by Jodie Bailey
Lucas.
Kristin exhaled through pursed lips. Maybe...maybe he had needed to charge his phone. Or maybe he’d downloaded something. From her personal machine. Without her permission.
Anger unleashed from somewhere in her core and pounded in her temples.
She stood, slamming the laptop shut, letting anger wash over hurt and betrayal in bitter waves. No matter what he’d said...no matter that he’d kissed her...he’d betrayed her.
And she was going to find out why.
* * *
Lucas grabbed his Bible from the passenger seat and slammed the truck door. Maybe he should have stayed home, but he had a feeling God would have chased him all day if he had.
Knowing a patrol car would be keeping close to the neighborhood had freed him to head to the chapel on post. Since he’d started going to church a few years ago, no message had ever made him so uncomfortable. Sure, worship had been awesome, but the instant Chaplain Freemont opened his mouth to speak, Lucas felt certain the man had been following him around all week and somehow reading his thoughts on a big ol’ whiteboard. The man had addressed all of Lucas’s fears and doubts, all the things he’d held on to since they left for deployment. Your walk with Christ doesn’t change because someone else hurts you.
The weight of the words was palpable. No, Travis hadn’t hurt him, hadn’t purposely set out to hurt anybody, even though the ripple effect had nearly washed Lucas and half the company overboard. Travis had owned up to his mistakes and wasn’t the man he used to be, and Lucas couldn’t walk that walk for him.
Just like he wasn’t meant to bear the repercussions. Just because Travis had royally messed everything up in his own life, it didn’t mean Lucas would make the same mistakes. It didn’t mean things between him and Kristin couldn’t work out.
But first, she had to deal with her own issues and hopefully forgive him for the things he’d done.
That kiss he’d shared with Kristin sure made him want more. Somehow, she’d tapped into parts of his heart he’d never released before.
Leaning against the truck, he eyed Kristin’s front door. He should tell her what he’d done. Reading those emails from her brother had weighed on him all morning. He’d violated her privacy, and for no good reason. Sure, he’d been searching for information to prove Coleman’s guilt and Kristin’s innocence, but halfway through church Lucas put expression to the thing that had nagged him the most the night before...he’d also been relieved to see there was no indication someone in her life had broken through the wall she’d built around her heart.
He hated to admit the relief he’d felt when there hadn’t been one personal email from a man or when he’d discovered the folder with his name on it. Somehow, it felt like he’d gained an advantage over her, like he had read her diary and knew her secrets. All of that made him feel even worse now, when he was starting to think maybe, just maybe, God wasn’t going to make him live his whole life alone. That maybe, just maybe, Kristin James might be a bigger part of his future than he’d ever dreamed.
Which was a stupid idea. They were friends. That was all. Still, he couldn’t deny that something more was happening between them. Something he wasn’t quite ready to embrace or push away. Just thinking about it made him feel like he was trapped in a flat spin without a parachute.
The only certainty? He had to make right what he’d done by spying on her personal life, even if he hadn’t done the digging on his own.
Lucas laid his Bible on the hood of the truck. He was going over there. Now.
“Don’t even think about it.”
The voice from the porch, harsh and angry, whirled Lucas around, ready to fight.
But it was Kristin who stood from the chair on his front porch. She stormed down the steps in jeans and an oversize sweater that slouched off one shoulder, making her appear casual and fun.
Except her face was a hurricane, and the fury of the storm was directed straight at Lucas.
He almost backed away. Almost. Retreat would tip the advantage toward her, and with her in this mood, an advantage could be trouble. He started to say something—what, he had no idea—but she beat him to the words.
“Who do you think you are?” She stalked up the sidewalk and stood four feet from him, out of reach.
“What?” She was angry. That he’d kissed her? Insisted on protecting her last night? Or had she figured out—
“My computer. My files. My privacy. Mine, Lucas.” She advanced and rammed a finger into his chest. “What did you download off of my laptop? What were you looking for?”
So she did know. His apology evaporated, but he grabbed at what was left and tried anyway. “Kristin, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, stop. Just...stop talking.” The words dripped disgust as Kristin stalked to the porch before she turned and pinned him with a fiery gaze. “I trusted you. More than I should have. More than I’ve ever trusted anybody. And you? You took advantage of me.”
She’d trusted him? A sick wave crashed in his middle. She’d trusted him, and he’d taken that precious gift and thrown it into the garbage. He had to tell her why. No one had sworn him to secrecy. She had to know, or she’d never trust him again. “It’s your brother.”
Her eyes widened, and she threw both hands into the air. “My brother is dead. Gone. All of a sudden, everyone wants to know about him. That man? He keeps asking. And you?” She stopped stone cold, like she was frozen in time. “You...you’re not...working with the guy who’s after me, are you?”
“Haven’t we been down this road before?” He reached for her, wanting to reassure her he was the safest place she could be, but she evaded him, eyeing Lucas like he was a wild boar about to charge. “No. I don’t even know who he is.” He pulled in a deep breath and held it. No, he hadn’t been told not to say anything, but the order was implied, and he was about to violate it big-time. “But I do know your brother is being investigated.”
“What?” The word was low, like the silent pullback of a pistol’s hammer before it fired.
Lucas focused on the front door behind her. He couldn’t look at her while he trashed what was left of her relationship with Kyle. “They think he was involved in running stolen Iraqi antiquities to the States, that he used his position in the mail room to smuggle items out.”
He shifted his gaze in time to see her catch the implication of his words. “My brother was not a criminal. Yeah, he struggled, but he changed. He was killed by a sniper on guard duty. You told me yourself. Why on earth would you be digging through my computer if it’s my brother who’s...” The incredulous anger that swept her expression chilled the air between them. “You think I’m involved.”
“I don’t.” He held up two hands, hating the way it made him seem like he was surrendering but knowing there was no other way to talk her down. “I saw the emails on your laptop when I plugged my phone in to charge. I admit it, and I’m sorry. I read what was open, trying to find a way to prove you aren’t involved so when the question does—”
“I’m not involved.”
“I know, but you coming to the company to drop off a package to one of my soldiers caught the attention of CID. If you’re not a suspect now...well, Kristin, you’d better hope Specialist Lacey isn’t a part of this, or they will look at you. Hard.”
She balled her fists at her sides. “Kyle mailed Brandon Lacey a present for his mother. You can check.”
“I’m sure CID already has.” He walked toward her, desperate to mend this tear between them, to have a place in her life again. “Believe me. I know you’re not involved in anything your brother might have done.”
“He didn’t do anything.” She aimed a finger at his chest. “But you violated my privacy. After you kissed me. You asked everything of me.” She stalked closer and leaned into his personal space, bringing the scent of oranges with her. “It’s a good thi
ng I didn’t give you my heart. Stay away from me, Sergeant Murphy. Far away. Or I’ll test how fast the police can get to my house when I call them on you.” Shoving him aside, she marched down the driveway and was across the street before he realized he was staring after her with his mouth hanging open.
He started to follow, then stopped. In her mood, she’d never hear a word he said. Not that Lucas could blame her. He’d done everything wrong. Had closed himself off. Had kept the truth to himself. Had kissed her.
You asked everything of me. The words punched Lucas in the throat. Kristin was not a woman to kiss a man on a whim. Lucas wasn’t a man to kiss a woman for fun. But she couldn’t know that. The way she saw it, he’d used her, and with her history, this wasn’t something she was going to get over easily.
Deciding his drive-through burger on the way home had been a really, really bad idea, Lucas swiped his Bible from the hood of his truck and climbed to the porch. There had to be a way to make this right, but he had no idea what. Although he’d tried to protect Kristin James from harm, he’d been the one to cause her the most pain.
He needed a run. A long one. Until he dropped on some side street where no one could find him.
Shoving his key in the lock, Lucas pushed the front door open then stopped, his Bible hanging loosely from his fingers. He sagged against the door frame and stared at the destruction that had been his home.
The house was trashed. Couch cushions scattered and sliced open, holes in the drywall, slashes in the kitchen vinyl, grease smeared across the carpet...
This wasn’t a robbery. This was a message, and words weren’t necessary to convey the threat. Stay away from Kristin James.
TWELVE
“Okay, I love a good latte as much as the next girl, but what’s this all about?” Casey stopped beside Kristin’s table at the funky little coffee shop downtown and plunked her cup down. “And you didn’t have to pay for my coffee ahead of time. What’s going on?”
“I called you, I paid for you. Get over it.” It always made Casey light up when somebody did something for her, so Kristin did it every chance she got. “And why are you asking so many questions, anyway? You were probably curled up on your couch with your sudoku and inferior coffee. I saved you with my need for the good stuff.” Well, that was about a third of the story. The rest was she didn’t want Lucas to arrive at her door with another apology. Kristin wasn’t ready to forgive him. Besides, the vintage concert posters and album covers at the back of the small space blended with the brightly painted walls to drive away the March funk that added to her inner turmoil.
“Well, you’re right about one thing. I’ll turn cartwheels on Hay Street if it will get me out of cleaning, and you know I never turn down a berry-rama. Cherry and raspberry in my coffee sounds so wrong but it’s so right.” Casey grinned and shed her jacket, then slung it over the chair beside her and stared at Kristin for a long time, her smile fading. She started to say something, then stopped and seemed to reconsider as she slid into her seat. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m going to ask again...what’s going on?”
“I don’t even know where to start.” It sounded like a stall tactic, but it wasn’t. Kristin had thought she wanted to spill her hurt and anger to her best friend, but the plan was a whole lot better in theory than in practice. Now that Casey was sitting across from her, Kristin didn’t want to think about it anymore, let alone talk about it. She sat back in her neon green chair and rolled an orange between her palms. “Never mind.”
Casey eased to the edge of her seat and tipped her head toward the fruit Kristin held. “You brought oranges with you? How many of those have you had today?”
“Not sure.”
“You’re the only person I know who stress eats citrus. You might want to slow down. You’re either going to trash your mouth or give yourself some wicked heartburn, especially if you’re chasing it with espresso.”
Kristin stopped palming the orange and held the fruit for a closer look. Casey was probably right. Leaning forward to thunk the fruit on the table, she reconsidered keeping her mouth shut. “I needed some company, if that’s all right with you?”
“Really? You’ve fought me all week on hanging out at your house to give you backup. You’ve fought Lucas, too. Since when do you need a babysitter?” If Casey slid any closer to the edge of the chair, she’d slide under the table to the concrete floor. “No, wait. First, you can tell me how you got the cut on your face and if this moment of uncharacteristic behavior has anything to do with it.” When Kristin grazed the wound with her fingers, Casey’s mouth tightened. “Yeah, I can see it. The whole world can see it. It’s a giant billboard for a fistfight on your face. Who did you tangle with this time, and please tell me it wasn’t Lucas.”
“Really?” Despite the dull throbbing in her cheek, Kristin had forgotten about the visible reminder of last night’s insanity. “Lucas would never hurt me.” At least not physically. “I had another visitor last night.” One who had asked specifically where her brother had hidden something. The oranges she’d binged on earlier roiled and tossed. Lucas couldn’t be right about Kyle, could he?
“What?” Casey rocketed from the chair and paced the width of the narrow room before she turned around, her face thunder. “Who?”
Behind the counter, the barista eyed the duo, then turned to help a young couple who stood by the counter. The place was quiet for a Sunday afternoon, but even a small audience was too much.
Kristin pointed to a chair. “Sit. If you make a scene, we’re done talking.”
“Fine.” Casey huffed and dropped into her chair again. “But you’re telling me the whole story, Kris. No holding back.”
This was the price she paid for having a friend who knew her better than anybody. Except Lucas. He had the uncanny ability to read her even better than Casey could.
Kristin brushed off the heaviness that came with thoughts of Lucas. Not knowing what to do about the way she’d let him into her heart stirred her almost as much as the story she was about to tell Casey. “It was the same guy as before. He came in after I finished working out. If I hadn’t burned myself out on the punching bag, I’d have had him, but he got the advantage. Lucas heard the alarm and...” She shrugged like it was nothing, but a spike of fear pierced her. What if she hadn’t set the alarm? Or Lucas hadn’t heard it? She wanted to drop her head in her hands, but doing so would tip Casey off in an instant.
“Tell me you called the cops.”
“Lucas did.”
Casey stared at something in the far corner of the shop, her thoughts skimming across her face. The lines around her eyes deepened as she looked at Kristin. “You didn’t recognize the guy?”
“No.”
“Kris, you have to do something.” Casey’s voice held a pleading warble Kristin had never heard before. “You can’t keep this up. One of these times, whoever this is, he’s going to get the drop on you, and Lucas won’t be around to save you.”
I don’t want Lucas to save me. As much as Kristin tried to shove the denial out, the words stuck in her throat. What if she couldn’t do this alone? What if she needed Lucas more than she ever wanted to?
“I don’t want to get a phone call in the middle of the night that my best friend is...” Casey laid her hand on Kristin’s bowed head. “Let me stay with you.”
Pulling away, Kristin straightened and crossed her arms, raising the last of her inner reserves. “Put you in the line of fire? No. Lucas stayed on the couch last night, but he won’t be doing that again.”
“Why not?”
“Because he went through my computer.” And because he kissed me. But she wouldn’t be telling Casey about the kiss. It was humiliating after the way he’d betrayed her.
The metal chair legs protested against the cement floor as Casey slid away from the table. She stared at the ceiling for a long time, as
though she were searching for answers in the textured paint. “Why would he dig through your computer?”
Oh, where to start? Kristin puffed out her cheeks and reached for the orange again, squeezing it gently. She’d crush the thing right here, but cleaning sticky juice out of her jeans was a task she wasn’t up to handling. “The army thinks Kyle was smuggling stolen Iraqi artifacts.”
“Oh. Wow.” Casey lifted her head. “You’re kidding.”
“Lucas claims he was searching for proof I’m not involved, but you know Kyle couldn’t have been, either.” Kristin dropped the orange, and it rolled under the table. She didn’t bother to pick it up. “This is my brother we’re talking about. My brother, who finally tried to make it right, who...” Who’d been at the center of every attack.
“Who I always told you was shady.” Casey held up her hand, her palm a barrier to Kristin’s arguments. “You said yourself he acted like he was hiding something, and he never would let you in. If you tell yourself the truth, you were frustrated with him almost constantly.”
“I remember, but he’s dead.”
“Dead doesn’t make you a good person.”
Kristin propped her elbows on the table and kneaded her temples with her index fingers. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Kyle had a lot of money you couldn’t account for. Money he sank into his car.” Casey leaned across the table and tapped Kristin’s forehead. “The missing car.”
Kristin groaned. It physically hurt to think the things she was thinking. Had her brother been involved in something bad enough to get him killed? Had he been at her house not because he wanted to reconcile, but because he wanted to use her for...what? She wrapped her arms around her aching stomach. Yeah, she definitely should have laid off the oranges. “The guy...last night. He asked where Kyle ‘hid everything.’”
Casey sighed. “Kris, I hate to ask you this, but...what if Lucas is right?”
“Then I’m a dead woman, because I have no idea how to give this man what he wants.”
