Just a Little (5-8) (7 page)

“Proof of what?” I eyed him a little closer.

“His tie to Rebecca,” he said. “To the kid.”

“And?”

“I’ve watched him ‘round the clock,” he said. “I’ve listened in on all of his conversations. I’ve kept a close eye on all of his interactions, especially ones with Rebecca. But I keep coming up empty-handed.”

“So
you
were spying on Luke?” I asked, trying to not to smile at the irony. Just weeks ago, Bruno was breathing down
my
neck about the consequences of spying on the people you love. Now here he was, looking as though he’d lost more than just a few nights of sleep, telling me that he’d done exactly what he’d warned me away from doing.

“Damn straight. Luke, Rebecca, the kid… anyone who might have the slightest insight on what’s going on.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, Miss Julie, I adore you,” he said. “And I promised you that there was more going on than what we saw on the surface. I’m going to prove that for your sake and my own.”

“Losing your sanity?”

“And too much sleep,” he brushed past the topic as though it was the last thing he wanted to discuss. “There’s something here that we’re not seeing, but I think I’m on the right track. I’ve got some guys doing some background research as we speak. I’m fairly certain we’ll have an answer by week’s end. I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I will.”

I gave Bruno a twisted smile and shook my head.

“What?”

“I thought you trusted Luke,” I said. “I thought you had a million reasons to believe he was trustworthy, honorable, worthy of a world of respect.”

“Things change,” he shrugged.

“So it seems,” I leaned over the center island, “but you didn’t answer my question earlier.” He raised his brow as if he didn’t remember what I’d asked. I lifted the folder that held the DNA results. “How’d you get this?”

“Oh, Luke was easy,” he said. “Saliva from his coffee mug in the break room.”

“And the girl?”

“Molly,” he said. “You’ve seen her, right? She’s a short little booger: bright blue eyes, dimpled cheeks, bouncing blonde curls. You couldn’t mistake that hair for anyone else’s.”

“True.”

“I saw one of those stray curls clinging to her mother’s coat at the flower shop. Snatched it up, took it over to the lab, and asked the technician for priority placement. Few days later and
bam
! Results were ready.”

“But only a small percent of matching genes,” I said again, looking over the results for the hundredth time. “Does that mean she’s family?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought you said—”

“Lonnie and Grace didn’t know her before she showed up in Oakland,” he said. “They’ll swear to that. As far as I know, as far as
they
know,
Rebecca’s
not related. Molly is.”

“I don’t know how this stuff works,” I hoped Bruno could provide the insight that I needed. “Does this mean Luke is Molly’s dad?”

“Not possible,” he said. “A paternity test would’ve concluded a much higher percentage—much closer to fifty percent. We’re looking at less than twenty-five percent between Luke and Molly.”

“So what, then?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “They’re family; we know that. But not father and daughter. It’s just a matter of figuring out how Rebecca fits in to the equation. That’s the hard part. No one had heard of her until she blew into town a few weeks ago.”

“Luke knows,” I said, dropping my head. I was sure of it. The only way he’d keep hanging around them—spending every waking moment with them—was if he knew exactly what connection he had with them. “That’s what kills me, Bruno. He knows the truth. Here we are running around like a bunch of crazy people trying to figure out what’s going on, and he could just tell us.”

“If he wanted us to know, we would know,” he patted my hand. “Everything will get sorted out in due time, sweetheart. I promise.” I shook my head and read the results again, still trying to figure out how Rebecca and Molly could possibly fit into Luke’s life with Lonnie never having heard of her. Maybe she was one of his mother’s distant relatives?

Bruno adjusted his belt. “Sorry to run, but I’ve gotta get to the airport by seven.”

“Airport?” I asked. “You’re fleeing town right in the middle of an investigation?”

“Heading out west for a few days.”

“On business?”

“Something like that.”

“But you’ll be home for my surprise party on Friday, right?” I hoped he wasn’t planning on staying away too long. Bruno had somehow become one of the few people I felt I could truly count on. If there was anyone I wanted to celebrate my birthday with, it was him.

A simple grin curved his lips, and he shook his head to ward off a laugh. “You know about the party?”

“Don’t forget who’s throwing it,” I said, almost laughing. “I know he thinks he’s throwing me off the trail by waiting a few days after my actual birthday, but I’ve known for a while. Secrets aren’t exactly Charlie’s forte.”

“Agreed,” he winked, “and yes, I’ll be back in plenty of time. In the meantime, keep a low profile. Don’t let on that you know anything, okay?”

“Know anything about what?”

“Good girl,” he gave me one swift pat on the back. “Have a good birthday tomorrow, and I’ll see you Friday.”

I walked him to the front door and watched as he made his way to the car.

“Hey Bruno,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, “thanks. For everything.”

“Sure.” He zipped his jacket and opened the car door. “Anytime, Julie.”

CHAPTER TWO

Tuesday, March 05|10:00 p.m.

Charlie passed out on the couch around nine. Sometime between old sitcom reruns and stuffing his face with day-old pizza, he somehow managed to drift into a deep sleep. And I mean
deep
. He hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since he closed his eyes. Surprisingly, even Matt’s return from his shift at the flower shop hadn’t disturbed Charlie’s slumber.

After my cousin trekked upstairs and into his bedroom to settle in for the night, I gave the living room a quick once-over. I tossed the pizza box in the garbage, collected a few empty soda cans, and laid a blanket over my sleeping uncle. With a quick kiss to the forehead, I pried the remote from his hand and turned off the TV.

It wasn’t until an hour later that the silence in the house became unbearable. Both of the guys were fast asleep, not at all in keeping with their normal schedules. Which, yes, I understood. They were overworked—Charlie, with the shifts at the station and party planning; Matt, with school and his (secret) double work schedule. With them in bed and the house without the usual buzz of the television or Matt’s late night phone conversation with Kara, there wasn’t much to distract me from the constant replay of my earlier meeting with Bruno. The deafening silence had only opened up endless opportunities for me to overthink every minute detail of what I’d learned.

I found myself heading upstairs sometime before eleven. After a quick change into some pajamas, a pair of Luke’s old sweatpants and a tee-shirt, I slipped into bed. I prayed for sleep to find me as quickly as it’d found the rest of my family, but I had no such luck. My brain wasn’t nearly as tired as the rest of my body. So after a bout of sheep counting (I managed to count at least seven hundred before giving up), I pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. I left my room and headed down the dark hallway, managing to avoid most of the creaky floorboards. When I finally reached the bathroom and closed the door, I turned on the shower and quickly stripped my pajamas to the floor.

Moments later, I gladly stood beneath a scalding stream and let it pelt against the back of my neck. Masochistic as it seemed, the scorching water turned out to be the exact distraction I’d been looking for. I needed something—
anything
—to take my mind off of Luke, Bruno, and that dreaded surprise party.

I needed answers.

No, what I needed was an escape plan.

No, seriously, what I needed was to make like Derek and get the hell out of dodge.

But running would only get me so far. It’d take me away from the people, but it wouldn’t take me away from the problems. At the end of the day, I’d still be stuck facing my demons. Running seemed as likely an answer as eating a gallon of ice cream. Good in theory, bad in practice.

I dropped my head against the shower wall and let the hot water fall onto my shoulders. Slowly but surely, second by second, the tension in my muscles began to melt away. Only minutes later, I heard rustling in the hallway. Assuming Charlie had finally decided to come upstairs to bed, I ignored the noise and closed my eyes. It wasn’t until the door creaked open that I stood straight, nearly paralyzed.

“Hello,” I said, offended that Matt or Charlie would think it was okay to just barge in. “Occupied, obviously.”

When the door closed, I immediately knew I wasn’t alone. Whoever had walked into the bathroom hadn’t left. There was a heaviness settling in the pit of my stomach, a nervousness that I couldn’t explain. It was that feeling all over again—that familiar feeling of being watched. Matt wouldn’t do this to me, and neither would Charlie.

“Hello?” I asked, almost too afraid to move, too scared to peer out and see who had followed me into the bathroom. I wondered if this was how my parents felt on the night they were killed. I wondered if they’d felt this scared, this helpless, this trapped.

“Hello?” I said again, my voice nearly giving out.

When I didn’t get a response, I summoned the courage to poke my head out.

Luke stood at the other end of the bathroom, holding his finger up to his mouth. “Don’t scream.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked through clenched teeth. As much as I wanted to yell at him for seriously overstepping personal boundaries, I found myself on the verge of thanking him. Thanking him for what, I didn’t know. In all honesty, I didn’t know what—or who—to expect when I looked out. But I was just happy it was Luke and not some psychotic murderer out for revenge.

I pulled the shower curtain closer to my body as I stared at him. “Luke,” I shook my head, “what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Now?” I asked, wondering what had possessed him to think it was okay to waltz in unannounced. While I stood naked, wet, and vulnerable in the shower, he was only feet away, unfazed by the awkwardness of the situation.
Leave it to him to find a way to make me feel uncomfortable even in my own skin
. “This is kinda a bad time—”

“It’s never a good time with you,” he kept his back against the far wall. I rolled my eyes and pulled my head back into the shower. I turned the water off and stood shivering in the tub, cold beads of water dripping from my hair.

“I need a—”

“Towel,” Luke dropped one over the railing. The towel landed on my head and covered my eyes. “Dry yourself off. I’ll be waiting in your room.” The door opened and closed yet again, and this time I peered out to make sure he was gone. After wrapping the towel securely around my torso, I shot out of the tub and across the bathroom to lock the door. I leaned against it, dropped my head, and stared at my wet feet.

A surprise visit from Luke in the middle of the night... I couldn’t possibly see how this was going to end well.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he said when I reentered my bedroom a few minutes later. He sat on the corner of my unmade bed and watched as I stared at him with pursed lips. Now dressed and drying my hair, I felt a little more comfortable facing him. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I threw the wet towel in his face. He quickly pulled it away and tossed it aside.

“Come here,” he whispered, reaching forward to take my wrist. He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist. His strong hand gently stroked my back, further relieving the tension that had built over the last few days. He lowered his head against mine, closed his eyes, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheekbone. A few moments of silence passed before either of us moved or said another word. Only then was it Luke who made the next move, and it nearly stopped my heart beating altogether. The warmth of his breath danced across my cheek as he whispered a quiet “happy birthday.”

I closed my eyes and let all the familiarity sink in. His voice, his scent, his breath… everything about him made me feel weak in the knees. No matter how much I wanted to ignore it, I couldn’t dismiss the way my body responded to him. Just a simple touch made me want to lose all self-control. My brain begged me to run, to recognize the manipulation as it was happening, but there was no reasoning with my heart. Having him so close, his warm body pressed firmly beneath mine, I almost managed to forget why I’d ever been mad at him in the first place.

“Luke,” I said, almost whispering, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.”

“How’d you get in?” I asked. “I locked all the doors before I came upstairs.”

He nodded at my open window. “You know the thing’s stuck, right? I couldn’t get it shut—”

“It’s been jammed for days. Charlie’s got someone coming out to fix it.”

“Good,” he nodded.

“What are you really doing here?” I asked, shaking my head. “It’s the middle of the night.”

He leaned back to steal a look at the alarm clock. “I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning,” I realized that it was now indeed my birthday. “It couldn’t wait?”

“I’ll go,” he said, but he only slid closer, nuzzling his nose into the nape of my neck. At that point, I knew he had no intention of going anywhere. He lifted his head and watched me, “If that’s what you want.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I simply stared at him, watching the way his eyes reflected the moonlight. I saw something sweet and endearing. I saw a softness that I hadn’t seen in a long time, if ever before. There was something about the way he looked at me—there was something about the moment—that made me wonder why I’d been so stupid as to walk away from him.

Maybe I’d been too caught up in my own thoughts to realize it before, but I saw it now. Luke loved me.

“Jules?”

“Hmm?”

“I miss you,” he moved a few fine hairs from my face.

We watched each other in silence, neither of us making even the slightest sound.

“Hey,” he said, still not speaking in much more than a whisper. I didn’t know if he feared waking Charlie or Matt, or if he simply wanted to communicate something with his tone. Either way, he dropped his head and let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.”

As fast as the realization of his love had hit me, it faded again. He was sorry, but for what, exactly? He’d made my last few weeks completely unbearable. He’d lied, snuck around behind my back, devoted all his time and attention to someone he probably knew very little about, and he made it obvious that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. If he was truly sorry, great. But I had a hard time believing his remorse was anything close to sincere, especially considering the fact that I still didn’t know any more about his secrets than I knew this time last week.

“Luke, I understand that you’re sorry, but we broke up.”

“
You
broke up,” he brushed my cheek with his thumb. “
I
didn’t get a say.”

“Break-ups are rarely mutual,” I pulled away from him. I stood up and took a few steps away from the bed, giving myself some distance. I needed to put some space between us—literally and figuratively—to decide exactly what Luke meant to me. Was he worth the heartache? Was he truly worth all the time I’d wasted?

“Maybe you should go,” I hoped my tone was as polite as I’d intended. I didn’t want to force him out, I really didn’t, but I knew what was best for me—for both of us—and that was some much-needed space. “I just… I think we need some time apart.”

“Don’t do this, Julie,” he said, now standing. He took a step closer but stopped when I turned away. “Ten seconds ago you had no problem with me being here.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea.”

“Then let’s talk.”

“Luke, you lied to me. You’ve probably lied to me more than I even know. I just don’t know what to make of all of this.”

“All of what?”

“You coming over, sneaking in, kissing me—”

“Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly light, “you’ve never had a problem with me kissing you.”

“Of course I haven’t! Have you
seen
you?”

He raised his brow as if I’d just paid him the highest compliment of his life.

“Luke!” I shoved him. “Please be serious.”

“Come on, I’m just teasing. I’m trying to lighten the mood, kid. You’re being hostile; in case you haven’t noticed, that’s nothing new with you lately. Take a look in the mirror, Julie. You’re falling apart. You’re mean. You’re distant. You’re completely unapproachable.”

“But—”

“Listen, I’m just trying to get through to you,” he reached up to brush a hair away from my eyes. “Your family is worried about you.
I’m
worried, and I don’t know how to help you. You’re not answering my calls.”

“For a good reason—”

“Julie,” he softened his gaze, “you know damn well how much I love you. You
know
I can help you. You’re hurting. I can’t save you from the pain, but I can cushion the fall. You just have to let me in.”

I couldn’t buy into it any longer. It was about time that Luke was held responsible for his actions, starting with the immediate actions that led up to this very conversation. “For being an officer of the law, I’d think you’d know a thing or two about the crimes you’ve committed here tonight. You’re familiar with breaking and entering, right?”

Luke stopped his train of thought. His eyes widened as he stared at me baffled by what I’d said.

“Wow,” he said, his lip twitching, “there you go, right on schedule.”

“What?”

“Changing the subject, diverting the direction of the conversation as soon as things get serious,” he dropped his shoulders. “The moment things get too real, as soon as it gets too close for comfort, you shut down. You’ll say or do anything if it means avoiding the real issue.”

“The real issue?” I asked, almost appalled that he thought that my real issue didn’t directly involve him. “
You’re
the issue.”

“Except I’m not,” he said, and he looked as though he truly believed that. “I’ll let it slide that Matt and Charlie think your behavior lately has
everything
to do with you missing your parents. I’ll let them go about their lives trying to find a way to fill that void. Hell, I’ll even let them think
I’m
the bad guy for breaking your heart when you were at your most vulnerable. But just between the two of us, Julie, I won’t stand here and pretend that we don’t
both
know what’s really going on. I know why you’re pissed at me, and deep down so do you. You have to let it go. I only wanted to protect you.”