There was still no positive identification on the two other women. Nothing came up when they ran their prints, which just meant they weren’t in the system.
Luke stretched at his desk. He felt the stress of the day settle into the muscles of his back and neck. It was hard to take in everything that had happened so far. He felt like weeks had passed since George Brewer had shown up at the police station saying his wife was missing. The only thing he really knew without question was that George was the center of this whole investigation. Luke just didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle yet, but he knew it was just a matter of time. That’s just how it goes in most homicide investigations. Pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place and sometimes you have just enough to know what you’re missing.
The cases were overwhelming the city. Residents were terrified. The tip line they had set up was being flooded with false leads and hysterical female residents who called for every strange looking car in their neighborhood and bump in the night. Luke understood. Nothing like this had happened in Little Rock for as long as he could remember. People were panicked. It’s easier when the missing and dead don’t look like you. They could still pacify themselves with the idea that it will never happen to them. But when the women appear to be the girls next door, the moms at the soccer games, it brings it just a little closer to home.
One thing did keep catching Luke’s attention. Shannon was the first woman found, but she wasn’t the one found with the word whore painted onto her body. He wondered if the third woman was also a prostitute. She hadn’t been arrested as far as he could tell. Was there an angle there he was missing? If there was, then how did Maime and Laura connect? Clearly neither of them had been prostitutes. They were the kind of women most others envied, living in the best parts of town, running with the Junior League set. Maybe they didn’t connect to the other cases, but then that would be one heck of a coincidence.
The medical examiner’s office was swamped and lab tests were coming in far slower than they needed. In some ways, the investigation was really hinging on some major factors that Luke needed before they could do much else. Most importantly, they needed to know times and manner of death.
The media was breathing down their necks calling for interviews. So far Luke let Captain Meadows handle it. Luke was starting to believe there was a leak somewhere within the police department that he needed to close fast. Too much information was getting out. They hadn’t released that Shannon was a prostitute, but it came out on CNN less than an hour after her identity was released.
Steve Bisceglia was due in at any time to make the official missing person’s report on Laura. Luke continued to flip through the case files until his eyes started to close.
Luke decided to wrap up it for the night. He looked up to the ceiling and began to say a silent prayer for a break in the case. He didn’t get very far when his office phone began to ring. He picked it up and barely put it back on the receiver before he rushed out of his office.
When Luke made it to the main entrance of the police station, he was met with a white man in his early thirties who clearly had been crying.
Clutching Luke’s hand, he said, “My wife, she’s missing. I just went to the airport to pick her up from a business trip to Los Angeles, but she wasn’t on the flight. I called the airlines and found out she never boarded in LA. I called her coworkers. They said she never made the trip. They hadn’t been able to reach her all week. Now her cellphone is off. The last time I saw my wife was last Thursday morning when she left for the airport. Help me find her, please.”
CHAPTER 38
I HEARD THE CRACK OF THUNDER and opened my eyes in time to see the lightning strike. The storm outside seemed to be right on top of me, flashes of light brightened the room and then left me in darkness. I pulled the covers around me and tried to close my eyes to sleep. Storms never scared me, but the rain was coming down hard on my roof. Thunder crashed again.
Then faintly, I heard a strange scraping noise that seemed to be coming from downstairs. I heard it again, more distinctive now, like a chair was being dragged across the floor. I bolted upright and strained to hear. I was alone in the house, and although this was a safe neighborhood, my mother’s earlier conversation about my impending death quickened my pulse. Rain pounded on the roof loudly and the roar of thunder cracked again. I wondered if I could make it out and across to Joe and Emma’s. I’d be safe there but stuck in the rain on their porch until they woke up and let me in.
I slid out of bed and planted my bare feet on the cold hardwood. I slowly crept toward my dresser and pulled my Glock out of the top drawer. It had been tossed in among satin and lace panties. I had pulled it out of my locked cabinet earlier that night. I never used it other than practice on the range. I didn’t even like having it, but with the work I do, it was a necessity.
The gun felt like raw power in my hands. I still didn’t feel safe. I stood in the middle of my room gun in hand and debated if I should pull on more clothes before heading downstairs. My pink tank top, no bra and gray shorts hugging my butt were not exactly the best attire to confront a prowler. No time to change though. The noise got progressively louder and then was accompanied by a crash that sounded like the chair slammed to the floor. My hands shook and my knees felt weak as I crept down one stair at a time. I flipped off the safety on my gun as I went.
I got to the fourth step from the bottom and looked over the banister into my living room. Empty. I could see out the front window to the driveway, my rental still parked where I left it. I moved one foot in front of the other down the stairs, through the living room, and to the threshold of my kitchen. The lightning brightened the rooms as I moved.
“Who’s there? I’ve got a gun. I’ll shoot if I have to.” The words caught in my throat coming out barely above a whisper. My hands shook. I wasn’t sure I could actually shoot, but whoever it was didn’t know it was a hollow promise.
I could see part of my kitchen from where I stood; sink and cabinets with a straight shot to the back door that lead onto a patio and then into my backyard. There was no sign of anyone but a quick flash of lightning illuminated the door. The bolt lock was turned in the open position. I knew I had locked it before I went to bed. I swallowed hard. I had hoped that my imagination was running away with me, but my imagination didn’t unbolt that door.
I hesitated and debated for a few seconds whether to confront or run out the front door to my car. I didn’t have my keys though and didn’t know where I had left them. I wasn’t even sure where my cellphone was. Probably in my bedroom. I never did have a house phone. I would have to confront whoever was there.
As I rounded the entry way into the kitchen, I reached inside against the wall, flipping the light switch upright. I moved quickly with both my hands wrapped around my Glock and my right index finger on the trigger. I pointed the gun into the kitchen toward my dining table and chairs where the noise grew louder. My eyes adjusted to the light. When I saw who was sitting at my kitchen table head in his hands, I nearly dropped the gun.
CHAPTER 39
“LUKE, WHAT ARE YOU doing here? I almost shot you.” I lowered my Glock to my side. My pulse raced and confusion took over the intense fear I felt seconds earlier.
He looked up and slumped farther down in the chair. He kicked his long legs out in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot. The only time I saw his eyes look like that was when he had been drinking, which was rare. He was squinting. I assumed the bright kitchen light was bothering him. I flicked the light off and set my Glock on the counter.
I started to walk towards him, but he got up, stumbled, and took two or three long strides towards me. He closed the distance between us in mere seconds. Before I could speak, he pushed me against the wall, put his hands in my hair holding my head and kissed me hard. All I could breathe in was him; his tongue darted in my mouth, his lips sucked on mine. I lost myself.
He moved his body against mine suggestively and kissed me more passionately. A familiar fe
eling spread through my stomach and made my pulse race as much as it did moments earlier. My hands rested on his chest. I clutched at his wet white dress shirt. He was wet from the rain. I felt it against me, against my face and body.
Before I knew what was happening, he stopped kissing me and shoved me backwards. I stumbled, my head hitting the wall.
He moved back, pointing his finger in my face. “How could you get out of my bed, get dressed, walk out my front door and leave the state. Never calling me or returning my calls. You left me, with nothing. No word. I didn’t even know if you were okay, if you were safe. You have no idea what you did to me.”
I reached my hands towards him, but he shoved them away and stepped back out of my reach. Hot tears spilled down my face. “Luke, I was confused, scared. I never meant to hurt you. I thought it was better this way.”
“Better for you.” He moved back to the table, yanked out the chair and sat back down.
He was right. I left him without saying anything. Crawled out of his bed like a coward, a thief in the night. I packed my bags and went back to New York. He called and kept calling. I didn’t know what to say, so I thought saying nothing was best. I had felt myself falling in love with him, and it terrified me. I wiped my tears on the back of my hand and looked at him unsure of what he wanted to hear.
“What are you doing here now? You’re drunk. You hate me. You’ve made that obvious to anyone around us. Even Cooper is wondering what is wrong with you.”
“I had to see you again. I don’t know. You’re like a drug. I hate you for that,” he spat. “Go back to New York please, baby girl, you’re killing me.”
I moved towards him, pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. I half expected him to move away from me, but he didn’t. “I can’t. I’m in this now. I can’t just walk away. George needs me.”
“Screw George. I need you,” he shouted, jabbing himself in the chest with his index finger. “Did that ever matter to you? Did I ever matter to you?”
I reached out and held his hand. He didn’t push me away. “Of course, you mattered to me. You still matter to me,” I quietly admitted. “You know that.”
“But you left. Why? We’d been together for a year and then you just up and left. Just tell me why. Living not knowing has been killing me for two years now.”
“I don’t have an answer. I was scared.”
“Scared? You don’t think I was scared? I didn’t walk out on you and never speak to you again, now did I?”
I looked down and shook my head ashamed. “What can I say, you’re a better person.”
“Yes, I am, and I deserve better,” he said, staring at me. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
He let go of my hand, got up abruptly and walked towards the back door.
“Luke, where are you going?”
“Now you care?”
“I’ve always cared. I just didn’t know what to do. Please believe me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’ll never believe anything you tell me again.”
I deserved that but still it stung. “You can’t leave, you’re drunk. You can’t drive like that. How’d you get here?”
“Walked from Billy’s,” he called over his shoulder as he was about to turn the doorknob.
Billy’s was a cop bar a few streets over from me tucked into the neighborhood. I’ve never really known Luke to drink and certainly not in the middle of an intense investigation. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through.
I got up and walked towards him, rested a hand on his back and said, “It’s storming out and too far for you to walk home. You can’t drive. Stay here.”
He turned to look at me, shook my hand off him and asked, “Where would I sleep?”
“You can have the spare room if you want it.”
His cold smirk said all I needed to know.
I conceded and held my hands palms up to him in defeat. “You can sleep in my bed.”
He stood still as if deciding between his options.
“How did you get in here anyway?”
He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a familiar key, waving it. “You gave this to me once. You didn’t stick around to take it back.”
My spare house key. He reached his open palm out to me with the key in it. I thought for a minute. “Keep it,” I said and shook my head, eyes lowered. “You never know when you might need it.”
Luke put the key back in his pocket and reached for me. He pulled me into him and kissed me long and deep. We pulled apart. He looked down into my eyes and said somberly, “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven. I’m drunk. I can’t be responsible for my actions.”
CHAPTER 40
LUKE WOKE UP IN AN UNFAMILIAR BED. He immediately reached his hands to his head, which felt like his brain was being slammed into his skull. He squinted his eyes hoping that would make it easier to see. It didn’t. What he did last night was beyond stupid. He’d pay for it all day.
He stretched his arms across the bed and realized he wasn’t alone. Memories of the previous night flashed in his mind. He groaned audibly at the thought that he had actually broken into Riley’s house. Did he kiss her at some point? He couldn’t quite remember.
Riley was curled on her side, her bottom against him. He resisted the urge to turn on his side and cuddle against her. He felt the anger he carried with him like a shield over the last two years bubble up in his chest and then dissipate. He was so tired, hungover and just worn out from regret. He felt defeated.
Luke sat up and swung his feet to the floor. He realized then he was naked except for his black boxer briefs. Did he undress himself? He looked over at Riley snug under the covers. He pulled them back slightly to look at her; tank top and shorts. She was dressed at least. Hopefully, that meant nothing had happened, but he couldn’t remember. He was sure he had been too drunk to perform. He hoped he hadn’t tried anyway. His head started to pound again, and he dropped his head into his hands. It was then he noticed on the nightstand next to him the bottle of water and two small white aspirin. Luke took them and drank half the bottle in a few gulps.
He picked up his cellphone that was sitting on the nightstand, too. Luke scrolled through his phone and was grateful at least there were no missed calls and no messages. He had stopped briefly into Billy’s to unwind before attempting to sleep. A beer turned into more than he could remember. It was stupid.
He stood, stretched and looked around Riley’s room. It had been years since he had been in here. Even when they were together, they mostly stayed at his place. His bed was bigger, a king-size compared to her queen. Neither of them were typically cuddly sleepers. He stood and watched her sleep.
He missed her. And there she slept. He had to admit it was a struggle to resist the urge to climb back into bed, wrap his arms around her and never let her go. He hated that his pain and anger at her could dissipate so quickly. That right there was the kicker. It didn’t matter if he loved her or hated her, she consumed his thoughts. For some reason, he just couldn’t walk away even after all this time.
Luke looked around the room for his clothes. He didn’t see them and started to make his way across her room to her bedroom door when a silver object on her dresser caught his attention. Luke knew he’d seen this somewhere before. He picked up the silver bracelet and held it in his hand.
Where had he’d seen this before? Maybe it was something that Riley had worn when she was with him. The nagging feeling was still present. He couldn’t let it go. He held it up, turned it around and that’s when he noticed the design. Celtic trinity knots.
The hair on his body stood up and a wave of understanding took hold. This was the very bracelet they found on the second woman they pulled from the river. What was Riley doing with the same bracelet?
“Riley,” he yelled, forgetting all about his pounding head. “What is this? Where did you get it?”
Riley opened her eyes, blinked twice and closed them again. Luke closed the distance to her bed and sat on the edge.
He nudged her awake.
She sat upright, anger in her eyes. “Luke, what are you doing?”
He waved the bracelet in her face. He knew by her look, she’d been caught.
“I was going to tell you. I was just trying to figure out what it means,” Riley explained as she climbed out of bed and took the bracelet from his hands.
“There are some things I have to tell you. Can we get some coffee first and talk? George gave me this a long time ago. It’s the same as the one you pulled off the woman in the river.”
“What do you mean George gave you this bracelet? I know it’s the same as the one we pulled off the dead woman,” Luke barked. “Why do you think I’m so angry right now? How long have you known?
Riley shrugged, “Maybe they make a lot of these.”
“They make a lot of them? That’s your explanation? Nice try. At the very least, his wife and mistress are missing and now this connection to a dead woman. So, I’ll ask again, what are you doing with this?”
“This bracelet doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Riley said just as a loud knock at the front door caused them both to jump.
Luke stood arms out to his sides and asked her accusingly. “Who is that? Where are my clothes?”
“Probably Cooper, I forgot he was supposed to come over this morning,” Riley explained to him with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I washed your clothes last night and threw them in the dryer. They were wet and muddy. I thought you would appreciate having clean clothes this morning.”
Deadly Sins Page 13
