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Page 8
“They’re good carrots,” he said appreciatively, then popped one in his mouth and winked at her.
Her heart did a backflip.
Dropping her gaze, Terri focused on eating, or at least tried to. Being around Luke was messing with her equilibrium. In just a few short hours, she was already losing sight of why she was here. Her husband was hunting her down, and despite how safe she might feel under Luke’s watchful eyes, there was nowhere that she could run that Randy wouldn’t follow. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with her, and there was no doubt in her mind that he was going to make her pay.
Chapter Nine
Detective Howard Young stood at the foot of the hospital bed watching the steady rise and fall of the young college student’s chest as the machines attached to him worked to keep him alive. Brent Lefebvre, barely twenty-one, had been mowed down in a parking lot crawling with patrons by what was probably a drunken driver, and no one had witnessed a thing. He didn’t buy it for a second.
He’d already questioned friends around campus, focusing on those who had been at the club that night. They all said the same thing: Everyone was drinking and having a good time. On a dare, Brent attempted to pick up one of the waitresses and was shot down. After that, he pretty much packed up and left. Every one of them had stayed inside, so they were a dead end and a half as far as he was concerned. Covering every angle, he had questioned family members too. They described Brent as a bright kid with a scholarship and no enemies, and they couldn’t give him any more answers than his friends. None of it added up. So Howard decided another stop-in at the hospital to see if there had been any changes couldn’t hurt.
A recent pile up on the I-280 bridge had swamped the ER, and wouldn’t luck have it, the doctor he needed to speak with, the one who usually worked ICU, was tending to the vics. Pulling up a chair, the detective readied himself for a long wait.
He didn’t have to wait long.
A brunet, somewhere in her late forties, with pale skin and tired, swollen eyes strode into the room. Her steps faltered when she caught sight of him, but she quickly recovered. Striding to the chair opposite the bed, she placed a large purse on the floor then turned her attention to the boy.
This was Brent’s mother, Teresa Lefebvre. They’d met once before, the night of the accident. She had been vibrant then, but the trauma had taken its toll, putting bags under eyes and creases in her skin. In that short of time, she had aged ten years.
“The doctor says he’s in a coma,” she said solemnly, combing manicured nails through Brent’s matted, unwashed hair. Misty eyes lifted to meet his. “Do you have any leads, Detective?”
He shook his head, wishing he had better news. The truth was, the department had its suspicions, but even if they could share them, they were unfounded. Innocent until proven guilty and all that.
“What has the doctor said?” he asked, turning the topic away from the investigation. “Is Brent going to come out of this?”
Teresa looked down at her son and made a production of straightening his hospital gown and smoothing his blankets around him. “Doctor Pinsky says all the tests show that brain activity is fine despite the head injury. There’s some brain swelling, but they’re monitoring it. Other than that, broken bones that should heal over time.”
Howard could sense that there was something she wasn’t saying, and he felt compelled to call her on it. “What else did he say?”
Teresa straightened and looked heavenward, releasing a long-suffering breath. “That no matter how good it looks on paper, there is no guarantee that Brent will ever make a full recovery. If the brain swelling increases, his chances go down. It’s up to him now.”
He didn’t like that, not at all. The investigation had hit a wall. What they needed was a break in the case, and like it or not, Brent was that break. He might have been the only one to see what the driver looked like or, at the very least, be able to give them an idea of where to look.
“And you said he didn’t have any enemies? No one that might want to see him get hurt?” he asked Teresa again, because sometimes even the slightest variation in a story could move mountains.
“I already told you, Brent made friends, not enemies. Everyone loved him.” Reaching out, she tenderly smoothed Brent’s hair back from his face.
Howard stood and crossed to the door. “I’m sure that’s true, Ms. Lefebvre, but where are all those friends now?” As he stepped into the hall, he could feel her icy glare searing into his back. Turning to the nurses’ station, he was preparing to ask them how much longer the wait would be when a smooth, calm voice that only a doctor could have, approached him from behind.
“Detective Young?” Howard turned and found himself face-to-face with a younger version of George Clooney. He’d just bet that the nurses fell all over themselves when he entered a room, and, yep, there went one now.
“Dr. Pinsky,” the petite blonde asked with a flirty smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but they need you in SICU, and you have a call on line six.”
“Thank you, Geena.” Dr. Pinsky turned back to Howard with a friendly smile. “Where was I? Oh yes,” he said with a snap of his fingers. “You’re here for an update on the hit and run?”
“I am,” Howard confirmed. “I am updating the files so I need anything you can give me.”
Dr. Pinsky stepped up to the nurses’ station and leaned over the counter, earning a shy smile from a blushing receptionist, and withdrew a cream folder. “The patient has suffered a traumatic closed head injury and some other non-life-threatening injuries. The fact that he hasn’t woken up yet is a little troublesome, but coma is not unusual with an injury like this. We’ve performed some tests and haven’t been able to locate any fractures or signs of a bleed, but we are monitoring him closely.” Closing the file, Pinsky slapped it on the counter.
Howard blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s about all that can be done at the moment,” Pinsky said, burying his hands in his jacket pockets. “Well, Detective, everyone’s body handles trauma differently. Some are up and walking the next day, others slip into a coma. There’s no telling how one will react. As I told Ms. Lefebvre, it’s up to Brent now. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get going,” he said, already turning away. “If you have any more questions, leave them with one of the nurses and I’ll be sure to get in contact with you.”
Howard narrowed his eyes at the back of his head as he walked away. He didn’t know what he expected to hear when he came here, but he was hoping for more than a ‘we’ll have to wait and see what happens’ approach.
Frustrated, Howard marched to the elevators and punched the button. He needed answers. The person responsible for all of this was still out there, and it was only a matter of time before he hurt or killed someone else. It was time for him return to the scene of the crime, talk some more to the owner, Luke Reed, again, and see if he could jog his memory.
Everyone in the station knew who the guy was, and it was common knowledge that the kind of business he ran wasn’t the family-oriented type. The guy had his hands in some seriously shady dealings, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t get a solid break on him. At every turn, he covered his tracks well.
But Luke wasn’t at the top of his hit list right now, so he could care less what he did behind closed doors. What he needed was answers, and he had a feeling that Luke Reed knew more than he was telling, and with nothing else to go on, he had no choice but to explore every nook and cranny, because he sure as hell wasn’t getting anywhere waiting around here.
***
Randy finished the last of his black coffee and tossed the Styrofoam cup on the floorboard. He glared at his new home away from home, what was now an empty vessel. Where was Terri? He knew for a fact that she hadn’t been home in two days, because he had been waiting and watching.
He was sure she was working, though he hadn’t been able to confirm it yet. When he stopped by the Sunset last night, the sleek black Mercedes was parked in
its usual space at the back of the building, but that hadn’t been all. A figure slipped through the long line, flashed his wallet and went in without issue. Worse, he recognized the face.
The man was a detective that worked the crime division and was someone Randy was well acquainted with. Seemed the detective had a real aversion to men who knew how to control their women properly, which made them enemies of sorts. No doubt, the punk he’d been forced to cut down recently had brought him here, which meant that Randy needed to make himself scarce for a while.
On his way out of the parking lot, Randy did a quick visual scan, but Terri’s car was nowhere to be found, which could only mean one of two things. Either she wasn’t showing up to work, or she was getting a ride from someone else. And he could just bet who that someone might be.
Stepping down from the cab, Randy crossed the darkened street and marched up the drive to the lonely ranch like he belonged there. And very soon, he would. He didn’t bother with the back door this time, instead preferring to go through the front. Closing himself around the door to block any potential nosey neighbors from seeing what he was up to, Randy jimmied the simple lock with the point of his new pocket knife, a smile creeping across his face when the door opened easily.
Every room in the house was plunged into darkness, confirming his suspicions that Terri hadn’t been home in a while. A small pang of disappointment washed over him. He didn’t know what he expected to find exactly. Part of him was hoping to find her, maybe do a little ‘honey, I’m home’ action, that way they could get started on reconciling their relationship, but it was obvious that would have to wait.
He did a quick sweep of the house, finding absolutely nothing, which did nothing to spark his temper compared to the feeling he got when he opened the door to the attached garage and found her car sitting there, cold and unused. This left him under no illusions as to where she was and who she was with.
Rage colored his vision red as he stormed into the garage and picked up a shovel standing in the corner against the wall. Lifting it over his head, he brought the business end down on the hood, creating a large dent right in the middle. He worked his way around the car, taking his anger out on the side panels, windows, and taillights, until the car looked like it had been in a demolition derby.
He wasn’t done.
Chest heaving, Randy selected a can of black spray paint from a nearby shelf and studied the wreck for the best place to start. When he found it, he shook the can vigorously, popped the cap off and got to work. Terri may think she had gotten one over on him, but she would soon find out that Randy Cunningham was not one to be fooled around with. This time, he was going to send a message that Terri couldn’t ignore.
Chapter Ten
Terri finished peeling her uniform over her body, giving an extra wiggle to get it in all the right places so nothing that shouldn’t be was hanging out. One day, she would find a job that didn’t have a minimum flesh requirement, but until then, she was stuck with this one. At least Luke was a good boss, and more recently, a good friend. It could always be worse, she told herself, stepping into the mile-high heels. Normally, she would dress in casual attire and change in the locker room at work, but today, with what she had planned, she wouldn’t have the time.
One last glimpse in the mirror to be sure her hair was in place and her make-up was right and she was out the door, prepared for her first night of being chaperoned to work. She found Luke in the living room, his big body spread out over the sofa, booted feet kicked up on the table, and his phone in his hand. He was so wrapped up in whatever he was doing that he didn’t even notice that she’d entered the room until she cleared her throat.
“Ready when you are,” she said, gathering her purse and looping it over her shoulder.
Luke looked up, his eyes flashing briefly. “Yeah. Right. Don’t you usually change at work?” She answered with a small shrug. Pushing to his feet, Luke scooped up his keys from the tabletop and held out a hand for her to lead the way.
The ride into the city was disturbingly quiet, and Terri struggled with the words she had carefully rehearsed. She wasn’t exactly crazy about this little arrangement they had, but she was willing to make it work, for a time, but only if she could convince Luke to make a few concessions.
“Luke?”
“Hmm?” He glanced at her, then returned his focus to the road.
Terri fidgeted, scratching her long nails lightly over the skin on her thigh. It was ludicrous that she should be nervous about approaching him about something she wanted and was entitled to. But she hadn’t known anything else in so many years; it had become an instinctive reaction.
Forcing herself to grow a pair, she sat up a little straighter in her seat. “Before we get to the club, I want you to take me by my house so I can pick up a few things.”
Luke’s expression tightened, and she thought he might be gearing up to tell her no, but he surprised her by saying, “Okay, but I check it out before you go inside, and if everything is good, then you go in and get what you need, fast. I don’t think it’s a good idea to hang out for long. He could be watching.”
She was so surprised by his response that she eagerly agreed to his conditions. In her head, she began making a list of all the things she wanted to take, but mainly, she had her focus set on one thing, and Luke might not be too happy when she told him what it was.
***
“Stay here until I tell you it’s okay,” Luke said, cutting the engine. “And lock the doors behind me.”
Terri was a nervous wreck now that she was sitting in front of what used to be her home. Now it felt tainted. Dangerous. As if at any moment Randy would come bursting through the doors with that half-crazed look in his eye that she knew so well. Her hands trembled and she clamped them between her knees to still them.
Waiting took forever, and Terri was nearly crawling out of her skin by the time Luke waved her on. Taking a steadying breath, Terri emerged from the safety of the car and made her way to the front door where Luke stood, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.
Trying to pretend this was just another normal day, Terri collected her mail from the box and sorted through it as she stepped inside. Nothing seemed amiss, everything in the room sitting just as she left it, right down to the glasses she and Luke had been drinking from that night.
Gathering them, she walked the empty glasses to the sink, all the while feeling like there were eyes trained on her. Of course, there were—Luke’s. He was standing in the doorway, watching her every move as if he was afraid to let her out of his sight.
Get in and get out. Right. They were on a time limit.
Taking a canvas tote from a peg in the coat closet, Terri set about stuffing it with the items she had come here for. When she finished with that task, she knew she had to confront the real reason she had wanted to come here.
“All set?” Luke asked, looking at her expectantly.
“I just need one more thing,” she said hesitantly.
“Fine, get it and let’s go,” Luke said, wiggling his fingers in the universal hurry-it-up-would-ya gesture.
She didn’t appreciate his impatience, but she could appreciate where the emotion stemmed from, because she was feeling the pressing need to leave too. “It’s not something I can put in my bag,” she hedged, leading him to the door that opened to the garage.
“Terri,” Luke said on growl, and she could feel the tension rolling off of him.
She chose to ignore it. My life, she reminded herself. It’s my life.
“Luke,” she said calmly as she palmed the doorknob, “if I am going to stay with you, I at least need my own car. I don’t want to become a burden.”
“You’re not a burden, Terri,” Luke insisted.
“Fine,” she replied sharply. “I don’t want to be dependent on a man again, okay. Not for anything, especially when it comes to my freedom.”
Luke’s head snapped back like he had been slapped. “I would never try to trap you,
Terri, but when it comes to your safety…”
Terri nodded sagely. “Yes, I know I need you, Luke. I don’t deny that. But I also need to be self-sufficient. My life may be in danger, but I’m not stupid. I can watch my own back and I know how to be careful. Besides, we work together and live together now, so this is all probably a moot point anyway.”
Luke didn’t seem too happy either way, but she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t going to argue. If she wanted her car, then she would have her car, and she didn’t know why she had ever doubted him.
Twisting the knob, Terri let herself inside the garage. The sight before her had her stumbling backward, her cry muffled by her hand over her own mouth.
“What is it?” Luke demanded, rushing forward to brace her against his chest. Then he saw it.
“Damn it!”
The garage was a total mess, shelves turned on their sides, buckets of paint spilled onto the concrete. The worst made her want to scream, the pain of having her home and everything she had worked so hard for, destroyed.
“We need to go, Terri.” Luke’s voice was a distant command. But Terri wasn’t hearing anything he said. Her car had been demolished, its windows shattered, its doors smashed in, the lights non-existent. And as if that hadn’t been enough, black spray paint covered nearly every exposed inch of metal. Bitch. Whore. A few choice names she knew she would never get out of her head. But there was one that had her shaking so violently her knees threatened to give out.
Soon.
That one word said it all. She had run out of time. Randy was going to kill her. Crumpling to the cold, hard ground, Terri was glad Luke had her, because she was falling apart.
“I wish he had killed me,” she cried into his chest, dampening his shirt with a torrent of unstoppable tears.
“Shh,” Luke said, petting her hair as he held her closer still. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” she sobbed. “I always knew he was going to kill me someday, and he almost did. If they’d just let me die then, none of this would be happening now.”