droopy as Lafayette’s, but she could see some definite similarities. “He’s adorable,” she said.
“Don’t tell him that,” Luke replied. “He likes to think he’s tough.”
“Do you think we’ll have any trouble getting back to the farm?” Pfeiffer wanted to know. “I really hate being out in this stuff.”
Luke busied himself inside one of his cabinets and said, “I think it’ll be fine. My truck can go just about anywhere. Do you want a drink before we head out?”
“Sure,” Pfeiffer replied, sitting herself down on the couch.
“Hot toddy okay?”
“Perfect.”
Luke carried the drinks over and sat down beside her. “This is my grandmother’s recipe,” he said. “I can’t tell you what’s in that rum, but I can tell you that you won’t catch a cold for at least a month.”
Pfeiffer took a sip and allowed the warm liquid to run down her throat. “God, I love these,�
� she said. “I bet I haven’t had one since I was a teenager.”
“A teenager?” Luke asked.
“My aunt used to make them when we were feeling under the weather,” Pfeiffer replied. “Looking back, she probably just did it to get us to sleep, but it worked. I always woke up feeling better.”
Luke grinned. “My parents were teetotalers. So was my grandfather. We were all raised Church of Christ. Drinking, dancing, and basically having any fun was off the table. But the grandmother that I grew up with was really my step-grandmother. My dad’s mother died long before I was born, and my grandfather remarried a woman from Tulsa,” he said, and then took a long sip of his drink. “She had flaming red hair and lipstick to match. She smoked and drank and cursed; you know, the big three. You can imagine that she didn’t go over well with the family. My grandfather’s marriage to her is about the only thing I think I ever appreciated about the man.”
“Nobody in my family has ever been a teetotaler,” Pfeiffer said. “I sometimes wonder if maybe we had been, my sister wouldn’t have become an alcoholic.”
Luke turned to look at her. “I don’t think it would have mattered,” he said. “You and your sisters went through something traumatic at a young age. It makes sense that at least one of you might try to self-medicate to get through it.”
“My other sister married a man she didn’t love because she wanted to forget,” Pfeiffer said. “I guess it took me a little bit longer to self-destruct, but when I did, I went big.”
“What happened?”
“I destroyed my career,” Pfeiffer said. “And you know, I knew what I was doing when I did it. I even thought about it before I did it, and realized I just didn’t care anymore.” She turned herself so that she was face-to-face with Luke. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud.”
“Are you sorry you let it happen?” Luke asked.
“No,” Pfeiffer replied, her voice softer than it had been before. “I’m not.”
When Luke leaned in to kiss her, Pfeiffer allowed herself to be pulled in to him. Every ounce of longing, of loneliness, she’d been holding onto for the last twenty years came flooding out, and she didn’t even realize she was crying until Luke lifted her up and carried her, her head lolling against his shoulder, to the bedroom.
“We don’t have to do this,” he said, his breathing hot in her ear. “It’s just that I—”
“No,” Pfeiffer said, cutting him off. “I want it, too. You don’t know how much I want this.”
Luke wiped at the tears on her cheeks with his thumb, and then he kissed her again.
Pfeiffer found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, and then she laid her hands flush against his chest, allowing the warmth radiating from him to warm her, too. Their clothes nothing more than a heap at their feet, Luke took her in, all of her, and Pfeiffer kept her eyes open so that she could watch the way his body responded to hers, the way the dimple in his left cheek flashed when he smiled in satisfaction just before he pressed his mouth onto her neck and her collarbone.
When Luke’s hand slid between her thighs and his tongue traced the outline of one of her nipples, Pfeiffer arched her back, but Luke took his time. It wasn’t until they were in perfect sync with each other, when their breath was ragged and their hearts were beating to the same rhythm as the rain coming down outside the window, that they finally became one.
Chapter 32
Hadley
HADLEY LET OUT A SIGH OF RELIEF WHEN SHE AND BRODY pulled into the driveway at the farm and Mark’s car was gone. She hoped he got the first flight out of Missouri that morning. She knew she would have to deal with him and the end of their marriage at some point, but she didn’t want to deal with it today.
“I can’t believe it’s still raining,” Brody said. “We get flash flood alerts all the time around here, but if this keeps up, we’ll be in trouble.”
“Maybe it will stop soon,” Hadley said. She absently stroked Lafayette, who was nestled down beside her. Ollie, too, had come with them, and it was a tight fit inside the cab of Brody’s truck. But Ollie had followed Lafayette all the way out to the truck and whined until Brody lifted him up into the cab of the pickup.
“The forecast says it’s supposed to keep up all day,” Brody said.
“Is Lucy going to be all right with your parents?” Hadley asked. “Do you need to go check on her?”
“Naw, she’s fine,” Brody said. “Mom and Dad live up on that hill, so they should be fine. But I’m going to make her stay with them until all of this passes by us.”
Hadley knew they were both thinking about her mother and sister, and the last great storm that rolled through Cold River. She wondered if he ever thought about Mary, who was Lucy’s age when she died. Sometimes, when the rain came down in sheets and the wind began to howl all around her, it was all Hadley could think about.
They all four got out of the pickup and hurried inside. Martha was sitting at the kitchen table, reading, when they entered.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, a rare line of worry creasing her forehead. “I wasn’t sure if you or Pfeiffer would be able to get back in all of this rain.”
“Where did Pfeiffer go?”
“Into town,” Martha replied. “She’s with Luke Gibson.”
“The lawyer?” Brody asked.
“He’s our lawyer,” Hadley replied. “Well, he was our aunt’s lawyer.”
“He sat by us last night at Mama’s,” Martha said, her eyes twinkling. “He really seems to like her.”
“So she went in to meet him for breakfast or something?” Hadley asked. “That’s kind of an odd date to make—first thing in the morning.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Martha said. “She went into town to talk to Anna Graham about Aunt Bea.”
“Why?”
Martha turned around and went over to the kitchen table, picking up a small, leather-bound journal in her hands. “I think it might’ve had something to do with this.”
“What is it?” Hadley asked.
“It’s Aunt Bea’s journal from when she was a teenager,” Martha replied. “I got curious while I was here alone, and went into her bedroom. I found it under the mattress.”
“That’s an odd place for it,” Hadley said.
“I think Pfeiffer was hiding it from us.”
“Why would she do that?”
Martha shrugged. “I don’t know, but the last few pages are missing.”
“Do you think Pfeiffer took them?” Brody asked, taking the journal from Hadley and looking it over. “Man, this thing is ancient.”
“Maybe,” Martha replied. “But I don’t know why she would do that. Why wouldn’t she just take the whole thing?”
“Who knows,” Hadley said. “I rarely know why Pfeiffer does anything she does.”
“I’m wondering if she thinks this has something to do with the . . . you know, body,” Martha said to Brody. “I’m not sure how it ties together, though.”
“She was pretty convinced that Crowley knows something,” Brody said. “I think when she went to see him and he wouldn’t come and talk to the sheriff, it convinced her even more.”
“That was strange,” Hadley admitted. “But Crowley? I can’t imagine he’d ever have anything to do with something like that.”
There was a loud clap of thunder, and the lights inside the house flickered and then went out.
“I don’t like this,” Martha said.
“It’s all right,” Hadley replied. “We’ll be fine.” She reached out and touched her sister’s shoulder. She’d said the words more for her own benefit than anyone else’s, but she knew Martha needed to hear them, too.
Outside, a truck pulled up into the driveway, and Pfeiffer and Luke emerged, hurrying up the steps and into the house. Pfeiffer entered first, soaking wet, but her skin glowing a luminous pink that Hadley recognized the moment she saw the way Luke was looking at her younger sister.
“Well, hello, you two,” she
said, arching an eyebrow.
“It’s really getting bad out there,” Pfeiffer said, ignoring her sister. “We almost didn’t make it across the low water bridge.”
“Well, I guess that means we’ll all be stuck here for a while,” Martha replied.
“I’m going to run upstairs and change my clothes,” Pfeiffer said. “Please don’t scare Luke away while I’m gone.”
“How’s it going, Luke?” Brody asked, holding out his hand for Luke to shake once Pfeiffer had left the room.
“Not bad,” Luke replied. Turning to Martha, he said, “Martha, we left your car in my garage to make sure it stayed safe.”
“I was just about to ask where it was,” Martha replied. “Thank you. I would have killed Pfeiffer if something happened to it.”
“That’s what she told me.”
“Thanks for bringing Pfeiffer home,” Hadley said. “Were you talking with Anna Graham all this time?”
Luke’s cheeks turned pink, the color visible even in the dim light of the room, and he said, “We stopped over at my place and had a drink before we headed out again.”
“I bet you did.”
Martha looked between Hadley and Luke, a question forming on her lips. “Did I miss something?” she asked.
“Nope,” Hadley said, winking at Luke.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to get home in a few hours,” Luke said hastily, looking as if he were ready to risk the flood to escape Hadley. Then he saw the journal in her hands. “Is that your aunt’s?”
“How did you know about it?” Hadley asked.
“Pfeiffer told me this morning.”
“Apparently, Pfeiffer told everyone but us,” Martha commented.
“I told everyone what?” Pfeiffer asked, coming down the stairs.
Despite being irritated with her, Hadley couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious Pfeiffer had put some thought into her appearance, as she’d even applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Her sister must really like Luke, because she’d never seen her try so hard. “You want to explain this journal?” Hadley asked after a moment. “Why didn’t you tell us about it before?”
“I was going to tell you both,” Pfeiffer replied. “But I wanted to make sense of it first. Then Brody and Old Crow found that skull, and I guess I got a little distracted.”
The Sisters Hemingway Page 25
