THE MISSING (L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Book 4)

by Linda Style

  He shook his head, his expression puzzled. “Work doesn’t always come first, you know.”

  She stood straighter. Taller. “Well, it always did before.”

  He winced, almost imperceptibly, but she saw it.

  Like before, they were fencing… parrying and lunging, repeating the same moves over and over until one of them stabbed too hard. She was as much to blame as he was. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I didn’t always work so much.”

  “Touché,” he said, looking directly at her. Then he turned and walked toward the door.

  On his way out he said, “I’ll be back later. Put the security alarm on and lock the door after me.”

  ~~~

  ARRIVING AT HEADQUARTERS and feeling a need to release his pent-up energy, Luke took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he unzipped his leather jacket, then palmed open the door into the RHD.

  About half the detectives in the unit were at their stations in the open room. Rico’s desk was across from his and Jordan’s was butted up against Luke’s in the back of the room. Walking toward his desk, Luke saw the captain glance up. Carlyle waved him in. “I’ll be back,” Luke said and gave Rico a pat on the shoulder as he passed by.

  Going into the captain’s office, Luke held up a hand. “I’m not here to work on the Renfield case.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  Luke sat in one of the oak chairs. Since Julianna’s problem involved an old LAPD case, he told the captain everything Jules had told him. “If we can find the guy who’s threatening her, we may solve the other crime as well.”

  “You mean if he’s not some idiot wanting attention. You know how often that happens.”

  Too often. Every homicide case generated dozens of calls from people who thought they knew something. Some were legit, many weren’t. But they had to treat each one as if it were the real thing.

  “How’s your father?” Jeff asked.

  Luke wasn’t aware the captain knew anything about Abe’s illness.

  “Jordan told me.”

  “Oh.” Luke nodded. “He’s in the hospital with pneumonia. I talked to his physician this morning and it looks like he’ll be there a few more days. I’m going back tomorrow morning. I have to make sure he gets some help on the ranch.”

  The captain steepled his fingers.

  “So, what do you think about the Willis case?” Luke asked.

  “It was before I came to the RHD, but I do remember the media coverage. The FBI was involved.”

  “Initially they were, but it was so long ago, I don’t know what procedure they followed.”

  Luke thought for a second. “You could contact the suits.” He gave his boss one of his best smiles.

  “You mean if I agree that we move forward on this. And I’m not sure we have the jurisdiction to do that. You said the threats happened in San Francisco and New Mexico.” Carlyle gave him a hard look.

  “The Willis case was ours and it still is. We can open a cold case anytime we want, especially if we have a new lead. It’s a long shot, but the threats are about the Willis story, and I call that a new lead.”

  The big black man rubbed his chin. “A lot has changed in fifteen years.”

  “A lot that may finally help solve this case.”

  “You still have a week left of your vacation.”

  “I know. If you give me the go-ahead on this, I’ll keep track and switch out the time.”

  Carlyle grinned. “You’re like a dog with a bone. You never leave anything alone.” He tapped his pen on a stack of papers on his desk. “Yeah, go ahead.”

  Luke’s blood pumped. “Thanks, boss.” On his way out, Luke said, “I’ll let you know what I find.”

  Between Rico tracking down the person making the e-mail threats, and researching the old file and the old evidence, to see if any was still viable, they just might get lucky.

  As he passed Jordan on his way back to his desk, his buddy stopped him. “I hear you brought Jules back and she’s staying at your place.”

  Luke frowned. “Who said?”

  Jordan nodded at Rico.

  “Uh-huh.” Luke gave Rico the evil eye and in turn, Rico shrugged, palms up. “Then I assume he also told you she’s there under my protection until I can find the bastard making threats on her life.”

  His partner frowned. “I pulled the Willis case.” He indicated the three boxes on the floor next to Luke’s desk.

  “Oh, man,” Luke groaned.

  “So you’re back?”

  “I’m not on the clock. But I want to get things moving because we’ve got a flight back to New Mexico in the morning.”

  “Okay. I’m in. Let’s get started.”

  Luke and Jordan culled the files, reading notes and searching for anything that might signal a connection with Julianna’s caller. The only thing Luke found was that little Renata’s mother and stepfather had split about a year after the discovery of the child’s body. It happened frequently in cases like this. Some traumas were too big to be overcome.

  He knew that only too well.

  Another entry said the mother’s brother had visited earlier in the month, but he’d been questioned only briefly since he’d gone back home before the child’s disappearance.

  Luke noted that the stepfather had been the most likely suspect, which was usually the case. Family members were always the first to be scrutinized when someone was the victim of a violent crime. He made a note to interview the main parties again, and also the neighbor’s boy, who’d said he saw a man around the house a few days before.

  It was after six when Luke realized everyone else had gone home and the next shift was straggling in. Jordan and Rico had been long gone on a call-out. Quickly he wrote down the numbers he needed and stuffed the notepad into his pocket.

  On the way home, he called Jules to see if he should pick up anything. Strange, almost like they were married again. After five rings, he clicked off and searched his pockets for her cell phone number. When he found it, the waning light made the number difficult to see. Crap. He should have put her number into his favorites, but had been in too big of a hurry. Finally deciphering his scribbles, he tapped in the number.

  No answer there either, so he left a message. But why wouldn’t she answer her cell phone? He hit the redial to call again, just in case he’d gotten it wrong. One ring. Two rings. Three—

  Still listening, he stomped on the accelerator.

  “Hello.”

  Relief swept through Luke. “It’s me. Everything okay?”

  It took a moment for her to answer. “Yes, everything is fine. Why?”

  His heart still thumped like a drum. “No reason. Just checking in.”

  He heard her breathing heavily.

  She didn’t sound right. Maybe she was more bothered about being there than she wanted to admit. “Do you want me to pick up anything at the store?”

  A long silence. “Yes. Can you get some coffee? I…I couldn’t find any.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT, Luke decided, as he sped home through the lines of traffic, darting in and out of clogged lanes to capture a few extra seconds. He was probably overreacting to the hesitancy in her voice, but that he’d heard it at all put all his senses on red alert. Despite his NASCAR driving skills, it took another half hour to reach the house.

  He didn’t bother pulling into the garage and instead, parked in the drive and bounded up the front steps. Before he reached the door, he could see there were no lights on inside. Jules wouldn’t be sitting in the dark. Unless maybe she was working in the bedroom. Logical reasons flitted through his brain as he searched each room, calling out for her as he went. “Jules? Dammit, answer me will you!”

  Realizing she wasn’t there, something tightened in his chest. He hadn’t imagined she’d leave the house or even where she might go without a car. His gaze darted. An empty cup on the kitchen counter next to her purse, the coffeepot
with the cover off. Had she decided to get the coffee herself? No. She wouldn’t go to the store without her purse. And she knew the closest one was near the beach. The beach.

  He launched himself down the front stairs.

  The multicolored lights and signs along Venice Boulevard gave an eerie circus quality to the night, and the people in various states of dress or undress only added to the surreal image.

  His heart in his throat, he pushed past the tourists and the regulars, inadvertently knocking the balls out of a juggler’s hands. “Sorry, bud,” he said, shouldering forward through the crowd. He circled around a couple of guys twisting their bodies into contortions for whatever money onlookers tossed in a box.

  Despite the crispness of the evening, sweat beaded on his forehead and his shirt was wet under the arms as he barreled ahead, eyes scanning the crowd, searching faces. He saw a woman with long dark hair, but when she turned, it wasn’t Jules. He tapped another on the shoulder, not her either.

  Remembering how she hated crowds, he sprinted for the water. If she was here, she would be down by the water. Where she used to take Mikey.

  As he headed toward the beach, he noticed a bench ahead with a lone person on it. A woman, he could tell by the silhouette. But he couldn’t tell if it was her. “Jules,” he called out. The woman’s head came up. His blood rushed. Yes! Thank God.

  He walked over and dropped onto the bench beside her, his shoulders sagged with relief. “You scared the hell out of me, Jules. What were you thinking coming out here alone?” His tone came out sharper than necessary, but dammit, she should know better.

  She stared at him, a frown formed. “I thought you said this was the safest place for me. Either I’m safe or I’m not.”

  His muscles bunched. “I said my place was safe. I didn’t expect you’d be wandering around out here alone. That in itself is dangerous, even without the other stuff. Why didn’t you call and tell me?”

  She pulled back. “I just stepped out front for some air. I wasn’t planning to come down to the beach, but suddenly, here I was. You didn’t tell me not to leave, so I never thought twice about it. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

  Worried? How about frantic? He leaned against the wood slats and draped an arm over the back of the bench. “It’s just that…I brought you here under my protection. It’s my job to worry. It’s what I do.” And if anything had happened to her…

  “Would you like to walk a little?”

  Standing, he shrugged and rolled his shoulders. “Sure,” he said. “Why not.” It was true, he hadn’t told her not to leave. He should be mad at himself for neglecting what should come naturally. The woman was driving him insane. Or at least causing him not to think sanely.

  That happened when a cop was emotionally involved. It was the reason cops didn’t work a case when it concerned their family. But he’d always thought he was immune. That he could keep a clear head. No matter what. Yeah, so much for that theory.

  As they started toward the pier, he asked, “Did you eat?”

  “I found some peanut butter and crackers.”

  “That’s it?”

  She nodded.

  His gaze circled. “I didn’t have time to eat either, so let’s go find something.”

  ~~~

  JULIANNA REMEMBERED a café near the pier, but restaurants in the area changed like the shifting sand. “The Venice Whaler. Is it still there?”

  “Yeah, good thought. I’m up for that.”

  He placed his hand at the small of Julianna’s back, directing her toward Washington Square. The warmth of his hand on the small of her back seemed so comfortable and natural…stirring deep longings she’d thought forgotten. Longings that conjured memories of sweaty passion-filled nights and fun-filled days. When had all that ended?

  Long before they lost Michael, she realized. But what good did it do to think about all that now?

  As if he knew what she was thinking, Luke stuffed both hands in his jacket pockets and glanced at the horizon between sky and sea. A fat yellow moon seemed suspended just above the water, lighting their way.

  “Do you go to the Whaler often?”

  “Nope. Not since—”

  “Oh,” she interrupted. “Sorry. It’s a bad idea.”

  “No, it’s an excellent idea.” He put a hand on her shoulder and they kept walking. “I’d probably have gone before this if I’d thought about it, but…you know me…always busy someplace else.”

  Yes, she knew. Only too well. And while she understood what his job entailed when they’d gotten married, she’d been so young, so blinded by love, she never imagined the LAPD would disrupt their lives so much. That was her fault, not his.

  There was a line in front of the restaurant. Nothing unusual; the place was as popular with locals as it was with tourists. While Luke went in to check how long it would be, she glanced at the people waiting, mostly young couples, but there were a few older people sitting apart on a bench, some in their thirties talking and touching, and some barely out of their teens, ready to party and who had no qualms about a little PDA. She smiled. Luke never had a problem with public displays of affection either—and way back when, neither had she.

  Thinking of it made her feel old and staid. God, she’d give anything to have that carefree feeling back again.

  “It’ll be ten minutes,” Luke said coming back. “Can you make it that long?”

  “I think so.” If she could forget about the past. Turning, she walked to the balcony overlooking the water, stood at the rail and Luke came up beside her. The sound of the waves slapping against the pylons underneath them echoed the rhythmic salsa music vibrating from the restaurant. The music underscored the nature of Venice Beach. Party city. And while she didn’t feel like partying, the music energized her and she was glad they’d come.

  They were seated near a window overlooking the ocean. If the weather had been warmer, she knew Luke would’ve preferred sitting outside on the deck. After returning with their drinks, a Bud Light for her and a non-alcoholic beer for Luke, their server took their dinner orders. Luke chose his usual. The surf and turf, steak and jumbo shrimp. Rather than thinking about the menu, she requested the seafood platter, an assortment of fish, crab, shrimp and scallops. Too much food, she knew, but Luke would eat what she didn’t.

  “I can’t believe everything is exactly as it was,” she said. “Right down to the fish net on the wall.”

  Luke lifted his drink. “Why mess with a good thing?”

  “Hear, hear.” She lifted her beer in a salute.

  “To friendship,” he added.

  “Yes,” she said, then took a big swig. But they weren’t friends anymore. Friends had contact, they kept in touch. Friends shared the ups and downs of life and supported each other no matter what. They’d been best friends once, and it hurt to remember how the most wonderful part of her life had ended so badly. Her heart ached with the loss, and in that one moment she wanted it back again…wondered if they could ever…

  She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Nothing had changed. Nothing would be any different now.

  “So, what’s next? Did you have any success today at the department?”

  “Yes, I did. Jeff supports taking another look at the Willis case.” He kept his voice low and she could barely hear him over the music. She switched chairs to sit beside him instead of across the table.

  Smiling, she said, “Hard to hear over there.” So don’t get any crazy ideas.

  His shoulder touched hers as he leaned in to talk. “I’m going to try to interview a couple of people in the morning before we head back to the ranch.”

  The ranch. She realized she was anxious to get back. To see Abe. “Have you talked to your father or the doctor?”

  Luke pressed closer, close enough for her to smell his aftershave, a light, breezy scent.

  “I spoke to Pops a little while ago and told him the doc said he had to stay a couple more days. Barring any new problems, he’ll probably be abl
e to come home on Friday.”

  “Oh, boy. I can imagine his response.”

  Laughing, Luke said, “Right. I’m glad I wasn’t there to tell him in person. And since we’re out here, he can’t insist I take him home.”

  The server brought a big bowl for the crab shells, extra napkins and some wet wipes. Then he brought a salad and finally big oversized plates of steaming seafood.

  When he was gone, she said, “I feel bad that Abe has no one to visit him.”

  “Nothing he hasn’t brought upon himself.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Hancock will visit? She’s really concerned about him.”

  Luke grunted, then picked up one of her crab legs and snapped it in half. “Boy these look good.” He pulled out a hunk of succulent meat and dipped it in butter.

  “Why do you hate her so much?”

  His head came up. He offered her the buttery chunk of crab. “I think hate is a little strong.”

  “So, you don’t hate her. You could’ve fooled me,” she said, taking the crab rather than letting him feed her.

  “I don’t like her. There’s a difference.”

  “Which means she’s done something you don’t approve of, otherwise it wouldn’t be important enough for you to dislike her.”

  “It’s not important.” He leaned back in his chair and took a gulp of his O’Doul’s. “Leave it alone. Okay? We’ve got more significant things to worry about.”

  She bristled, chastised as if she were five years old child. Going back to her meal, she said, “Sure. You never told me about it in five years of marriage, I don’t know why I was dumb enough to think you’d tell me now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  LUKE WISHED he could snatch back the words, but as usual, it was too late. And he wasn’t going to apologize. His feelings about his father and that woman had nothing to do with Jules.

  After a long silence, she finally said, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business and I should know better. I’d blame it on my journalist training, but I’d be lying. I really wanted to know more about you.”

  He stopped eating mid-bite. “Jules, if anyone knows about me, it’s you. You know me better than anyone.”