Andi walked right up to him like a woman on a mission. “When was the last time you saw your wife, Doctor Owens?”
Luke leaned against his car, studying the veterinarian’s expression for signs of deceit.
The man had spent the night with his wife and hadn’t bothered to tell the detective he supposedly hired to find her. Why?
Doctor Owens shut and locked his mailbox door, taking his time, as if deciding whether he should admit the truth. “Late last night,” he conceded.
Oh, no. She is not going to be happy.
Luke remained close to his car, waiting for the explosion.
Andi stiffened her stance, anger set in her jaw. “Is there a reason you didn’t call and let me know you found your wife? I could have followed her. Found out if she was working alone or with a partner. Instead, I wasted hours—hours I will bill you for—searching for her when you’d already met up with her.”
Doctor Owens calmly removed the Wednesday ads from his stack of envelopes and placed them on top of the massive metal box where the entire community received their mail.
“She threatened to kill me if I told anyone that I met up with her. All she wanted was money and a place to spend the night. She swore I would never see her again if I didn’t give them to her.”
“So you spent the night with her at a motel?” Andi crossed her arms over her chest.
“Certainly not,” he spat. “I paid for the room and dropped her off.” He stepped off the curb and turned back to her. “How did you find out about the motel?”
“I work for a detective agency.” She slid the abandoned stack of ads off the top of the mailboxes and into her waiting hands.
“Tess needed a place to stay. I told her not to come home because the police are investigating the murders. I thought for sure she’d say it didn’t matter, that she was innocent, but she didn’t.”
“You have to tell the police,” she demanded.
“I can’t. She will kill me if I turn her in.”
“Helping her makes you guilty of aiding and abetting.” She shot an unsure glance toward Luke, as if asking if her comment was true.
He wanted to shrug, but couldn’t without Doctor Owens noticing, so he merely lifted a brow in answer. Luke had no idea what the justice system would call the actions of the vet, other than highly suspicious.
“I was afraid for my life.” Doctor Owens stiffened his spine. “Bernice is dead and two other people almost joined her in the cemetery. That has to count for something. It’s not like I wanted to help her. She made me. Besides, I don’t think I can legally be compelled to testify against my wife.”
Andi paused for a moment, and Luke wondered if that was the end of her questioning. If it were up to him, he would press the man for more. He had to know something that would help the police find Tess.
Andi’s gaze locked on the doctor like a hunter about to strike its prey. The vet’s dominating demeanor did little to intimidate her. “What did you do to help, other than arrange for the room?”
“I sold her engagement ring. I found it in my car, next to the garage remote.” He pulled a business card out of the pocket of his tailored slacks. “This is the name of the man who bought her ring.”
Andi took the card he offered. After she perused the print, Luke held out his hand for the card. She took several steps in his direction to hand it to him.
Doctor Owens raised a brow in his direction. He obviously wondered what Luke had to do with the investigation.
“I’m giving the lady a ride,” Luke admitted.
“Thanks to Harry,” Andi snapped.
The vet nodded as if the mention of Harry’s name explained everything strange that went on in Euphoria.
Luke peered down at the business card. It belonged to a dentist named Sid, in Peoria. The card promised a pain-free smile. He had the feeling he already knew the sleazy answer to the next question he couldn’t help asking. “What is a dentist going to do with a used engagement ring?”
“His new fiancée doesn’t know it’s used.” The veterinarian’s brow furrowed. “Don’t look at me like that,” he demanded. “The guy paid ten thousand for a ring worth twice that much.”
Luke wondered if the man’s fiancée would consider it a great deal, especially if the previous owner turned out to be a murderer.
“Did you give Tess the whole ten thousand?” Andi asked. “Or did you use part of it to pay off your bookie?”
Doctor Owens ran his hand through his hair. The vein near his temple throbbed. “How do you know about the bookie? Did Roxie squeal?”
“Nope. Not a word.” She angled a smug look in the vet’s direction. “I told you—I work for a detective agency. I’m good at my job.”
“Too good.” His gaze locked with hers. “Be careful, Miss Stevenson. Tess is dangerous.”
“Where is she now?” Luke asked, wondering how close he should stick to Andi. He couldn’t lose her before they even had a chance to start over.
“Tess said she was leaving town. I didn’t ask any questions.” He played with the mail in his hand. “I was thinking. If you find Tess and I get my money back, your agency can keep it. I heard Reverend Nichols was offering a reward to clear his name. My life is worth more than ten thousand and your fee. Besides, I won’t feel safe until she is behind bars.”
That’s a lot of money for just snooping around and asking questions. No wonder Andi joined the agency.
In his line of work, Luke never saw a bonus anywhere near ten thousand.
“Don’t worry, Doctor Owens,” she said. “It doesn’t matter where your wife went, we have resources. We’ll find her and turn over her location to the police. It’s just a matter of time now.”
“You and your boss have proven you can handle the job,” Doctor Owens admitted. “But you had better let Lenny take the reins from here. The woman I spoke to is no longer the woman I once loved. She’s lost her sanity.” Anguish revealed itself in his gloomy expression. “Her eyes are vacant. She has no conscience.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, her jaw set with determination.
Doctor Owens shook his head. “You should be.”
* * *
Sunday evening, Andi sat across from Luke in a dimly lit Italian restaurant. Candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows over the red-and-white checked tablecloth.
Seated in a corner booth near the front windows, she observed the small gathering of customers across the room and the occasional couple walking past on the sidewalk outside. Those old feelings for Luke stirred deep inside. During their time together, back in college, she had considered herself lucky to have him in her life. Every day after class, she would freshen up in her dorm room and anxiously await his arrival. She didn’t care if they ate out, watched television, or studied together.
“There’s that smile I remember.”
His voice yanked her out of her thoughts.
“Smile?” She felt a blush sweep over her. “Was I smiling?” Unwilling to discuss why she was smiling, she chose to change the subject. “I’m glad you accepted my dinner invitation. I wasn’t in the mood to cook, and I did promise you a meal for driving me around today.”
“I agreed to come—I haven’t agreed to let you pay,” he said dryly.
“But you drove.”
He covered her hand, resting on the table, with his. “It was fun watching you play detective. Besides, I remember your cooking. Eating out is safer.”
She chuckled. “Since you have chosen to insult my cooking again, I will let you pay for dinner.”
“That was my plan all along.” He removed his hand from hers to reach for his glass. “Here’s to our paths crossing again.”
Paths crossing?
She joined in the toast, trying not to overanalyze the statement.
Sauvignon blanc swirled in his glass as he lifted it to his lips for a generous sip. He swallowed and set it down. The mood suddenly shifted, becoming more serious.
“I was shocked when I r
ealized you had moved to Euphoria,” he admitted. “What are the odds of you moving into a community I manage?”
Considering her luck lately, the odds seemed good that she’d see him again under the worst possible circumstances. If she were lucky, she’d be living in a community where the homeowners’ association was run by group of do-gooders who helped their neighbors.
“I was shocked to discover you were the property manager. I never expected you to walk through my door again.”
When he scooted his chair closer to the table, she caught a whiff of his earthy cologne. It reminded her of the countless times he had held her in his arms. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.
“You’ll love the lasagna here,” he promised. “It’s almost as good as my grandmother’s.”
“I could have made you lasagna.”
He grinned and wisely chose not to say a word.
“My cooking’s not that bad,” Andi protested, trying to forget the burned hamburger she once served him.
They both burst out laughing.
“Okay, it’s that bad,” she conceded. “But my baking is better than ever. I’ll make you a plate of assorted cookies to prove it.”
Her mind wandered to the first time the realtor had showed her the condo. Her thoughts had filled with daydreams of baking cookies on lazy weekends during the fall, decorating with twinkling white lights for the winter holidays, sitting on the porch with a warm cup of coffee on crisp spring mornings, and reading mystery novels near an open window during summer rain showers. It would have been truly euphoric—if it hadn’t been for Harry.
Luke leaned back, making room for the waitress, who wore a bright-red polo shirt and white slacks. The employees all matched the tablecloths.
Andi imagined how life could have been different. Say if Luke didn’t manage Euphoria, and if they had run into each other at a grocery store instead of the day he showed up on her doorstep with a violation letter.
Reaching for her fork, Andi was grateful for the chance to eat and not talk. She shoved a bite of cheese-and-sauce-covered pasta into her mouth. She needed a moment of quiet to strategize, to come up with a plan to convince Luke he should forgive her once she told him Jessie owned Lenny’s Detective Agency.
Her mind began to wander as she chewed. He had done a lot to help her out lately. She should tell him the truth. Tonight. Before it was too late to salvage their new, growing relationship. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t her secret to tell. Her heart thudded in her chest. Keeping secrets was the exact reason he had left her before.
Can I convince him that it isn’t horrible to be keeping this secret?
“I would hate to be the president of the United States, wouldn’t you?” Andi resisted the urge to slap herself on the forehead. She knew better than to speak without a clear-cut plan.
He cut his lasagna with the side of his fork. “Where did that come from?”
“Oh . . . the red-and-white tablecloth and . . . my blue dress.” She glanced down at the sundress she’d chosen because it slimmed down her hips.
“I forgot how funny you are sometimes.” He smiled, lifting a forkful of lasagna to his lips.
“You didn’t answer my question. Don’t you think it would be difficult to be president? You know, deciding who gets assistance and who doesn’t, which turkey gets pardoned on Thanksgiving and which ones get the . . . you know.” She imitated slitting her throat.
He lifted a shoulder. “I guess.”
“Sometimes there are no good choices. You simply do what you believe to be right under the circumstances.”
“Okay . . .” His brow furrowed with obvious confusion.
“I’m glad you see my point, because speaking of not having a good choice, I have something to tell―”
He pulled off a tiny piece of breadstick and fed it to her. “Haven’t you heard you aren’t supposed to talk about politics or religion when you are trying to have a relaxing evening?” He eyed her over the rim of his wine glass. “I was impressed with the way you handled yourself with Doctor Owens. You could be a real detective if you wanted.”
She thought about the way her knees buckled every time she passed by the dumpster. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to teaching. I’m helping out only because Lenny is in Hawaii.”
“Oh?” He played with his fork. “I didn’t know you and Lenny were friends.”
She needed to tell him the truth; she just didn’t know how. “Lenny recently sold the agency. I’m helping out the new owner.”
Luke paused as the wheels turned. “You know the new owner?”
“Yes . . .” she admitted, agonizing over what to say next.
“Your sister is a police officer, she’s busy working undercover, and you suddenly have to help a detective who owns an agency?” Obviously still putting the pieces together, he narrowed his eyes and then took a swig of his wine. He swallowed and stared at the half-filled glass. “In all the time I knew you, I never saw you go way out on a limb for anyone other than a relative.” He set the glass down and then met her gaze. “Jessie isn’t a cop anymore. She works for a detective agency, doesn’t she?”
There was no point in denying the truth. It would only make matters worse later. “She bought Lenny’s Detective Agency, but she can’t resign from the police department until she finishes her undercover assignment. You can’t tell anyone, Luke.”
“It’s not your secret to tell.” He rubbed his brow. “How many times have I heard that?”
“This is a matter of life and death. Harry once frequented the diner where she’s working undercover. He might go back there and tell everyone she’s a detective. We’re talking about drug dealers here. If her cover is blown, they could kill her.”
“Some secrets need to be kept.” He frowned, understanding registering in his eyes. “This is why you were asking those presidential questions that made no sense.” He tapped his finger on the rim of his glass. “Okay, I will keep your secret. I also won’t hold that secret against you.”
Andi’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.” Comparing her other sisters’ secrets in the past to Jessie’s made them pale in comparison. “I should have trusted you back in college. We had plans to marry. That should have meant treating you like family. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” He shoveled the lasagna into his mouth in silence.
She watched his strong jaw move as he chewed. An emotional wall had been erected between them. She didn’t need to see it; she could feel its presence. Up until that moment, she hadn’t been positive she wanted Luke back in her life. Now that she might have lost him, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
TWELVE
Luke took several hesitant steps forward. Charred wood and blackened steel lay in a heap on the abandoned lot while families resided in homes on either side. The house before him had completely burned to the ground. Only a birdbath, placed in the center of the gravel yard, had escaped the flames.
Andi stepped onto an abandoned brick and he protectively placed a hand on her arm to keep her steady. When she called him earlier that morning, asking for another ride, his first instinct was to claim he was too busy. Scanning the grounds, he was glad he had given in. His curiosity was getting the better of him.
He glanced down at the numbers Andi had hastily scrawled on the back of an old envelope and confirmed the address. This was indeed the last known residence of Doctor Owens and his missing wife, Tess.
“Can I help you?” A young woman in the neighboring yard lifted a tricycle by the handle. The smudge of food on her pale-pink tank top and faded jeans said she might not mind an adult conversation.
Luke forced himself not to answer; this wasn’t his case. He hadn’t realized how often he took control of situations until he started driving Andi around.
“I was looking for the woman who used to live here,” Andi explained.
“Tess?”
Andi gave her best I’m-a-nice-person smile and walked toward the young mother.
&nb
sp; “What do you want with her?”
“Her husband hired me—us—to find her.”
“Sorry, can’t help you.” She turned abruptly, swinging the tricycle wide with the sudden move.
Andi stepped closer. “Please. She could be in danger.”
If she isn’t the killer, Luke mused.
“Danger?” It came out more a whisper than a question. The woman eyed the both of them with a healthy dose of skepticism.
“Tess is missing and . . . there was a murder in her neighborhood.”
The woman gasped. “Who are you? You don’t look like cops.”
Andi pulled one of Lenny’s cards from her pocket. “Andi Stevenson. I work for the detective agency searching for Tess.” She glanced back at Luke. “This is my associate.”
“I’m Stacey. Tess is my friend. At least, I was her friend before they moved.” She gestured toward the house. “The kids are inside. Come on in. I have a pot of coffee brewing if you want some.”
Andi paused as if unsure.
Coffee meant conversation. That meant they were making progress. “Thanks,” Luke said, gesturing for Andi to follow the woman. This young mother was no threat.
Entering the ranch-style home, Luke noted the dusty oak furniture and wall-to-wall toys—enough to fill a store. A toddler with wispy blonde hair dragged a stuffed bunny by the ear. Then, twirling the rabbit in circles, she smacked the chair of a young school-aged girl holding a porcelain teapot. Water sloshed over the side, landing on the miniature cup and saucer neatly arranged on the table below.
“Mom, make her stop!” The older girl, with the height and rounded face of a first-grader, stomped her foot. “I’m having tea with the queen of the mermaids and we need peace and quiet.”
Luke suspected the child’s mother begged for “peace and quiet” often.
Stacey grabbed the stuffed rabbit and tossed it onto the sofa. “Play nice or I’ll put you both in the naughty chair.”
Euphoria Lane Page 17
