Her Only Salvation Read online

  Leaning back, Luke grabbed her chin and wrenched her face up to meet his eyes. “If there is one thing I have learned in my life,” he said fiercely, “it’s that everything happens for a reason. Someone wanted you to live that day, Terri. You were given a second chance. Don’t throw it away. Fight. Randy isn’t invincible. He’s a man who has lost his mind. Stand up to him and fight. Take back your life.” “What life?” she huffed, trying to pull out of his grip, but his hold was firm.

  “Any life you want,” he rasped, then lowered his head to seal his mouth over hers.

  ***

  Terri touched her fingers to her lips, still feeling the pleasurable sensation of Luke’s kiss. She had been so floored by what he had done that she had broken the kiss and scrambled to her feet. Luke didn’t apologize, and neither did she. That one shared kiss had sparked something between them and she now wondered if it had always been there and not just a one-sided attraction on her part.

  Cold beer splashed her hand and Terri jumped back, flipping the taps off to prevent any more spillage. “Damn,” she muttered, cursing her drifting thoughts. It was still early, and the club wouldn’t be in full swing for another couple hours, but Terri had been distracted since she stepped foot through the door. She needed to get her act together because tonight was going to be a long night.

  Luke had asked that all the wait staff be on hand to cover tables and help get things set up for the coming St. Patrick’s Day celebration they had been planning. And it should be good, because Luke wasn’t sparing any expense. Balloons and party favors had been ordered already, but they still had to track down a caterer and someone to DJ the event, since Luke normally used a professional track list played through the many speakers set into the walls and hanging from the ceiling rather than a live person.

  They probably wouldn’t get out of there until the very early morning hours, if they were lucky. Terri was already feeling the pinch of her shoes, which threatened to make her more irritable than she already was. Having your husband break into your house and trash your car had a way of doing that to a person.

  They had called the police before coming in, for all the good that did. The officer took a report, all but dismissed their suggestion that it was Randy who did it, merely saying that it would be looked into. In the end, both she and Luke had walked out of there steaming, defeated, and mentally exhausted. It seemed Randy’s uncanny ability to skirt the law was still intact.

  Deciding not to dwell on something she couldn’t change, Terri chose to focus on the job in front of her. She was just finishing cleaning up the mess she made when Luke strolled behind the bar. “The first rule in bartending: No spilling the beer,” he said as he reached around her to grab an empty glass.

  “It was an accident,” she replied crisply before she could check her growing temper.

  “It was a joke,” he said, clearly offended by her waspish tone. When he finished filling the tall glass, he set it on the counter and pulled her aside. “Is something wrong?”

  Terri sighed, knowing she was being unreasonably acerbic. “It’s not you,” she explained. “I’m just feeling a little irritable after everything…”

  Luke’s features softened, and he stepped closer, as if to embrace her, but then Marianne and Sara were there and he pulled away, breaking the connection. He didn’t say anything, just walked away, leaving Terri feeling bereft. Picking up her tray, she forced a smile on her face and hit the floor. Tips didn’t magically appear, after all, and she needed all she could get.

  About halfway into her shift, as she looked up from the blender she was using to mix a frozen margarita, to find a stern looking man staring expectantly back at her. Cutting the motor, she smiled brightly. “What can I get for you?”

  Instead of ordering a drink, he flashed a badge. “I’m Detective Young with the CPD. I need to speak with a…” he pulled out a pad of paper from his breast pocket and leafed through it. “Luke Reed,” he said, tucking it away again.

  Instant and irrational fear ripped through her, but Terri schooled her reaction and motioned for him to follow. Luke’s office door was closed as usual, and she knocked lightly. A moment later he opened it, and the friendly smile he was wearing when he found her standing there slipped when he looked past her to find the detective.

  Luke recovered quickly, smiling a broad smile and reaching past her to offer his hand. “Sir. What can I do for you this evening?”

  The detective accepted the gesture and returned it with much less enthusiasm. “Mr. Reed. As I told your waitress, my name is Detective Young from the CPD. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Luke’s eyes flicked to Terri, whose own eyes were filled with worry. “Certainly. We can use my office,” he said, pushing the door open wider. He passed Terri a slim smile and as he closed the door and as she prepared to walk away, she overheard the detective say, “Tell me everything you know about the hit and run.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced and resting on his stomach. He regarded the detective with the same cool, unreadable expression he was faced with. The man was middle-aged with hints of gray dusting his temples, but his build was solid and his eyes flashed with intelligence. Nothing about him was infirm, just calculating, observant. Luke would bet that not much slipped by this man.

  The detective wanted him to relay the details of that evening, and he did. “There’s not much to tell,” Luke began. “I was inside, pushing papers, when my guy radioed me telling me get my ass up front, that something had happened. I saw the kid lying on the ground unconscious, called the police, though from what I understand, they had already been called, and ran train on the customers who’d decided that it was the perfect time to skip out on their tab.” He sighed deeply, the scene playing out in his head like it had just happened. “After that, the ambulance showed up, the police took a report and business was business again.”

  He said all this while Detective Young just listened and nodded. “I’m not a cop or anything, but shouldn’t you be taking notes or something?” Luke asked, a hint of sarcasm adding an extra bite to his words.

  The detective shrugged a broad shoulder. “This is all in the paperwork already.”

  Luke arched an eyebrow. “Then why bother asking?”

  “Because, Mr. Reed,” Detective Young said, sitting forward in his seat and pegging Luke with intense eyes. “I think there is more to this than you’re telling, and I want to know what that something is.”

  Luke looked him square in the eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “I know what kind of man you are, Mr. Reed,” Detective young claimed, easing back in his chair and mimicking Luke’s relaxed pose. “And I can well imagine that you and the law don’t work well together.”

  “The law and I don’t work together at all,” Luke smirked.

  “Oh, I know,” the detective said with a cunning smile. “You see, I’ve been spending some time looking into you and…” his eyes lifted and did a quick scan of the room, “your club. It seems it’s a very popular place.”

  Luke’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I wasn’t aware that being successful was a crime, detective.”

  “Oh, it’s not,” Young assured him. “But trafficking illegal drugs and operating a prostitution ring is.”

  For one long, drawn out moment, both men stared at each other, both refusing to break eye contact. Then, a light laugh ruptured the silence. “Wow, tell me, detective, does your captain know how badly your mind is slipping?” Tired of listening to his accusations, Luke stood, preparing to see the man out. “This meeting is over.”

  Detective Young stood, but made no move to leave. “My mind is as solid as a stone, Mr. Reed, and you and I both know that this business you are operating is nothing short of a sleazy and corrupt hole in the ground with a quickly approaching expiration date.”

  A wild tick had started in Luke’s jaw, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. Instead,
he opened the door and waited for the man to leave.

  Detective Young fastened the button on his jacket. As he stepped past Luke and into the hall, he stopped, his gaze focused down the corridor to the flashing colored lights and pulsing music. “Contrary to what you are probably thinking right now, Mr. Reed, I actually think you might be a decent guy. And I don’t have to tell you that I’m not the only one who is wise to what happens here.” Detective Young set his hard eyes on Luke. “A little advice. The game you’re playing, it never ends well. I urge you to consider a change, maybe clean house, if you know what I’m saying.”

  One of the waitresses appeared at the end of the hall, her long, even strides eating up the carpet. When she finally noticed the men standing there, she smiled hesitantly, unsure of what she had walked in on.

  Detective Young offered her a friendly greeting and tilted his head at Luke. “Think about what I said. I’ll see you around.”

  Luke stood in the doorway watching until the detective disappeared into the darkened club, and then returned to his office. He knew to expect someone would eventually come around asking questions, but it still irked him that the focus was mainly on him and not the investigation. As if he had something to do with that kid getting mowed down.

  Anger pulsed through his body in waves, causing a slight tremor in his hands as he pulled up his chair and settled behind the desk. The detective was right, of course. Luke didn’t work with the law, he worked around the law. And he did know more than he was telling. Terri’s husband was probably the person behind all of this, but who was listening? No one, and Luke had a sneaking feeling why that was. It seemed good old Randy was getting some help on the inside, but from whom?

  Randy needed money, like, yesterday. He’d been too busy hunting his wife to hunt for a job just yet, so he decided to pay a visit to his benefactor. Pulling up to the pristine home that resembled his own home once upon a time, Randy stepped down from the cab and headed up the walk. The door opened before his foot could touch the first step, and out stepped the man he’d come to see.

  “Randy,” the man said, eyes darting around nervously to be sure no one had noticed his arrival. “What are you doing here?” He ushered him inside and quickly shut the door.

  “I need more money,” Randy said, making himself at home on the suede sectional.

  Taking the seat across from him, the man regarded Randy coolly. “Randy, we agreed that if you needed something, you’d call first. You can’t just show up at my house like this. Someone could see you, and, no offense, but I cannot be associated with you. I have a wife and kids to feed, a reputation to protect.”

  Randy fixed him with a level stare. “Look, Jerry,” he said calmly, though his temperature had begun to rise, “money doesn’t make itself, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m an ex-con now. People aren’t exactly lining up to hire me.”

  “Have you looked?” Jerry asked skeptically.

  Randy’s hand sliced the air. “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” Jerry demanded, causing Randy to narrow his eyes dangerously at him.

  “The point is,” he gritted, “that you agreed to help me, and you’d do good to keep your promises. You’re hands aren’t exactly clean here,” he reminded him. Sinking further into the comfortable cushions, he kicked his feet up on the glass top coffee table, earning a disapproving look from Jerry, who, wisely, kept his opinions to himself.

  “I know what I agreed to,” Jerry said miserably, “and I have done everything you asked.”

  “Yes, you have,” Randy agreed. “And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  “Yeah,” Jerry muttered, dropping his gaze. His brows pinched, and Randy could practically see the wheels spinning underneath that glossy, balding head of his. When his eyes lifted again, they were filled with resolve. “I can have the money transferred to the account I set up for you. The usual, three grand?” he asked.

  “Better make it double,” Randy grunted, thinking of all the things he had yet to do to make his plans come together.

  Jerry’s bushy eyebrows shot up to where his hairline should have been. “That’s a lot of money.”

  Randy shrugged, uncaring. “Whether you give it to me today or a week from now, you’d still be out the money, so what difference does it make?”

  “It’s just…”

  “Just what?” Randy snapped, making the guy twitch.

  Swiping a hand down his face, Jerry sighed. “It’s just that I feel we need to be careful here. If my wife ever finds out that I’m pulling money from our retirement before I can put it back, she’ll ask questions.”

  “So don’t answer,” Randy said with an unsympathetic shrug of a shoulder.

  Jerry eyed him disdainfully. “Maybe you could do that, but my wife and I have a very open and honest relationship.”

  “Honest,” Randy scoffed. “So I take it you told her all about the skeletons hiding in your closet. How you stole money from little old ladies’ estates, overcharged clients and recorded only part of the money so you could pocket the rest. Maybe she knows how you hired all those pretty blonde receptionists who were so eager—”

  “Alright, stop!” Jerry’s face was flushed, his hands fisted at his sides. “I get it. Don’t worry about the money. I’ll make sure it’s all there.” Randy smiled, pleased. Eager to turn the conversation in a different direction, Jerry said, “How are things going with Terri? Has she come around yet?”

  The corners of Randy’s mouth turned up in a bitter grin that could send icy chills up the spine of even the hardest man. “Terri is Terri,” Randy explained. “She was pigheaded when I met her, and nothing has changed.”

  Jerry nodded his understanding. “So no luck.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Silence settled like a shroud over the room, the light ticking of a clock nearby the only sound. Finally, Jerry broke the silence. “I almost forgot to tell you. I spoke with the judge earlier this week and convinced him to stall the divorce a couple more weeks. He made it very clear he doesn’t like bending the rules, but he agrees that you should be given the opportunity to reconcile, given the circumstances.”

  “Aw, no mention of my winning personality,” Randy said contemptuously.

  Jerry’s pinched expression spelled his discomfort. “At any rate, we bought a couple more weeks, but I suggest you do whatever you’re doing, fast.”

  “Don’t you think I’m trying to do that?” Randy barked, his nostrils flaring. “The woman is skittish and stubborn as a mule. I’ve barely talked to her and already she’s running away!”

  “What do you mean by running away?”

  “I mean she fucking disappeared!” Randy roared, coming out of his seat so fast Jerry took a couple steps back, putting distance between them. “Her place is empty. I trashed her car, so I know she isn’t driving it to work. I know she’s with that…that fucktard with the expensive car,” he seethed, “but I have no way of finding out who he is or where he lives.” Stabbing his fingers through his hair, Randy fisted the roots and tugged furiously, leaving wild tufts sticking out everywhere when he finally dropped his hands in defeat. “This whole thing is falling apart.” Defeated, Randy slumped back onto the couch again.

  Very carefully, as if addressing a rabid animal, Jerry eased himself back down in his seat. “Plans were made to change,” he started. “You just have to change with them. Let me see here…” Reaching into his back pocket, he withdrew his wallet and fingered through it. He came up with a business card. “This is the number of a guy I know who specializes in finding people who don’t want to be found.”

  Randy’s face brightened and he sat up straighter, smoothing his clothing. “Is that so?”

  “It is,” Jerry said, nodding eagerly. “He can find just about anyone, all he needs is a name and a description.”

  “Then give it to him,” Randy demanded almost desperately.

  “As soon as you leave, you can count on it,” Jerry
promised.

  Randy’s lips quirked up on one side, giving him a lopsided smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you wanted me to go.”

  “It’s not that,” Jerry said, eyes widening. “But my wife will be home with the girls soon, and you being here would cause a lot of questions.”

  “Well, I could leave,” Randy mused, spreading his arms over the back of the sofa. “But it occurs to me that I’ve never met the missus.”

  Jerry’s expression hardened. “What do you want?”

  “How long will it take to transfer the money into the account?”

  “Two days,” Jerry said, his eyes turning into slits of hatred, because he could feel what was coming next.

  “Two days…” Randy pegged him with a hard stare. “I can’t wait two days, Jerry. I need money today. Now.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money just lying around the house,”’ Jerry nearly shouted.

  “Did I ever tell you that I don’t like when people yell at me, Jerry?” Randy said in a deadly calm tone that bespoke his anger more effectively than if he had screamed the words. He paused a moment to regain his thoughts. “I’m out of cash. I need food, gas, those sorts of things.”

  Jerry jerked his wallet from his pocket. Pulling out a hunk of cash, he thrust it in Randy’s face. “Here. That’s all I’ve got on me.”

  Looking mighty pleased, Randy grinned and accepted the money. “Wow, Jerry, how kind of you to offer. You didn’t have to do that,” he said, stuffing the wad into his jeans pocket. Getting to his feet, Randy strode to the door. “Make sure you call your friend and get him on it. I want Terri found, the sooner, the better.”

  “Sure,” Jerry agreed solemnly. “And I’ll put in for the transfer tonight.”

  “See that you do. Oh and, Jerry,” Randy said, almost as an afterthought. “Tell your wife I said hello.” Grinning, Randy opened the door and stepped out into the sunshine. As he climbed into the truck and settled himself behind the wheel, he soaked in that rare slice of serenity that came with knowing that all your best laid plans were finally about to come to fruition.