by Jodi Thomas
“Allie,” he said with more caring than I’d ever heard him use. “She’s not going to take Jefferson’s Crossing away from you and Nana.”
I stopped, not able to look up at him even in the shadows. “Nana will give it to her.”
Luke rubbed his warm hand against the cold side of my cheek. “Nana doesn’t own it. You do. That may be why Jefferson left it to you. Maybe he guessed that you’d be the one taking care of Nana and you’d need a place. Maybe he figured you might be strong enough to hold on to it.”
“How would he know that?”
Luke laughed, his breath close against my face. “Carla said she came by and talked to him. Thirty minutes with that woman would teach a man a lot about what not to do.”
“But she is pretty. She’s always looked like a dress-up doll to me. Everything matching. All fitting perfect. All smelling of roses.”
He hugged me close. “There are a lot of men who don’t care for that kind of pretty.”
“Yeah, Willie.” I laughed against his shirt and hugged back.
“And me,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.
When his hug tightened, I moved into his warmth, needing the solid feel of him tonight.
My arm connected with the cold steel of a gun just below his armpit.
I jumped back. “You’re wearing a gun.”
Luke swore.
He reached for me, but I took another step backward. No lake bum, no fisherman wore a gun strapped around his shoulder.
“It’s not a gun, Allie, it’s a Glock 9mm automatic.” He swore again, realizing he wasn’t calming me down by being more specific. “I told you I planned to go out by the dam tonight and look for our nervous drug dealer.”
“You didn’t tell me you planned to shoot him.” I took another step backward. The man I cared about, the quiet drifter with the bluest eyes in Texas, wasn’t the kind of man who went hunting for another. “I don’t know you at all,” I said, thinking of the dumb kissing game we’d played earlier. Maybe I should have asked if he’d killed anyone lately or what side of the law he walked on.
The pieces of him began to fit together. Willie said he was shot once. He lived out here all alone. He avoided the sheriff. He carried a gun. All he needed was a neon sign saying OUTLAW and I might be able to figure it out.
“Allie. Let me explain.”
I headed back toward the dock. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” I didn’t think I could handle learning that he’d killed before, or that his picture was in every post office.
If I left now, if I moved fast enough, maybe I could outrun the heartache that I’d fallen for a criminal. The first man I’d been attracted to since college and he had to be a Glock-toting, unemployed drifter. How many “wrong for you” signs did I need?
It took me a few breaths to realize he was matching my steps.
I glanced over. He wasn’t even breathing hard. The guy was in shape, and for the first time it dawned on me that he might not keep so fit just so he could race the moon at night.
“You going to slow down and let me explain?”
“No.” I didn’t want to hear anything. Every time I’d been interested in a man I’d hung around until he cut me up into little pieces. This time I was getting out while I could still stand. What would there be next-pills in pockets, a picture of his kids in his wallet?
“Allie?” His voice was cold, hard. “You will listen.”
Maybe he was going out to the dam to kill the drug dealer because the skiddery guy was moving in on his territory. Maybe Luke had this county sewed up. That would explain a few things, like maybe why he was in my house when we’d arrived. He had to check me out and make sure I wouldn’t interrupt his drug trafficking.
“Allie?” Luke’s hands closed around my arms as I reached for the dock. In one sweep, he lifted me up and sat me down hard on the boards.
I looked down at his blue eyes and waited. At half his weight, I couldn’t fight him, but that didn’t mean I had to listen or believe.
“I should have told you earlier, but I didn’t know who to trust. I’ve been a special agent with the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms for ten years. When I heard Jefferson died, I decided to come home and check it out. It didn’t make sense that a man who spent his life on the lake would accidentally fall in one day and die.”
“You work for the government?”
“Yeah, I’m like a cop only I work mostly undercover. I came out here to see what I could find out, not as an agent, but because Jefferson and my grandfather were friends.” He lowered his head and swore. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t pick up the clues that someone was running drugs sooner. I thought they were just using abandoned cabins for meth labs. I didn’t know someone was selling out here. Dillon could have been killed.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I didn’t know who I could trust. Except Willie, of course. He and Mrs. Deals are the only two out here who know what I do for a living.”
“Willie! You told Willie? What about me?”
“I didn’t tell Willie, my grandfather did years ago. But that doesn’t matter. You stood to gain the most from Jefferson’s death. You were my most likely suspect.”
“What?” I scrambled to my feet. I felt his big hands sliding along my body as I moved, but he didn’t try to stop me. “When were you going to finally trust me? When I lost the store and Carla became number-one suspect in your book?”
Luke had the nerve to laugh. He jumped up on the dock and caught up to me. “No, I knew you didn’t kill him. And of course I let Nana off the list as soon as I learned she could make homemade cinnamon rolls.”
He was trying to be funny. I wasn’t buying. How could I even think of getting involved with a man who didn’t trust me? No, worse-thought I might be a killer. I shoo spiders outside.
We reached the door to the store and he whispered, “I couldn’t figure out how to tell you, Allie. Telling people what I do is not something that’s ever come easy for me. My safety in the field depends on it.”
“How did Mrs. Deals find out?” It was a dumb question that didn’t matter, but I asked anyway.
“Her only child was an agent. He disappeared years ago while working undercover.” Luke forced words out as if each came hard. “I met him when I was a boy out here and looked up to him. He got me the job, then vanished a month later. He was a good agent. When he didn’t come in, we all knew he was dead, but officially he was missing.”
I faced him. “She doesn’t act like she knows you.”
“I know. I can’t tell if she thinks it should have been me who disappeared, or if facing me reminds her that her son is gone. Last night, with everyone around, was the first time she’d even looked at me.”
He straightened before me, no longer with the rounded shoulders of a man trying not to be seen. “I’ve made more enemies than friends, and the few people I know when I’m off-duty don’t know what I do.”
I looked at him, needing time to get away and think. “Your secret’s safe with me, Officer Morgan.” My words seemed to freeze the air between us.
“It’s Agent Morgan and it’s time I went to work.”
He shoved away from the door frame and disappeared into the night before I could think of anything to say.
One tear worked down my face. I was going to lose this place, this home I almost believed I had. Nana and I would be out on the streets again. But worse, I’d already lost what I thought I had a chance of having: Happiness.
Luke had been friendly because I was a suspect and I’d been fool enough to think it might be love.
When would I ever stop turning those corners looking for a better world on the other side?
Chapter 32
2100 hours
South Shore
Luke stormed through the pine trees to his place, frustrated at the way he’d handled Allie. Or, more accurately, not handled her. A moment before she’d touched his shoulder holster, he�
�d been thinking about bringing her back to his place and going a hell of a lot further than kissing.
He wanted her so badly he couldn’t sleep. All through dinner, she’d played a game of brushing his leg, then looking away like nothing happened. He’d been so turned on he could have been eating part of the table and he wouldn’t have noticed. When they’d stepped out on the dock he’d known it was time for him to go, but he’d wanted just a few more minutes with her.
That few more minutes had cost him her trust. If he’d just told her who he was before she found the Glock, she might have understood him and his reasons for hanging around. He could have counted on her to help him piece together the last few minutes of Jefferson Platt’s life.
Now he wasn’t sure she’d ever speak to him again. He’d spent too many years being nobody, saying nothing. Now the silence that had always protected him had cost him dearly.
Luke reached his cabin and grabbed his gear. He knew the three stooges from the other night were probably setting up another lab somewhere right now. This time when he found them, he’d call in and wait for backup.
He moved soundlessly to his canoe. If he didn’t spot the new lab by midnight, he’d come back, store the canoe, and drive across the bridge flashing his lights twice. Luke reminded himself he was an expert trained to do a job. In his gut he had a feeling the drugs on this lake and Jefferson’s death were connected. He’d find the meth lab first, then go back and face Allie.
Luke smiled, knowing he’d picked the easier of the two jobs to do first.
Chapter 33
I tried everything to sleep, but my eyes were broken blinds stuck on open. Nana snored from the other bed. She’d had a busy day, what with Carla coming and then cooking a big meal, but her love for this place grew daily. This morning she’d even mentioned that she planned to have a garden next spring.
I’d read the letter from Garrison D. Walker twice before I finally turned off the light. It was all official, but I couldn’t help but feel it had been hurriedly written. My mother wasn’t one to waste time, but this seemed more than that. This speed seemed near panic. I could imagine her rushing into Walker’s office crying so hard she didn’t notice the first two buttons of her blouse were undone. She’d plead until he agreed to look into the matter and then, before she left, she’d demand he inform me. In my mother’s mind, she probably thought the letter would frighten me off the land.
Grinning, I remembered something Nana might have said if she’d understood the problem. “Well,” she would say, “Carla better have another think coming.”
In my mind, I flipped through all the things my mother had said. One kept rolling around in my thoughts. She’d said she’d been promoted and the car was a bonus. Judging from the stream of lies she’d told me since birth, I could almost bet that she was lying about the promotion, and maybe about the car. Also, I could never remember her coming to check on us. Once, when I’d called to tell her we were out of money, she’d responded, “How is that my problem?”
There wasn’t a mothering bone in Carla Daniels. She’d come for the place and nothing more. But she’d lived in Boston and New York. Why would she want a little nothing house on the lake?
All I could come up with was that Carla must need money bad and she needed it fast. I felt sick to my stomach realizing that Nana would give it to her if she could. Carla blamed everything bad that happened to her on Nana. I even heard her blame Nana for having me. Carla had said if Nana had watched her closer, she wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I’d figured out a long time ago that Nana thought that if she kept on giving, at some point Carla would give back.
I saw no hope of that ever happening. Something must have twisted in Carla years ago and no amount of love from Nana would turn it back.
I was no longer a child who had to stand and watch Carla take next month’s grocery money when she left. I’d been on my own long enough to be strong. If she wanted anything from me, she’d have a fight on her hands.
About two A.M. I got up, pulled on my jeans and sweater, and went for a stroll along the same stretch of beach Luke and I had walked earlier. I listened to the water lap the shore and could feel myself growing older by the minute. Part of me mourned the parents I never had. Part of me thanked God I had Nana. Most of me just wanted to live in a world for a while that wasn’t constantly changing.
I let my body relax as I walked. I loved the way the shadows crowded the lake at night, turning the edges to velvet black. I’d thought winter would be an ugly time here after the color of fall, but it wouldn’t be. Winter had its own special beauty out here, I was sure. And the autumn sunsets might not hold the warmth of summer, but the colors glowed gold and orange, spreading out in a long farewell. And the willows and pines turned to ink sketches over gray skies, reminding me of Georgia O’Keefe’s early work done of New York City’s skyline at night.
A light flickered in the tree-blackened darkness a hundred feet from where I stood. I wouldn’t have seen it except that I stood on the beach straight in front of where the light blinked.
The beam blinked again and I moved closer. The moon was high enough for me to make out Luke’s big frame lifting a canoe from the water. He carried a backpack across one shoulder and a flashlight clipped to his belt that pulsed light as he moved.
He headed inland.
I followed.
Within a minute we were in too many trees for me to see him moving, but I followed the flicker of light that dotted the ground in front of me. I heard the canoe drop against wood and then the creak of boards as if he’d stepped onto a porch. The night was so black, I couldn’t make out a cabin. I sensed it more than saw it. I hurried closer and caught the light reflecting on a door. The hinges sounded as the door swung open and I heard the thud of what I guessed was the backpack hitting the floor.
I moved closer, stumbling twice over roots. When I reached the porch, my tennis shoes made no sound as I stepped up.
A low light came on from within the cabin. Taking one step closer, I watched Luke from the open doorway. He’d pulled off his jacket and was unbuckling his shoulder holster. Soundlessly, I stepped over the threshold. I watched him tug off his shirt and shoes. Suddenly, he froze, and I sensed I was in danger.
I didn’t even breathe when he turned slightly and stared at me. I had the strong instinct that if he hadn’t been able to see me clearly I would already be dead.
He shifted, straightening, moving his hand away from the butt of his Glock. The pale glow of a single light flooded me as he stepped out of its way. “What do you want, Allie?”
I could tell by the tired tone in his voice that he hadn’t had any more luck on his quest than I’d had in getting to sleep.
I took one step into his neat little cabin. A living area with a sofa that probably doubled as a bed and one reading chair by the fireplace, a wall that must act as a kitchen, and a table for one by the window.
He watched me. The silence saying more than if he’d yelled at me.
“I don’t want to argue,” I managed. “I don’t even want to talk.”
He didn’t move.
“I can’t sleep. Would you consider not saying a word and just holding me for a while?”
He looked away for a second and I let out a breath, realizing that I’d closed a door earlier. Part of me was still angry and I guessed he might be also. How could he have thought I had anything to do with Jefferson’s death? Part of me didn’t care right now. I just didn’t want to feel so alone.
The light blinked once and was out. The cabin was as black as the night outside. I turned to where I knew the door was and wondered if I trusted my memory enough to try to make it back to the shoreline. From there the moon would light my path.
Before I could take a step, I felt Luke’s arm go around my waist and pull me to him. He pressed against my back, feeling like a wall, strong and protective. I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to talk,” I whispered. “I don’t eve
n want to think. I just don’t want to be alone.”
He lifted me up and carried me to what felt like the old couch I’d noticed. Luke sat down, pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me. He didn’t try to talk or kiss me, he just held me. The kind of hold a little girl feels from her dad when she’s sad and then spends the rest of her adult life looking for just that kind of safe hold again. Only I’d never had a father hold me in such simple safety.
I nestled my face between his neck and shoulder, loving the smell of him and the slow pounding of his heart. I told myself what he did for a living didn’t matter. He was still my Luke. The same Luke who had been near every time I needed him since we’d arrived.
Slowly, the sounds of the lake whispered in the night. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
Dawn woke me. Sometime during the night we’d shifted and spread out across the length of the couch. Luke’s arm rested just under my breasts and his knee trapped both my legs.
I wiggled.
He pulled me tighter.
There was no way I could slip away gracefully and act like this had never happened. After debating my options-none-I poked him in the chest.
He opened one eye, then went back to sleep.
I poked harder.
He opened both eyes and stared at me as if he couldn’t quite remember why I was in his cabin.
I shoved at his arm and he let me go.
I stood, straightened my shirt, and looked for one of my tennis shoes that had fallen off. Hopping around to put it on, I kept an eye on Luke as he slowly sat up and plowed his fingers through his hair.
“We still not talking?”
“Right,” I said more because I couldn’t think of how to tell him how lonely and frightened I’d been last night than because I was still mad at him.
Running out of the cabin, I made it ten feet before I glanced back. He was standing in the doorway watching me go. I thought of backtracking, but he hadn’t trusted me with the truth and I’d be nuts to get involved with a man like him. He was a man who obviously liked being alone. I not only came with my own luggage, I came with Nana’s as well. Besides, Luke hadn’t offered involvement.
