Hidden in Shadows (19 page)

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Authors: Hope White

BOOK: Hidden in Shadows
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TWENTY

K
rista gazed at the snowfall from the living room window of the condo. Snow always reminded her of Christmas, her favorite holiday.

It's almost over.

Luke's words filled her with a kind of dread she'd never felt before. It was the first time in her adult life she'd experienced love, the kind that kept her awake at night thinking about the possibilities. Thinking about Luke.

Yet for Luke this was about getting the bad guy and earning redemption for his partner's death.

“How about tea?” Natalie said from the sofa. She started to get up.

“Hey, hey, you're still recovering.” Krista rushed over and sat on the coffee table across from her. “You shouldn't have come with me. You should have stayed home and taken care of yourself.”

“Timothy thought it was a good idea. With friends around, you won't feel so scared.”

“I'm not scared. Luke said the case is almost over.”

“And then…?” Natalie shot her a sympathetic look.

“I get back to my normal life. Yay,” she said, half-heartedly.

“I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry? For what? It's my fault you were run off the road.”

“Don't say that. It wasn't your fault. It was the drug guy's fault, whoever has been after you for the past week.”

Frustrated, Krista stood. “But why? They got my luggage, they've broken into my house and business and—”

“How about some tea, ladies?” Timothy said, carrying in a tray with cups and saucers.

“If only I had a boyfriend like you,” Krista joked.

“Fiancé,” Natalie corrected.

“You have a brother or cousin that you haven't told us about, I hope?” Krista joked.

“Sorry, can't help you out there. But I make a mean cup of chamomile tea.” He put the tray down and Natalie reached for a cup.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” Timothy said. “That one's Krista's.”

“What's the difference?” Natalie eyed them.

They looked the same to Krista.

Timothy kissed Natalie on the forehead. “Yours has an herbal supplement I got at the health food store to help you heal.”

Natalie and Krista exchanged smiles.

“He's a keeper,” Krista said. She took her tea and sat down. Timothy went back into the kitchen.

Krista sipped her tea. It tasted bitter and she figured he'd steeped it too long.

“So, seriously,” Natalie started. “Have you told Luke how you feel?”

“Yes, but he can't think about stuff like that right now.”

“Stuff? You're in love with him, Krista. That's important.”

“And unfortunate.”

“Don't say that. Love is a gift.” Natalie shifted back into the cushions and sipped her tea.

“I know. But I have to be a realist. Luke lives in another part of the country and works in a violent career. I couldn't go through my life waiting for that day when a police officer came knocking on my door to tell me someone I loved had been killed.”

“Right, I forgot about your dad, sorry. Maybe Luke would quit his job.”

“That would never happen. You haven't seen the determined look in his eyes.”

“To protect you.” Natalie yawned. “I'm sorry. My brain needs oxygen,” she joked.

“Go ahead and rest. I'm fine.”

“Just for a second.” Natalie closed her eyes. Krista took the empty teacup from her hand and placed it on the tray.

Krista closed her eyes as well and drifted into a fantasy about Luke being on the police force, attending community events with her, praying with her in church.

If only they'd met under different circumstances, if he weren't a cop and she didn't have such strong ties to Wentworth.

But all the “if onlys” in the world wouldn't change the fact she'd admitted her feelings for him and he kept pushing her away.

It wasn't meant to be.

A door crashed open and Krista sat up.

“Where is she?” a man shouted.

“Why are you here?” Timothy shouted back.

Krista jumped to her feet as Timothy was dragged into the living room…

By two men she recognized. They were the same guys who yelled at her for taking pictures of the children in Mexico.

They shoved Timothy to the floor.

“¡Estupido!”
the curly-haired guy shouted.

The bald guy pulled a gun, pointed it at Timothy and glared at Krista. “Where is it?”

Krista put up her hands. “What, what do you want?” Adrenaline racing through her body, all she could think about was Luke. How much she loved him. How her death would destroy him.

“Tell us or I shoot him!” the bald guy threatened.

“Krista, please!” Timothy croaked.

“You have to tell me what it is you're looking for.”

The bald guy re-aimed his gun at Natalie's sleeping form.

“Krista!” Timothy shouted.

Krista rushed over to shield Natalie's body. “What do you want?”

“Pictures,” the curly-haired guy said. “Where you keep pictures?”

“What pictures?”

“From your Internet site. You took pictures in Mexico. We want them.”

Heart racing, Krista grabbed her purse and dug for her keys. “They're on my keychain.”

“You lie to us!”

“No! They're—” she grabbed them “—here.” She tossed her key chain at the curly-haired guy.

“Show us.” He motioned for Krista to join him in the kitchen. The guy had a laptop set up. Krista put the thumb drive in place and scanned the pictures.

“Good.” He grabbed the thumb drive, then dragged her back into the living room.

This was it. She was going to die.

She kneeled beside Natalie and placed a hand on her back.

“Stand up,” the curly-haired guy ordered Timothy.

Timothy stood and squared off at him.

“Garcia es furioso,”
he said to Timothy. “You finish. We wait outside.”

He handed Timothy the gun.

The floor shifted under Krista's knees with the realization that Timothy was working
with
these men. The two men walked out, leaving Krista, Timothy and Natalie alone. Krista wondered if Timothy had drugged Natalie's tea because he didn't want her to know about his involvement with the drug cartel.

“Timothy?” Krista stood. “What's going on?”

“I'm sorry, Krista. They weren't supposed to come.” He shot her a pleading look. “If only you would have given up the thumb drive.”

“Given it up? I didn't know they wanted it. And you…you're involved in this?”

“I needed the money.”

“That doesn't justify you breaking the law and…and what, you're going to shoot me?”

“I have to. If I don't, they'll kill Natalie. That's why I took her out of the hospital, because I knew they'd come after her!”

“Timothy, take a deep breath. Listen to how absurd this sounds. You're not a killer. How did you get involved in this?”

“It doesn't matter,” he said, clutching the gun.

“It matters to me. My father was killed by a gun and if I'm to die the same way I'd like to know why.”

Every bone in her body told her to keep him talking, in hopes of making an ally out of him.

“Why?” she pushed.

“Natalie deserves things, nice things. A big wedding, honeymoon, a second house up north. I took out a loan from a guy and couldn't pay him back. He had ties to Garcia's organization and made me an offer to clear my debt. They paid me to smuggle a drug concentrate into the country through souvenirs.”

“That's why they broke into Luanne Sparks's car?”

He didn't answer, just stared at the gun in his hand. “All I had to do was get them and hand them off to Garcia's men in Detroit.”

“But I didn't buy any souvenirs,” Krista said.

“No, you took pictures.” He pinned her with empty, dark eyes. “Pictures that exposed Garcia's base of operations.”

“I didn't know that. I took pictures of little kids.”

Timothy sighed and glanced at the couch. “Natalie wants kids.”

“I know.”

He glared at Krista. “But I can't have kids if I'm in prison. I'm sorry, Krista.”

Timothy raised the gun. Krista dropped to her knees and put her hands together.

“Dear Lord, forgive Timothy for his actions. He's lost and needs Your guidance.”

“Stop talking,” Timothy shouted.

“Timothy, put the gun down!” Luke ordered from the doorway.

Surprised, Timothy spun around.

A shot rang out, blasting her eardrums, and Krista hit the floor, body trembling.

“Got him?” Luke said.

“Yeah, I'll call for an ambulance,” the chief answered.

Eyes squeezed tight, Krista struggled to breathe, fear clogging her throat.

She could hear Timothy moaning in pain a few feet away from her, but didn't want to open her eyes.

Natalie's loving fiancé had almost killed her.

“Krista,” Luke said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, it's okay. Open your eyes.”

She did and saw Luke's bright blue eyes staring back at her. Then she caught sight of his gun and thought she might be sick.

A wave of sadness spread across his face as he shoved his gun out of sight. He helped her up and wrapped his arms around her. “It's over, honey. It's all over.”

“Two men…”

“We got 'em.”

“From Mexico.”

“Garcia sent them to destroy the pictures that Timothy couldn't find.”

“Drugs.”

“What about them?” He looked into her eyes.

“Drug concentrate smuggled into the country through souvenirs.”

“We'll get it. We'll shut them down. Come on.” As he led her out of the living room, she glanced at Timothy and a choke-sob caught in her throat. Sadness overwhelmed her for her friend
Nat. How could she ever come to terms with her fiancé being a violent criminal?

Through friends, church and plenty of time. Krista knew how it worked. She'd been there herself.

“I'm going to have Officer Sherman take you home,” Luke said.

“No.” Krista clung to his jacket and looked up into his eyes. “Please, don't go. Luke, I love you.”

TWENTY-ONE

I
t felt like a machete had ripped through his chest.

She loved him. Poor Krista because Luke wasn't worth loving. He wasn't nearly good enough for her.

But as she stood there, pleading green eyes looking up at him, he wanted to surrender, just for a second, and tell her he loved her, too.

It was the truth.

Also true was the fact his life's work was a violent one, and this fragile creature needed someone grounded and safe.

And worthy.

He led her to the patrol car. “Are you up to giving a statement?”

“Stop a second.” She hesitated and looked up at him. “I promised myself if I lived through this that I would tell you how I felt. I just bared my soul to you. Don't you have anything to say?”

He glanced at the patrol car. “Like what?”

“How do you feel about what I said?”

“Sad.”

“Why?” she hushed, squeezing his hand.

“Because I can't give you what you need, Krista. You're confused right now because you've been through a traumatic experience and you almost died and it would have been my fault.”

She framed his face with her warm hands. “I didn't die. You saved me.”

“It's my job. And it's that very job that makes this thing between us impossible.”

“Then get a new one.”

“Krista,” he scolded.

“What? You couldn't join a less dangerous branch of law enforcement?”

“This is what I do.” He opened the patrol car door.

“Because you're paying a penance.”

“Because I'm good at it.”

“I'll bet you're good at a lot of things.”

“Look, I have to stay focused on the case right now.”

She sighed and looked at him with those amazing green eyes. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, Krista, which is why I have to leave.”

 

Krista shifted in the chair beside the chief's desk and signed her statement. It was nearly impossible to hold it together, especially when she knew what was coming next.

Luke loved her.

And he was going to leave.

It made no sense, and her frustration was quickly turning into anger…

…and grief. Gut-wrenching grief that rivaled the pain she felt at the loss of her father.

There had to be something she could do, something she could say to change his mind.

“Hard to believe Timothy was involved in this,” Chief Cunningham said. “He was the one who broke into the tea shop and drove Natalie off the road, thinking it was Krista.”

“He was trying to kill me, even then?” Krista asked.

“No, he was trying to get your purse so he could figure out where you kept the thumb drive. When he went to the car and saw Natalie, he called emergency right away.” Chief Cunningham stood and closed the file. “I wondered how he got to the scene so fast.”

“And the first night in my garage?” Krista asked.

“Timothy. Did a search of your house and came up empty. Figured out you weren't home yet, so he went to the garage to shut off your lights. If Luke hadn't shown up he probably would have…” The chief glanced up. “Well, no reason talking about it. This case is closed.”

“It will be closed once we charge Garcia. Lucky thing Timothy didn't have time to pass off the concentrate to Garcia's men.”

“So, what's next?” the chief asked.

“Since Garcia is an American citizen, we'll get moving on the provisional arrest warrant so they can extradite him back to the States for the murder of my partner.”

“And the manufacturing plant?” the chief pressed.

“We have no jurisdiction in Mexico, but we'll make our request through the Office of International Affairs. Then it's up to the local law enforcement in Mexico to take action.”

“Your work here is done, then.”

“Yes.” He didn't look at Krista. He hadn't made eye contact with her since they arrived at the station. It was like they were strangers, and she was just another witness in a federal drug case.

But she knew better.

“Well, I should let you go, then.”

The chief left his office and shut the door.

“When do you leave?” Krista asked.

“Tonight.”

“So you're running away.”

He snapped his gaze to meet hers. “I'm trying to put criminals behind bars.”

“At the expense of your own life?”

“It's my job.”

“Stop staying that. Your life is worth more than any job.”

“My life is my job which is why anything that happened between us is irrelevant.”

“It's relevant to me.” She stood and reached out, but he stepped away.

“Don't make this harder than it has to be,” he said, glancing down. “I've enjoyed our time together, but it's over.”

“It doesn't have to be.”

“No? How does that look, Krista? Us getting married, you pacing the floors at night waiting for me to come home? Or worse.” He turned his back on her. “Work following me home, some thug figuring out where I live and coming to the house?”

“No, because you'll be in a different line of work.”

“Can't happen.”

“You're using your job to punish yourself for your partner's death. Let it go, Luke. He wouldn't have wanted you to live this way.”

“It's best for everyone.”

“Forgive yourself. God forgives you.”

He glanced into her eyes and for half a second she saw a flash of understanding, maybe even peace.

His cell vibrated and he snapped it from his belt. “Yes, sir?”

As he spoke to, she guessed, his boss, she knew no words would change his mind. She took off her necklace and clutched it in her palm.

She couldn't make him stay with her, forgive himself or allow himself to love her, but she could send a piece of herself with him.

He turned back to her. “Gotta go.”

Don't cry, girl. Don't you dare cry.

“I'm sorry you have to go.” She went to him and hugged him tight, slipping the charm into his jacket pocket. “I will pray for your safety.” She looked up at him. “And your safe return.”

With a sad smile, he kissed her. Soft, sweet and vulnerable. She wanted to hold on, but he gripped her shoulders and broke the kiss.

“Roscoe, I forgot—”

“I've gotten used to him. It's fine.”

“You sure, because I can ask the chief—”

“It's fine.” Having Roscoe around would remind her how much Luke cared for her.

“Take care of yourself,” he said.

“You, too.”

He turned and walked to the door.

“God bless you, Luke McIntyre.”

He hesitated, opened the door and disappeared out of her life.

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