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Authors: Heather Graham

BOOK: Sensuous Angel
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Then, suddenly, there was silence. She heard a voice, Luke’s voice, shouting from a window high in the tenement.

“We’re coming out. We’ve got Pierce.”

Another voice answered him over a bullhorn. “Take him carefully, gentlemen. And make sure someone’s read him his rights.”

The door to the tenement opened. Donna could see four figures: the two plainclothesmen, Luke, and the man she had to assume to be Pierce.

Donna crawled on the ground. There were lights blazing on the entrance to the house now. The four men were walking down the entryway steps.

Someone suddenly knocked into her from behind. She spun about to see an officer in uniform.

“Lady, what are you doing here?” he demanded in dismay.

“St-standing.” Donna muttered out the obvious.

“Well, get out of here!”

“Hey—he’s loose and running!” someone suddenly shouted.

“Fire a warning shot!” the voice of authority called out harshly over the bullhorn.

The explosion of a bullet sounded again. Suddenly the officer was shoving Donna, throwing her to the ground. Her head grazed the cement sidewalk, and she was stunned.

“What…?”

She didn’t need to ask the question. Heavy footsteps were pounding all about her. The man—Pierce—was trying to escape and the officer had only been trying to shield her from the bullet.

Pierce was racing by her. She saw his legs fly and then she saw him drop to the ground. Someone was grappling with him so close that one good roll would bring the two of them on top of Donna.

The officer was trying to pull her away but that big roll she had been fearing suddenly, abruptly came.

The man who had tackled Pierce was Luke. In the middle of the fight, Luke was suddenly staring into her eyes!

“Donna!” He gasped.

And that’s when Pierce hit him—hard, with the wrist that dangled a pair of handcuffs that had never made it around the other wrist.

“Luke!” Donna screamed.

He shook his head; the blow had staggered him. But then he ignored Donna and returned the blow with his own right punch to Pierce’s jaw. Pierce was down. A little grunt escaped him, but he fell as sweetly as a kid going to sleep.

But then Luke fell too, right on top of Pierce.

“No!” Donna screamed.

“Come on, lady—let’s go!”

It was the uniformed officer again. His grip on her was firm, and he was dragging her away.

“Wait!” she cried, but she could no longer see Luke or Pierce. They were now surrounded by other officers.

Cops were all over the lawn. She was being dragged away and Luke was in the middle of it all.

“Come on along, now, ma’am.”

“Wait. I can’t. Please! Luke—”

“They’ll bring him along in a minute. We want to get you taken care of right away.”

“Taken care of—”

She didn’t finish. She felt herself lifted, then set down, and she realized she was in the back of a rescue vehicle. Another man in a white coat was easing her shoulders back onto a cot.

“I’m fine!” Donna protested.

The door slammed; the ambulance attendant forced her shoulders down. “Just relax now, we have to see the extent of your injuries.”

“I’m not injured!” Donna wailed. “But my husband—don’t you understand! I just want to see my husband.”

The man spoke in a very practiced, soothing voice. “You’re the father’s wife?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“He’ll be right along. We’ve got to see to your head injury.”

“Head injury?” Donna’s fingers came to her forehead. She felt something sticky. Blood. She didn’t even remember being scratched. Oh, yes, her head had collided with the sidewalk.

“I promise you, they’ll be right along. Now just lie back.

She could still hear the sirens screaming. Donna gave up and lay back.

She wasn’t really injured. She had known she wasn’t. She just had a scratch on her head from the brush with the cement, and a few bruises. But they were quick and efficient in the emergency room, and if she hadn’t been half out of her mind with concern for Luke, she would have been grateful for the concern shown her.

As it was, she couldn’t help badgering the people working over her. And when it seemed that they had finished with their x-rays and bandages, she sat up on the cot and demanded, “I want to know where my husband is now. I want to see him.”

An ironclad matron of a nurse gave her a firm smile. “You just sit right here, Mrs. Trudeau. Someone will be with you in a minute.”

The nurse closed a white curtain and left her. Donna stared dismally at it. If Luke was hurt, it was her fault. She had been there, she had gotten in the way.

Please God, she prayed quickly, don’t let him be hurt….

But, she wailed silently to herself, if he had only trusted her, if he had only been honest with her, she wouldn’t have been there.

But that didn’t matter. If he was hurt, it would still be her fault. But what had he been doing there?

The curtain moved. Donna glanced sharply at it with high anticipation, getting off the cot quickly. But it wasn’t Luke who came through the little opening. It was Andrew.

Donna’s outstretched arms fell to her sides. She spun from him in sudden anger, tears glazing her eyes.

“Donna, I need to talk to you.”

“Where’s Luke?” she asked him bitterly.

“Upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Donna forgot her anger. “What’s wrong with him? What happened? How badly was he hurt?” Then suddenly she was running toward him, pummeling her fists against his chest. “I want to know what’s going on, Andrew! So help me God, don’t tell me to trust you. I want to know what happened.”

Andrew caught her wrists, pulled her to him, and tried to soothe her. “Donna, Donna, I came here to try to explain.”

She didn’t say anything. They could both feel one another’s heartbeats.

“Donna, please?” Andrew said quietly. Anger and strength seemed to seep away from her. She leaned heavily against him.

“You’re not going to hit me any more?” he asked, his tone almost teasing. He wouldn’t use such a light tone if Luke were really hurt, she thought, reassured.

“No, I’m not going to hit you any more.”

He set her from him, still supporting her. “Get your things. We’ll slip into a staff lounge. A little more privacy in case the place should suddenly get crowded.”

A few minutes later they were secluded in a doctor’s office. Donna sat behind the desk, sipping pale tea in a Styrofoam cup, Andrew was prowling about with a cup of lukewarm coffee.

“Andrew?” she pleaded. “Andrew, come on, I know that you have something to do with this.”

“Well, no, actually,” he murmured, pausing in his restless pacing to offer her a dry grin. “I didn’t have anything to do with tonight at all. It’s just that news travels fast in police circles, so I knew what happened, knew that you were here—”

“And Luke?” she implored.

“Luke is okay. Shocking the hospital staff by swearing at them all that he wants to leave.”

“I want to see him,” Donna said flatly.

“You will,” Andrew told her softly. “I just felt that…maybe I should give you a few explanations first. I swear to you that Luke is going to be okay. They want to keep him here overnight for observation; he got whacked pretty hard with those cuffs.” He paused a moment. “Pierce was a desperate man. He’s wanted for five counts of armed robbery in the state of New York; Florida wants him for murder.”

A shiver settled over Donna, fear taking hold of her again. God knows what could have happened to her if Luke hadn’t been there….

But was this to be her life? What was Luke’s connection with the police beyond Andrew?

“You followed Luke, didn’t you?” Andrew asked her reproachfully, accusingly.

She lifted her chin. “Yes, I did, Andrew. I had to understand what was going on.”

Andrew grinned and at last perched on the edge of the desk. “I told Luke that he should tell you everything. He said you were shying away from him to begin with just because he was a priest; if you knew anything else….”

“Andrew!” Donna placed her cup firmly on the desk. She was still trembling, but she believed her words were honest. “I love Luke. Nothing changes that, but being kept in the dark makes it very hard.”

“My opinion exactly,” Andrew, said. “Luke was just so scared—”

“Scared!” She felt ridiculously like laughing. She had never thought Luke could be even remotely frightened of anything.

“He fell in love with you. Love is a very powerful weapon.”

She looked away. “Go on, Andrew, please.”

He sighed. “Okay, I’m just trying to find a place to start.” He was silent for a minute.

Donna had to clench her fingers together to keep from prodding him. Then he took so long that Donna decided to prod him anyway. “Andrew, does Luke work for the police?”

“No, I mean, he’s not on the city’s payroll, or anything. He really is a priest, exactly the man you know.”

“So…”

“He…helps the police,” Andrew said at last. “Tonight…Donna, Luke gets called in when everyone draws a blank. When the clues don’t make any sense. When things get desperate.”

Donna shook her head. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s a fifty-fifty shot. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But we had a case when you first came to New York. A little girl disappeared. We had nothing to go on. She left school, just as usual, and disappeared. We were stumped. They asked Luke to come in. He went up and sat in her room for a while, and then he was able to tell us that the child’s father—the parents were divorced—had taken her. It was true. We found the father, and we found the little girl.”

“What are you telling me? That Luke is…psychic?”

“I don’t call it anything, and neither does Luke. And as I said, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. They’ve been looking for Pierce for months; he held up a liquor store today, and the bullets went flying. We were lucky a half-dozen people weren’t killed. They knew he holed up somewhere afterward; they wanted him fast, before someone else was killed. They called Luke.”

Donna stared down at her fingers. They were shaking. What did she feel? Frightened…alienated? Yes, she was very frightened. Very unsure….

“There’s more to this.”

She stared up at Andrew, suddenly certain that she didn’t want to hear anymore.

“This Simson thing…the case that has us keeping Lorna underground and out of sight.”

“Yes?” Her voice sounded thick; too slow.

Andrew sipped at his coffee, as if he had said something that he didn’t want to finish. “Do you remember my telling you that…one of the first victims died?”

“Yes.”

“It was April.”

“Oh, my God!” Donna gasped. She felt cold. Numb. And yet through all the coldness, all the numbness, she felt a wrench of pain like a knife wound.

“And it has been one instance,” Andrew continued, “where Luke has come up with nothing but blanks.”

She felt very, very dizzy, as if she had been caught in a ripping wave from which there was no escape. April…the wife he had loved so dearly. Lorna, still caught in a maze of justice, afraid to appear by daylight, losing months and months of her life to the forced necessity of hiding.

And Luke…Luke….He hadn’t trusted her, he hadn’t been completely honest. But she did love him.

The wave seemed to lift from her. The dizziness faded. She stood up, smiling at Andrew.

“I want to see Luke now.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should let all this sink in for a while.”

“I don’t need anything to sink in, Andrew. I’m okay. I’m fine, in fact. Andrew!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “I’m Luke’s wife, and I want to see him now.”

Andrew smiled slowly, then stood too and opened the door for her with a little bow.

“Room five-oh-two, Donna. If you don’t mind, though, I won’t join you.” He grimaced a bit sheepishly. “My brother isn’t fond of other people discussing his business, not even blood relations. I wouldn’t want to tempt him to strangle me.”

She laughed, feeling absurdly lighthearted for all the evening had brought her.

“I thought you had a right to know,” Andrew said softly.

“I did,” Donna replied. Impulsively she kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Andrew. And Andrew….”

“What?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Lorna, and maybe that isn’t my business. But I’m glad you’re in charge. I believe she is as safe as she can be.”

“Thanks…sis.”

Donna smiled. Then she turned to leave him, forgetting all about the one brother in her anxiety to see the other.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
HE LIGHT WITHIN THE
room was muted, but she could see Luke clearly. Her lips curled into a small smile; evidently he had eschewed the idea of a hospital gown and won. A stark white sheet was drawn to his chest, contrasting with the gleaming bronze of his body. His hair, too, seemed exceptionally dark against the whiteness of the pillow. The lines of his face seemed exceptionally strong and defined.

Donna moved silently in, quietly sitting in the bedside chair. She started to reach for his hand, stretched on the bed before her. His moved first, enveloping hers.

His eyes didn’t open, or maybe the thick black lashes did raise a whisper. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi, yourself,” she murmured, leaving the chair to shift her hips beside his on the bed.

His eyes opened fully. She loved their hazel depths, gold and green, a touch of heaven and of rich, verdant life.

“You’ve talked to Andrew, haven’t you?” he asked her.

Donna started uneasily. “How did you know?”

He closed his eyes, smiling a little bitterly. “No special power of communication, I assure you. I just believe you would have been here before if someone hadn’t stopped you. They told me they had released you from emergency half an hour ago.”

“Oh,” Donna murmured. Then: “Luke, why didn’t you tell me?”

He lifted his free hand, then allowed it to fall back to the bed. “I…don’t know. Maybe I was afraid. I didn’t know if you were just so beautiful that I fell in love, or if it was that wonderful streak of sweet and indignant morality that had me so allured. Your concern…your absolute determination to find a friend. The more I saw of you, the more I knew that I was right. The chemistry…the commitment. Donna, we were unalike in several ways. But very much alike in very important values: marriage…loving…caring….But you were so concerned about my being a priest. That was a commitment I had also made for life. I think that I was so worried about surmounting that obstacle in your heart that I was afraid to give you any other reasons to shy away from me.”

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