All Night Long (40 page)

Irene’s brows rose. “Speaking of your SUV, what reason did Victor Webb give you when he borrowed it?”

“He didn’t exactly knock on my door and ask permission to take it,” Sam said evenly. “He stole it while I was here in my office. I got a call from the chief of police over in Kirbyville saying he’d found the vehicle abandoned out near the old Ventana Estates subdivision site. We both figured some kids had taken it joyriding.”

“Victor must have been desperate to use your vehicle to try to get rid of me,” Irene said. “It meant he had to take the risk of slipping into town and stealing the SUV out of your garage without being seen.”

“Not that much risk involved.” Sam shrugged. “He probably used the old logging trail that runs through the forest behind my subdivision. Remember, he hunted around here all of his life. He knows the terrain as well as he knows his own face in the mirror.”

“Still, it seems odd that he used your SUV,” Irene insisted. “Why not his own vehicle? Or a rental? And why did he leave the syringe in your glove compartment?”

“Because he knew that things were starting to fray,” Luke said quietly. “Victor realized that there was a growing risk that the situation would get out of control. If that happened,
he wanted to be sure that there was a convenient fall guy.”

Irene’s face tightened with dismay. She looked at Sam.

“You,” she whispered.

“Me,” Sam agreed. “He was setting me up. Just in case.”

None of them spoke for a while.

Eventually Sam fixed Irene with his world-weary look. “Your dad knew about the gossip that I was Victor Webb’s son. He talked to me about it once.”

“When was that?” Irene asked.

“One night when he found me pursuing my favorite hobby, getting drunk at Harry’s Hang-Out. That was just after Mom had died. I wasn’t handling things very well. He shoved me into his cruiser and took me for a ride. Talked to me.”

“What did he say?” Irene asked.

“He told me that in the end it doesn’t matter who your father is. He said sooner or later, every man has to take responsibility for inventing himself, has to decide just what kind of man he wants to be. A week later he offered me a job with the department on the condition that I never came to work drunk and never drank on duty. I promised him I wouldn’t. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, Irene, but I kept my word to him all these years.”

“It does mean something.” Irene reached across the desk and touched his hand. “It would have been important to Dad, so it’s important to me.” She rose and looped the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. “You know, I have a very clear memory of the evening that Dad told Mom over dinner that he had given you the job. He said you had what it took to be a good cop.”

Sam frowned. “Hugh Stenson said that?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You know, my father was an excellent judge of character.”

Sam looked at her the way a man looks at the doctor who has just told him the lab tests came back benign.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice very husky. “Thanks.”

.  .  .

H
e sat at his desk for a long time after they had left. It was as if he had been living inside a cage all of his life, Sam thought. But Irene had just opened the door. All he had to do was walk through it.

Still, like any creature faced with a sudden twist of fortune, he hesitated, giving himself time to adjust to the idea of moving into a slightly altered universe.

When he thought he was ready, he opened a drawer, removed the slender volume that was the Dunsley phone book and flipped through the pages until he found the listing.

He punched in the number with short, stabbing motions.

She answered on the first ring.

“This is Sam,” he said. “Sam McPherson.”

“Oh, hello, Sam.” She sounded surprised but not displeased.

“I was just wondering if you would like to have dinner with me some night this week,” he said, bracing himself for rejection. “Maybe go over to Kirbyville. If you can get away, that is. If you’re not doing something else. I mean, I realize that you’re really busy these days.”

“Why, Sam, I’d love to have dinner with you,” Maxine said.

H
eard that bastard Victor Webb died from complications following surgery,” Hackett said.

“No loss, as far as I’m concerned.” Luke sat sprawled in a chair in Hackett’s office, elbows propped on the arms, fingertips together. “The man murdered in cold blood at least five people that we know of. Wouldn’t be surprised if there was another victim, too.”

“Who?”

“Bob Thornhill, the man who took Irene’s father’s place as chief of police for a few months. The circumstances of his death are more than a little suspicious. Got a hunch Webb killed him after he was sure all of the evidence and records relating to the deaths of the Stensons had been destroyed.”

“Used him and then got rid of him.” Hackett shook his head. “Victor Webb must have been a complete sociopath.”

“I’m just thanking my lucky stars he didn’t realize that Irene would be a problem until it was too late. It was still one damn close call. If she hadn’t told Maxine and Tucker Mills where she was going that afternoon when Webb cornered her at the house on Pine Lane—”

“But she did tell them,” Hackett interrupted evenly. “And you saved her. Don’t waste your time thinking about possibilities that didn’t happen.”

Luke smiled. “Hey, you know, that’s good advice. I believe I’ll take it. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now what’s this I hear about selling the lodge?”

“I’m signing the papers tomorrow.”

Hackett’s brows knitted together in a troubled frown. “Why? Don’t get me wrong, no one in the family figured you’d last long in the hospitality industry, but this seems like a rather sudden decision.”

“Another one of my unpredictable little turns, you mean?” Luke nodded. “Guess it looks that way. But truth is, the lodge was never meant to be more than a temporary arrangement. I just needed a quiet place where I could work on my book for a few months.”

Hackett looked bewildered. “You’re writing a book?”

“Been working on it for a while. Another month and it will be finished.”

Hackett flattened both hands on the desk. “Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Well, I did mention to the Old Man that I was doing a little writing.”

“‘Doing a little writing’ is not the same as writing a book, for crying out loud.”

“Cut me some slack, here. Everyone in the family assumes that I’m having problems adjusting to the real world. No offense, but I didn’t think it would be smart to give you all more ammunition for thinking I was becoming downright eccentric.” Luke shrugged. “Besides, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to finish the damned thing. Got the end in sight now, though.”

Hackett turned abruptly curious. “Have you sold it?”

“Not yet. But I’ve got an agent who likes the first few chapters and thinks she can peddle it if the rest of the book holds up.”

Hackett pondered that for a while. “So, why are you moving away from Dunsley?”

“Among other things, it turns out the place wasn’t quite as quiet as I had anticipated. Thought I’d try another town.”

“What other town?”

“Glaston Cove.”

Understanding lit Hackett’s eyes. He started to smile. “This is about Irene, isn’t it?”

“It is all about Irene.”

“You know something? I think she’s going to be very good for you. Maybe just what you need.”

“That’s sort of how I’m looking at it,” Luke said. “By the way, while we’re on the subject of my little idiosyncrasies, I would like to clarify what appears to be a serious misunderstanding of what, exactly, happened the weekend that Katy and I went away together.”

Hackett stopped smiling. “I heard that nothing happened because of, uh, your problem.”

“That’s half true.”

“Only half?” Hackett looked wary.

“Nothing happened. But the real reason nothing happened was that Katy and I came to our senses and realized that, although we will always be very fond of each other, we are never going to be in love.”

“She had a crush on you when she was a teenager.”

“That’s all it was, a crush. Lasted about five seconds, as I recall. Hell, I’m too old for her, and she’s way too young for me.”

“She agreed to marry you,” Hackett said evenly.

“Don’t blame me for that. It was your fault.”

“
My
fault?”

“Yours and the Old Man’s and everyone else’s in the family. Katy went along with the engagement because you and the others put the mother of all guilt trips on her. You convinced her that I was an emotional basket case and that I might crack under the slightest bit of pressure. She was
terrified that if she rejected me, I might follow the same path that my mother took.”

Hackett was appalled. “I swear, we never meant to make her think that she would be responsible if you did something like that.”

“Yeah, well, that was how it went down. Guess it falls into the no-good-deed-goes-unpunished category.”

“Well, damn.” Hackett sagged a little, as though he had taken a body blow. Then he straightened. “You really aren’t in love with Katy?”

Luke gripped the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. “No. And she is definitely not in love with me.”

“Wait a second. If you weren’t in love with her, why the hell did you ask her to marry you in the first place?”

Luke walked to the door. “Getting married was part of my strategy. It was one of the things I thought I needed to do to feel normal again.”

He opened the door.

Hackett was on his feet, circling his desk. “Luke, wait.”

Luke looked back at him, smiling slightly. “It’s okay, Hack. Turns out I had the wrong objective. The trick to dealing with real life is to accept the fact that sometimes things never go all the way back to normal.”

He went out into the carpeted hall and closed the door.

H
ackett stood perfectly still for a few seconds, savoring the incredible sensation that was sweeping through him. He felt as if he had just been released from the weight of an ocean that had been crushing him for the past few months.

He lunged for the door, flung it open and went swiftly down the hall to Public Relations.

Jason came around the corner, a half-eaten wedge of pizza in one hand. “What’s up?”

Hackett did not break his stride. “I’m going to try to get a date. Wish me luck.”

Jason grinned. “This sounds like fun. Can I watch?”

“Go eat your pizza.”

He went through the open door of Public Relations. Katy was seated at her desk, talking on the phone. Her eyes widened a little when she saw him.

“I’ll get right back to you, Mr. Perkins,” she said quickly. She hung up and looked at Hackett. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong today.” He reached down and hauled her up out of the chair. “Today is a perfect day.”

She laughed, confused but delighted. “How is it perfect?”

“Luke just told me that he is not in love with you. He said he never was in love with you and you are not in love with him, and that is the real reason nothing happened that weekend when the two of you went away together.”

She went still. “He said all that?”

“Yes. Can you confirm?”

She swallowed hard. “I can definitely confirm that I am not in love with him.”

“He also assured me that in spite of the Old Man’s and Dr. Van Dyke’s fears, he is not in the slightest danger of doing himself any harm. You know what? I believe him. Luke can be stubborn and difficult and unpredictable, but he has never lied to me in my entire life.”

“Good point,” Jason said around a mouthful of pizza. “Maybe we should have listened when he kept telling us not to worry about him.”

Katy glowed with hope. “Does this mean we don’t have to be concerned about Luke anymore?”

“Luke can take care of himself,” Hackett said. “What’s more, if he does run into trouble, he’s got someone he can call on for backup now.”

“I’m guessing that would be Irene,” Jason said.

“You guess right.” Hackett did not take his eyes off Katy. He knew that his whole future was hanging in the balance. “Will you have dinner with me tonight? Someplace very private. Just the two of us.”

She put her arms around his neck. Her smile lit up the room. “I would like that very much. I’ve even got a great idea where we can go.”

“I am open to suggestion.”

“My place,” she said.

“Like I said, this is a perfect day.”

He pulled her close and kissed her.

“Boy, howdy, this sure explains a few things,” Jason said. “Obviously, what we had here was a major breakdown in communications between the executive suite and the PR department. Glad we got that straightened out. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another slice of pizza.”

Hackett ignored him. So did Katy.