by Clare Revell
****
In the kitchen, Luke put the kettle on. He should have added coffee maker to the shopping list. He’d rectify that as soon as possible. His cell phone rang, and he picked it up, not recognizing the number. “Nemec.”
“Lieutenant Nemec, my name is Detective Chief Inspector Shepherds, yer commanding officer whilst yer here. We’ve secured this line, so I thought I’d ring, say hello, and see how things are going with Mrs. Barnes.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. Mrs. Barnes? Even over a secure line surely the façade had to be maintained. “Morning, sir. My wife’s not feeling that great this morning. I called the doctor out. He’s just left.”
Shepherds tone changed. “I see. Which doctor did ye call?”
“Steve Scott, from Harborside Surgery. Dave McArthur recommended him, and said he was the police surgeon.”
“Aye, he is. Dr. Scott is the right choice for her care. It makes sense tae use the police surgeon. What’s the diagnosis? Or is it private?”
“It’s private. He wants her to go for blood tests and a scan at the hospital to rule out a couple of things.”
“Nae problem. Let us know who her consultant is, and we’ll run a check on him.”
“Thanks. Bye, sir.” Luke ended the call and put the phone away. He made the coffee and carried the cups upstairs.
Sara was on the bed, crying.
Luke put the coffees down and sat next to her. “Come here.”
Sara leaned against him as he wrapped his arms around her. Her tears soaked into his sweater. After a minute, she glanced up. “I’m sorry. I made you all wet again.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll dry.” He pushed the hair back from her face. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Think so.”
Sara was a perfect fit, nestling against his chest. So small and vulnerable, the burden of responsibility weighed heavily on him. Lord, this changes everything. Show me what to do.
He was still holding her when the doorbell rang. He gave her a smile. “I’ll go answer that.”
Luke went downstairs. He opened the door as far as the chain latch would allow.
“Mr. Nemec?” The young guy held out an ID. “CompTech. I’ve got the computer ye ordered.”
Luke stood there for a moment, his mind going blank then he remembered Dave had organized the delivery. He could use it for his other assignment. He opened the door. “Oh, right. Could you put it in the dining room, please? I’ll set it up myself.”
The young man carried the three boxes through to the dining room. “Sign here, please, sir.”
Luke signed and showed him out.
As the delivery man left, Dave and Carole arrived with the shopping.
Luke helped carry the bags to the kitchen.
Carole had two quilts slung over her arms.
“We got everything ye wanted,” Dave said.
“Thanks. How much more do I owe you?”
“Ye’ve got change as we’re lending ye the duvets. How’s Sara?”
Luke forced a smile. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he told Sara it would be. “She’s pregnant.”
Carole squealed. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations. Yer so lucky. Can I see her?”
“Sure, she’s lying down upstairs.”
As Carole left, Dave put the last bag on the table. “Are ye all right?”
Luke sat down at the table and pushed a hand though his hair. “Yeah, just great. I told Shepherds.”
“Luke, ye have tae at least appear happy about this. People are going tae assume the baby’s yers.”
“Yeah, and Sara just loves that idea.” He took a deep breath. “Did Carole accept the story about our friendship and how we met? I haven’t told Sara yet and we’d better have the same story.”
“I embellished it slightly in the car tae make it more believable. Our schools had a pen-pal scheme. We connected because we both wanted tae go intae law enforcement. When we got older and I went intae law enforcement, we actually worked an international case together. Ye advised me on a technical aspect of it. I kept out that yer a cop like we were told tae. I lost yer address when ye moved. Ye rang me at the station when ye knew ye were moving here. What about Sara? What story are we using for her?”
Luke sighed. “I talked to her and we’re sticking to the broken leg on the honeymoon. It’ll be simpler than pneumonia or something, and it’s the truth. Let’s just hope no one asks how she did it.”
Dave reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “If that’s what ye think is best, I’ll let the guv know. Here are those files ye wanted. Eyes only, eat after reading, and dinna put them on the hard drive, etcetera.”
Luke slid the flash drive into his pocket. “Thanks. Perhaps we’ll finally begin making headway on this case.”
The door opened. Luke forced his emotions down as Carole and Sara came into the kitchen. He’d better keep up the concerned husband act in front of Carole. He smiled at Sara. “Feeling better, hon?”
“Yes, thanks. Who was at the door?”
“The computer came. I’ll set it up after lunch.”
“I hear yer a writer,” Carole said. “Has anything been published over here?”
Luke shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s non-fiction, scientific stuff.” Well, a forward for a forensic paper, anyway.
“He’s writing a fiction novel this time though. Sci-fi,” Sara interjected. “Very hush-hush. He won’t even let me read it.”
Luke rolled his eyes. Of all the covers she could pick, she had to choose a sci-fi author? He glared at Sara. “It’s a work in progress, honey, you know that. No one reads it until it’s finished.”
Dave checked at his watch. “We must get going. I have tae be at work in an hour.”
Sara gave Luke a long glance and then turned to the others. “Why don’t you guys come over for dinner one evening next week?”
Carole smiled. “If yer sure yer up tae it, Tuesday would be good. I finish late on Tuesday, so I never have time tae cook.”
“Is Tuesday all right with ye, Luke?” Dave asked.
“That’s fine. I’ll see you guys out.” He rose, determined to have more than a few words with Sara before the day was out. As cute as she was, she was just pushing all the wrong buttons and making life so much harder for the both of them. He didn’t know a thing about science-fiction.
7
Sara started unpacking the shopping. She put away the cans and packets, stacking them neatly in the cupboards.
Luke came back in and unpacked the bedding and sweaters Carole had chosen. “Carole has good taste.” He handed Sara a large bag. “Here, this is for you.”
Sara hesitated. “What is it?”
“Open it, and find out.”
Sara took the bag and peeked inside. Nestling within the gaudy plastic carrier bag, were two canvases, several brushes of different sizes, some oils, a sketchpad and a number of drawing pencils varying from B through HB to H.
Wow. She gasped. “I can’t accept this.”
“Constable Lomas told me you love painting, and I know you haven’t got anything with you.”
“Leftenant, it’s too much. It’s a very kind thought, but I can’t accept it.”
“I thought maybe you could do a painting of the beach using one of those photos you took. We could download them onto the new computer and print them off.”
“I guess.” She drew in a deep breath, using that to change the subject. “Where are you going to put the computer?”
“I thought the dining room. I can turn it into a study. Then I have to put a partially-written sci-fi book on it. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Any time,” she replied, stifling a grin.
“You could have picked a better reason for us having a computer. Like using the net to talk to my family back home.”
“And have Carole ask why you never leave the house to go to work? This gives you a reason to work from home. Do you want help to set it up?”
�
��Thanks, but no. This way if I do it wrong, I only have myself to blame.”
****
Sara watched Luke set up the computer on the dining table and waited until he’d finished before saying what was on her mind. “It could do with a proper desk.”
“This’ll work.” Luke finished connecting the leads and started loading the software. “Do you have the software for your camera?”
“It’s upstairs. I’ll get it.”
Sara went upstairs and into her bedroom. Rummaging through her things, she finally found the CD Luke needed and took it downstairs. She handed it to him. “I’ll make the other bed, Leftenant.”
“You can take the master bedroom. The room I started off in last night will be fine for me.”
“Where would you like me to take the master bedroom?”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
Sara smiled. “You said to take it. That means pick it up, and move it. Like this. I’ll take your cup.” She picked it up and held it. “See. If, on the other hand, you mean I can have it, as in use it, then all right, if you’re sure, Leftenant.”
“Positive. And stop calling me lieutenant. It’s Luke.”
Sara placed the cup back on the table. Calling him Luke would complicate things, and life was complicated enough without anything added into the mix. She liked it when he called her Sara, but liking it didn’t make it right.
She went into the kitchen and grabbed the bedding Carole had chosen. Taking it upstairs, she made up the bed for him, and then headed into her room to unpack. She hung her things in the wardrobe and placed the rest in the drawers. She sat on the bed and picked up Jamie’s photo again. It was so unfair.
Twenty minutes later, a knock at the door broke her train of thought. “Come in.”
Luke came in. “Hey. You all right?”
Sara shook her head. “No.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
“I’ve got the computer set up. Want to try out some of the games while I make lunch?”
“Not really.” Sara put the photo down and sighed. “All right, I’ll come down.”
Luke glanced at the picture. “Is that Jamie?”
“Yeah, it was taken after we got engaged.”
“He looks happy.”
“We both were.”
Sara followed Luke downstairs and headed into the dining room. Sitting at the computer, it wasn’t long before she worked out the Internet settings, even though there was no shortcut to it on the desktop. She hit the connect button and was surprised when it started dialing.
Luke stuck his head around the door and glanced at the screen. “What are you doing? The Internet is off limits.”
“Why? There are a couple of sites I used to use. I haven’t chatted with my online friends in a long time.”
“I need the Internet for work, or we wouldn’t even have it. I’ll check out the sites you want to use. If they’re safe, you can use them.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, wondering when her prison sentence would end.
“You’re welcome. Lunch is ready.”
She followed him to the kitchen. At least he hadn’t said no outright, although he probably would.
The sooner this was over, the better.
****
After lunch, they spent the afternoon on the Internet.
Sara sat there as Luke checked the sites she wanted to use.
“All right, you can have limited access on the condition you send no e-mail, IM’s, or visit chat rooms.”
“Half the fun is the chatting and emails, but I guess you do have a point.” Sara crossed to the window and pulled the curtains. It was barely three thirty, but it was already dark. She turned back to Luke. “I’ll go make a start on dinner.”
“All right. I’ll work here for a bit. Shout if you need me.” He pulled the USB from his shirt pocket and stuck it into the computer.
“Sure.” Sara went into the kitchen. She put the lights on and pulled the curtains. Opening the drawer, she took out the knife and pulled some veggies from the cupboard. The phone rang, but before she could get there, it stopped. She started dicing the carrots into tiny pieces with hard deliberate movements.
Luke came into the kitchen. “That was Doctor Scott. Your appointment is eleven-fifteen on Monday. Your sonogram—scan is December fifth at ten.”
“All right.” The knife came down hard, and pieces of carrot flew to the floor.
He bent down and picked them up, tossing them into the bin. “What’s the carrot ever done to you?”
“Didn’t like the way it looked at me.”
“Fair enough, so long as you don’t do that to me if I look at you the same way. I’ll take you to the clinic and go in with you.”
“The doting husband?” Sara chopped hard, missing her fingers by a fraction.
Luke grasped her hand, stopping her before she could hurt herself or dice the carrots into oblivion. “Sara, neither of us wants this. You should be with Jamie, having this baby with him. Not stuck here on your own with me.”
His touch burned into her hand. Sara pulled her hand away, ignoring him, and resumed chopping the carrots.
Luke sighed and changed the subject. “Do you go to church?”
No one had allowed her to go for months, now. Was he asking because he’d actually take her? “Yes—when I’m allowed to. I miss it, miss the fellowship. Worshipping at home alone just isn’t the same. Why?”
“I know what you mean. I’ve been a Christian for years, never missed a Sunday unless I was rostered on duty.”
“What denomination?” She chopped harder, her shoulders shaking, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“Baptist. You?” He turned her towards him. “Sara?”
“Baptist.”
“What’s wrong?”
Sara turned away and put down the knife. She covered her face with her hands. “Jamie wanted kids. This is just so unfair.”
Luke held her gently. “You can tell the baby all about Jamie. Make a memory book, a collection of photos, stories about Jamie, how you met, what you did together, his job and his family. Let the baby know how important her dad was—and still is—to you.”
“That sounds lovely. Can you pass the tissues?”
Luke handed Sara the box. “You could do it on the computer, print it off, and put it in a leather album. You could include a wedding photo. Shall I get them sent up?”
“Please. I’ve made you wet again. You should ask for extra pay every time I cry all over you. You’d be rich in no time.”
Luke smiled. “Maybe I will. Do you want to go to church tomorrow?”
“I thought I was grounded.”
“You’re not grounded. I want to keep you safe, but I think we can make the exception for church. The morning service, anyway. I can get Dave to come with us to provide backup, or we’ll go with them to theirs. I’ll ring the station and get the OK first, though.”
“Thank you. I must finish dinner. Otherwise, we won’t eat tonight.”
Sara washed her hands before finishing the dinner preparation. She put the fish in the oven and the veggies on to boil. Luke was on the phone, but she was unable to make out anything he said. She’d known from the outset there was something different about him. Being a Christian explained it. Perhaps that would make this slightly easier, being with someone who shared her beliefs.
Pulling across the bag of art supplies, she spread them out on the table. The colors were lovely and exactly right for a beach scene. It must have cost him a small fortune. She’d have to pay him for them. Eighteen months she’d known Jamie, and he hadn’t bought her as much as a pencil for her art.
She’d known this guy less than a week, and he’d bought virtually the entire art shop. Why would he do something like that? What had she done to deserve it? And why didn’t Jamie do the same for me?
She ran her hand over the canvas, imagining how it would look with the oils spread over its surface. Slowly pulling the s
ketchpad towards her, she picked up one of the pencils. She opened the book. A blank page was ready for her to work on.
Closing her eyes, Sara visualized the beach she’d lived beside and walked on for four months. Lost in her thoughts and unaware of her surroundings, she began to draw, finding peace for the first time since Jamie died.
****
Luke came into the kitchen. The pans had almost boiled dry. He smiled at Sara, engrossed in her drawing. He didn’t want to disturb her, so he mashed the potatoes, added salt and pepper, and grated cheese on them before placing it under the grill to brown.
Luke peeped over Sara’s shoulder at her drawing, amazed by what he saw.
Clouds scurried across the sky, waves crashed onto the sand, and the breakers whipped high in the wind. A solitary figure stood at the base of the huge sand dunes, dwarfed by the vast loneliness of the beach.
Sara added seagulls, tossed by the wind.
He could almost hear their cries as they soared and wheeled.
He went back to the stove and drained the carrots and corn. He was loath to interrupt her, but he had to. He dropped a hand onto her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready, Sara.”
Sara raised her head. “It can’t be. I haven’t made it yet.”
“You were busy, so I did it.” He pointed at her picture. “That’s really good.”
“Thank you. I’ll put it away for now.” She stood and started clearing away her things.
Luke dished up the food, carried the plates to the table, and sat down. He smiled at her as she sat opposite him. He said grace then picked up his fork. “I got permission for us to go to church on Sunday mornings.”
Sara smiled. “Cool. It’ll be good.”
His heart flip-flopped at her smile and he tried to control it. “We have to have back up. Dave and Carole go anyway, and two other officers will be there.”
Sara grimaced. “Isn’t that overkill? And won’t Carole wonder why there are so many cops around?”
