“Why? You are.”
He cut his eyes at her. “I’m not sure I like that you can read me that well.”
“I’ve had a couple of years to study you.”
He raised a brow and shook his head.
“What?” she asked.
“I guess it’s just becoming clear to me how closed-minded I can be. I judged you based strictly on your age, not on who you are. I don’t really like learning that about myself.”
She smiled. “But you’re willing to change, right?”
“I’m willing.”
The doors slid open and Luke placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her into the elevator. Bruno followed and sat next to Luke even while he nudged her hand for a scratch.
She obliged, thinking about Luke’s confession. He’d judged her without knowing her. Well, at least she now knew why he never gave her a second look or bothered to talk about anything besides work.
Once they were on the way down, he got very quiet and seemed lost in thought. “I still look for my mother’s killer.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“I was thinking about Jordan and the fact that his killer is out there somewhere. This is hitting home with me in a way no other case has, and it has to do with my mother’s death. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime, but for now, I need to concentrate on getting you back into the car without a sniper taking a shot at you.”
His mother’s killer? How had she not known about that?
Then again, their conversations for the past few years had been strictly professional and surface-level. Still. She would have thought she’d have heard something in regard to his mother’s murder just by being in the office with everyone he worked with and was close to.
Or maybe it was a taboo topic, and everyone respected that.
So, she would, too. She wouldn’t speak of it unless he brought it up.
The elevator jerked, and Sophie grabbed the rail to keep from falling to her knees. Luke slipped an arm around her and pulled her against his chest while Bruno barked and lowered himself to the floor.
A loud screech sounded, and the car raced down, then slammed to a stop. Only Luke’s grip on her kept her from losing her balance. “What was that? What’s going on?” she asked.
He grabbed the phone from the box on the wall and held it to his ear. Then let go of the handset. “It’s not working. Try your cell.”
Before she could pull the device from her pocket, the elevator jerked once more into a rapid descent. This time she clutched the rail and sank to the floor. Luke fell beside her, one arm wrapping her tight against him while he held on to the rail with the other.
“Luke!”
The car picked up speed.
Luke’s hold tightened. “Hang on!”
Panic attacked her, and she dipped her head against his chest to pray. Then the free fall stopped, yanking the car hard. She slammed against Luke and he fell into the wall. Bruno barked and leaped on top of Luke.
“Why does it keep doing that?” she cried.
“I don’t know,” he said with a grunt as he moved the dog off of him with a comforting pat, “but the safety features are keeping it from plunging all the way to the ground—and keeping the car from going down as fast as it could—which is why we’re not being tossed around like rag dolls. Regardless, we need to get out of here.”
“Yes, getting out sounds really good,” she said, heart thundering, fear choking her.
While he waited a few seconds as though trying to decide if they were going down again, Sophie dialed 911 with shaking fingers. Luke moved away from her to the doors, slid his fingers into the narrow opening and pulled. Nothing. “Stay on the floor and hold Bruno in case we fall again.”
“911. What’s your emergency?”
Sophie rattled off the situation.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered to Luke.
He looked up. “I need to find something to pry these doors open with.”
Sophie turned her attention back to the dispatcher, who assured her someone was on the way.
The sudden pounding on those doors elicited a squeaky scream from her tight throat before she realized it was someone who might want to help. “We’re in here!”
“I’m the building super,” the deep bass voice called out. “We’re going to get you out. Just hold tight.”
“Hold tight,” she muttered, but she did dig her fingers into the dog’s fur. He licked her face and she settled her forehead against his, still holding the phone while the dispatcher continued to update her as to where the nearest police cruiser was.
The car dropped once more—the high-pitched squealing said the brakes and cables were trying hard to do their job, but something was working against them.
When they finally came to yet another abrupt halt, Luke scrambled to his knees and moved to the door. “Someone’s at the control box, trying to override the safety features!”
Sophie stared at him. “You think someone’s doing this on purpose?”
“You have a better explanation?”
“But how?”
“He followed us here, knew we’d be on the elevator and decided to take it out with us on it.”
“Anyone could have been on it. How would they know when to try to send the car plummeting?”
“All he had to do was watch the floors. When the elevator was called to the twelfth floor after we’d been up there awhile, he figured it would be us going back down.”
“But what if it wasn’t?”
“Doesn’t matter. It was.”
“And he just happened to have an Out of Order sign to make sure we took the right elevator?”
Luke shrugged. “Maybe he saw it somewhere else and grabbed it.”
A screech came from the doors. Sophie flinched and ducked, preparing for another drop. When it didn’t come, she opened her eyes to see the doors slide open.
A pair of brown eyes stared down at them. “Are you two okay?” the man asked.
Luke grabbed Sophie’s hand and Bruno’s leash and helped them out of the car. Sophie sank to the floor, not even realizing she was crying.
“I think so,” Luke said. “Thanks for coming to the rescue.” Luke dropped beside her. “It’s okay, Sophie.”
“I’m Cliff, the super. She going to be all right?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Sophie sniffed. “I’ll decide if I’m going to be all right or not, thank you.” She pressed her fingers against her eyes. “He could have killed us.”
“I think that was the plan, but he wasn’t counting on all of the safety features.”
“I thought he was bold before,” she said, dropping her hands from her face, “snatching me right out of the auditorium, but at least no one else was in danger. This could have seriously hurt someone else.” She met his gaze. “You.”
“Guy was in the elevator control room like you thought,” Cliff said. “I had one of my workers try to grab him, but the guy fled. I called the cops.”
“I called them, too.”
His radio crackled, and he listened, then nodded. “Cops are on the way up.”
Two uniformed officers arrived and Sophie rubbed her eyes. “He’s not going to stop,” she told Luke. “He’s going to keep trying to get to me until he finally does.”
Luke pulled her close. “No way, Sophie. That’s not going to happen.”
She took comfort in his words even while she wished she could believe them.
The next two hours passed in a blur for Sophie as she gave her statement and learned that a man dressed in a baseball cap and sunglasses had used a gun with a suppressor to shoot out the lock on the elevator control room door, then had done his best to sabotage the car. The only witness was a scared fourteen-year-old girl who saw him do it, then ra
n to her apartment to tell her mother. After a debate with her husband about whether or not to get involved, the mother had finally called the police.
“We’ll get the description out,” the young female officer said, “and see if anyone else comes forward. I wouldn’t count on it, though. The fact that the mother did is a rare occurrence around here.”
And then it was over. Sophie let Luke get her back into the SUV. As though he could sense her distress, Bruno put his head on her shoulder and she gave his ears another scratch.
Luke’s mood had taken a turn for the silent and she figured he was probably processing the conversation they’d had with Carlos, not to mention the adventure in the elevator.
She shuddered and refused to think about that. She’d simply do her best to block the entire incident from her mind and if Luke didn’t want to talk, she’d think about his previous words. The ones where he mentioned that his mother had been killed—and her killer had never been caught. It was a hard thing to digest, but she knew one thing. Luke was more determined than ever that another killer not go free.
Please, God, let us find the person responsible for Jordan’s death.
Because she didn’t know how his brothers and Katie would be able to move on without justice for the one they all loved.
TEN
The morning of Jordan’s funeral dawned bright and sunny. Sophie would have thought nature was mocking their heavy hearts if she didn’t know that Jordan would have chosen a day just like this for his final goodbye.
He’d been a cop and he’d had no problem facing the reality that every day could be his last, but he hadn’t been morbid about it. Instead of scowling at the weather for its cheerful disposition, she thanked God for sending it. She chose to believe He’d done so in honor of Jordan.
The twenty-four-seven protection seemed to have staved off any more attacks and while she was grateful for it, it was driving her crazy, too. She wanted her life back. She wanted to wake up and realize everything was just a nightmare and Jordan wasn’t really dead.
She sighed and pressed fingers to her eyes. She needed to stop wishing for the impossible and deal with reality, no matter how much she was struggling.
And then there was the fact that she couldn’t dispel the guilt of taking over Sam’s bedroom, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what to do about it. Sam had come home and taken the couch or used David’s room when the other man was gone. Both men were gracious and welcoming, never making her feel like an interloper. Unfortunately, her situation was what it was for the time being.
“So, quit thinking about it,” she said. But honestly, she’d rather think about that than what lay ahead.
The funeral.
Jordy’s funeral.
She grabbed her phone and texted her dad. You and Trey okay?
Her phone buzzed, but it wasn’t her father answering. Katie had texted. Sit with me today, please. With the family. If you’re comfortable doing that.
Her poor, heartbroken friend. Sophie texted back. Of course. I’d be honored.
And she would be. While she styled her hair for the funeral, her mind tumbled back to that conversation with Luke as they’d left Carlos’s home. Luke’s mother had been murdered and he still hadn’t told her how or when. She could do the digging on the story herself, but she wanted to hear it from him.
Over the last three days, he’d stayed busy while keeping her near. However, he’d seemed to pull away, distancing himself from her emotionally and she wasn’t sure why. As a result, they’d had very little time to talk about anything not related to the case. Or Jordan’s funeral.
He’d tell her when he was ready. Obviously, he wasn’t there yet.
Her phone vibrated.
We’re fine, Sophie. You just take care of yourself right now. Give my regards to the Jamesons and tell them I’m sorry I won’t be able to be there. I can’t get off of work.
They’ll understand. It’s okay. You need anything?
Nothing. Love you, hon.
You too, Dad.
Maybe her father wasn’t as helpless as she’d thought.
A text from Trey. What kind of fabric softener do we use?
But Trey was. She answered him and he, too, expressed his sorrow for the Jameson family.
With one last push on a bobby pin that held her hair in a bun, she started when a shadow outside the window caught her eye. The motion jerked her hair down, ruining the work she’d put into creating the professional bun.
Sheer curtains covered the windows, but the way the sun was shining, she could make out the silhouette of someone wearing a baseball cap standing just outside her bedroom.
She strode forward to the side of the window and threw aside the fabric. The person stumbled back, caught his balance and took off.
“Luke!”
Her cry brought him running. “What is it?”
“Someone was outside the window! He just ran off.”
Luke whirled and headed for the front door. “Stay here.”
Pressing a hand against her chest as though it would help calm her racing heart, Sophie peered out the window to see Luke step into her line of sight, weapon held in his right hand. She waited, watching him search the area, ready to leap out the window to offer whatever meager assistance she could if it appeared he needed it.
It didn’t take him long to finish searching the yard. He even went out the back gate to check. Having him out of her line of sight didn’t sit well with her, and she was on the verge of going after him when he stepped back into the yard and shut the gate behind him. He looked up and caught her eye. With a shake of his head, he walked toward the door.
Trembling, she checked the lock on the window, grateful to find it securely in place.
Several heart-thumping seconds passed before the sound of the front door opening sent her hurrying from the bedroom to find Luke tucking his weapon back into his holster. Bruno flopped onto the kitchen floor.
“Did you see him?” she asked.
“No. I saw his footprints, though.”
Sophie pressed her palms to her eyes. “I think it was the same guy who kidnapped me from headquarters. It looked like the same ball cap.”
“Okay, I guess this guy is back. He might have been watching the place trying to get you alone.”
“But you’re here.”
“I went out the front door a little while ago to take Bruno for a quick walk just as David was leaving for work. I knew you would be all right. I didn’t come back in the front. I took a shortcut through the back and came in that way.”
“So anyone watching the house would have seen both of you leave,” Sophie said, “not realizing you’d come back in, and thought I was here alone.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s just awesome.” Her tone clearly conveyed that it was anything but. “I’m going to go fix my hair again, then I’m going to need some coffee.”
“I’m going to change out of these sweats and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Fifteen minutes later, she returned to the kitchen to find Luke sitting at the table sipping coffee. Bruno lay stretched on his side, eyes at half-mast. At her entrance, his ears twitched, and his tail thumped once as though saying, “Welcome back.” Then his eyes shut, and a light snore reached her.
Her gaze snagged Luke’s and her breath stilled in her lungs. Dressed in his ceremonial blues, he was incredibly handsome. Although the days had passed in a blur of work, the evenings had been spent talking. About everything and nothing. Certainly not his mother’s death. However, they had discovered a mutual love of Scrabble and chess, and so far were neck and neck on wins and losses.
And yet, even with the competition and light laughter as they played and teased one another, she couldn’t help feeling like Luke was holding a piece of himself back. Like he felt like he had to keep her a
t arm’s length. She didn’t like it but wasn’t sure what to do about it. Or if there even was anything she could do.
“Sophie?” Luke raised a brow.
“Sorry. I was just thinking.” Ignoring the flush creeping into her cheeks, she grabbed a mug and placed the coffee pod into the maker and shut the lid.
“Are you okay?”
“As okay as I can be. I can’t believe we’ll bury our boss today. It’s surreal.”
“I know. Did you get some sleep at least?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“Yeah.”
The wealth of understanding in his voice vaporized all thoughts of her crazy attraction to the man and the fact that she knew he was attracted to her even though he was fighting it.
Today was about Jordy, not about what was possibly developing between her and Luke. “Katie texted me,” she said. “She wants me to sit with the family.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. She thinks of you as a sister.”
Sophie nodded. The tightness in her throat blocked any words she might have.
He stood and wrapped his arms around her, his lips next to her ear. “It’s okay, Sophie.”
“What is?” For the moment, his barriers were down and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to take comfort in his embrace.
“The fact that we want to smile. Or laugh. Don’t feel guilty because you have flashes of joy.”
His spot-on assessment of her feelings sent her emotions reeling. The fact that he was willing to go that deep into a conversation gave her hope. “My mind knows you’re right. Maybe after the funeral—or after we find his killer—my heart will allow the smiles and laughter without the accompanying guilt.”
“It’ll come,” he said, stepping back. “It may take a while, but it’ll come.”
“You speak from experience.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.” She’d vowed not to bring it up but felt compelled to do so.
He stared into his coffee as though he’d find the answer. Sophie stayed still, sensing if she moved, the moment would vanish.
“My mother was killed when I was eight years old,” he finally said. “I know I mentioned it. I’m sorry I haven’t explained sooner. The truth is I hate talking about it. Because with the telling and remembering, the grief and regret comes back.”
Justice Mission Page 11
