Hidden in Shadows (6 page)

Right. The case. This had nothing to do with Luke wanting to keep her safe because he cared about her. This was all about nailing the bad guy.

She studied his clenched jaw and piercing eyes. “Why is this case so important to you?”

“It's my job.”

“I sense there's more to it.”

He glanced down, as if he didn't want her looking too long into his eyes for fear she'd see something he desperately wanted to keep hidden. “Luke?”

“Garcia killed my partner. In front of me.”

A chill skittered down her arms.

“I'm so sorry.” She reached out and touched his jacket sleeve, a natural, compassionate act. Luke glanced at her hand. She thought he might pull away.

“I've gotta call in.” He stepped back, breaking the connection. “Don't go anywhere without me.” With a nod, he walked out.

More like ran. From her.

Krista sensed he hadn't told many people about his partner, and she suspected Luke blamed himself for his death. But why?

She'd probably never find out. Truly, what mattered most was that he caught Garcia and closed down his business so he couldn't make money off hooking children on drugs.

Krista still couldn't believe the ugliness had permeated the small town of Wentworth. The tourist town of not quite three thousand was known for its vacation activities, access to both White Lake and Lake Michigan and an annual summer festival. She couldn't fathom how crime had edged its way into the safe community.

But after today's break-in, she could no longer hope that her garage attacker was some teenager out for a thrill.

Now Grace's Tea Shop had been broken into, as if someone was looking for something very specific.

“The shop,” she whispered, searching the chair next to her for her purse. She should call the Sass girls and ask if they'd clean up, restock the teas for tomorrow's business.

Nurse Rankin came around the corner with a clipboard in her hand. “Where's the boyfriend?” She winked.

“He's not my boyfriend.”

“He sure acts like it.”

“He's…” She didn't like keeping the truth from people in town, but knew that for Luke to solve the case he had to keep his identity a secret. “He's the protective type.”

“Men only protect women they're interested in, honey. He's cute.”

“I hadn't noticed.”

“Uh-huh.” Ruth placed the clipboard on the bed and pulled the gurney away from the wall.

Ruth wheeled Krista out of the emergency room to the elevator.

“I need to make a call,” Krista said.

“After the scan.” Ruth glanced over her shoulder. “Don't look now, but we're being stalked.”

“What? Who?” Krista leaned up on her elbow and glanced over her shoulder.

Luke walked a couple of feet behind them. He shot her a comforting smile.

“That protective boyfriend of yours isn't letting you out of his sight, is he?” Ruth pushed.

“It's been a wacky twenty-four hours.”

“I heard about the lavender garden sniffer and the Bender kid shooting out your windows.

“He didn't shoot out the windows. Just fired off some rounds, I guess. And tonight someone broke into the shop.”

“What for? Your hazelnut scone recipe?”

“I have no idea.”

“McIntyre,” Luke said.

Ruth glanced over her shoulder. “Sir, you can't use a cell phone—”

“When? How many? Hang on.” Luke rushed past Krista and pointed at the nurse. “Don't let her out of your sight.”

T
wo of Garcia's suspected henchmen were spotted boarding a plane for the States.

Then who the hell broke into the tea shop and attacked Krista?

“Destination?” Luke asked his boss.

“Chicago, so maybe it's not related to your case.”

“Chicago, Detroit, they're equidistant from Wentworth. But I'm afraid someone's already here.”

“Why?”

“In addition to the attack last night, someone broke into the tea shop just now.” Luke glanced across the town square where city workers were putting up Christmas decorations. Krista was attacked, nearly killed, and yet life went on as if nothing had happened.

“You think one of Garcia's men broke into the shop?”

“Can't be sure,” Luke said. “If not, and it's someone from a rival drug organization, it could mean a drug war is brewing.”

“Two rival groups after the same thing. But what?”

“I think her luggage is the key.”

“Still missing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'll put agents in Chicago on alert to find and tail Garcia's men once they land. Is the woman all right?”

“Says she's fine, but they're doing a CT scan to be sure.”

“Ready for backup?” Agent Marks said.

“Not yet. More strangers in town will stir suspicion. I don't want to scare off the local contact. He's our best link.”

“Have you gone through the list of people who went on the mission trip?”

“Was about to when the tea shop was hit.” He'd been going over the list of names with the chief, flagging a few and forwarding them to the office for background checks. Then they got the call that the tea shop had been hit.

“Stick close to the girl. She's our best lead.”

“Yes, sir.”

He pocketed the cell phone and glanced up at the gray sky. It smelled like snow.

He hesitated before going back into the hospital, needing a minute to ground himself. Seeing Krista hurt, lying on the ground, had ripped open the old wounds. She shouldn't have gone to the tea shop, especially without him. What was she thinking?

She thought the girls were having problems setting the alarm and they needed her help.

Krista was always thinking about others, helping others. Knowing this was her M.O., it was Luke's job to put her first, make sure she was safe and protected.

He'd take her home and set the ground rules: He was going to be her handyman whether she liked it or not. He would always be close, within arm's reach when she went into work, to make sure she was safe.

Not an easy assignment for Luke. She was bright and cheerful, even in the face of danger. He suspected she got that energy from God, something Luke had turned his back on years ago. She was lucky to have that kind of faith.

He wasn't sure he knew how to comfort a traumatized Krista, but her faith kept her strong.

“Comfort her? What are you thinking about?” he muttered.

This wasn't about Krista, the woman. It was about Krista, his lead to busting a major drug dealer. Losing his perspective
could get them both hurt, or worse. Garcia showed no mercy when dealing with his enemies. He killed as easily as he ate lunch.

With that thought, he marched back into the clinic to find Krista. He wasn't sure why this woman got to him and he didn't care. He'd fight it, shove the edginess deep down so it wouldn't cloud his goal: nailing Garcia.

And getting out of Wentworth.

 

“I'm really fine,” Krista said, as Luke walked her to his car.

He eyed her with suspicion.

“Okay, so I have a headache.” She pinched her forefinger and thumb together. “A teensy one.”

“You're lucky you only have a minor concussion.”

“I'm lucky you showed up when you did. That's twice now.”

“You're welcome. Just so we're clear, I'm officially taking the job as your handyman and personal bodyguard. No discussion.”

“I'm too tired to argue.”

“Good.” He opened the car door.

“Krista? Krista!” Alan called, rushing across the parking lot.

“Hi, Alan.”

The man ignored Luke and hugged Krista. With a sigh she pressed her cheek against his chest. Luke clenched his jaw.

“I'm fine.” Krista broke the embrace. “I'm really fine.”

“You need to close the shop,” Alan said. “At least until this guy's caught.”

“Absolutely not. If I close for a few days this time of year I might as well close up for good.”

“Is it worth your life?”

“Hey,” Luke warned. “No one's out to kill her.”

Alan turned to Luke. “You don't know that.”

“Who on earth would want to hurt this sweet woman?” Luke let slip.

“I have no idea, but twice in twenty-four hours—”

“Enough. I need to get her home to rest.”

Krista was looking a little pale.

“I'll take her,” Alan said, puffing out his chest.

“I've got it, thanks.”

Alan blocked Luke from Krista. Luke didn't want trouble, although he was tempted to put this guy in a headlock and leave him gasping in the parking lot.

“Look, man,” Luke started. “The chief will have my head if I don't do exactly what he asked. He asked me to see Krista safely home.”

Luke stepped around the guy and opened the car door for Krista.

“Thanks,” Krista said to Alan, then slid into the front seat. Luke shut the door and turned to Alan.

“If you know anything about someone wanting to hurt her, you'd better tell the chief.”

The man's face hardened. “I don't know anything.”

Luke studied the guy, his receding hairline, cold, judgmental eyes and thin lips. He fit way too many criminal profiles for Luke's taste.

“Good night.” With a curt nod, Luke got behind the wheel and pulled out.

Just as he'd suspected, Alan was trying to make Krista nervous with his comment about her choosing between the tea shop and her life. What a ridiculous statement, at least for a local who knew nothing about the possible drug connection to Peace Church. It seemed to Luke that Alan's goal was to frighten Krista into giving up her business, giving up her independence, so she'd be dependent on others. On Alan, perhaps?

Now there's a manipulative way to get the girl of your dreams. Didn't take Luke long to figure out Alan had a major crush on Krista, but it was also obvious that Krista wasn't interested. At least it was obvious to Luke.

“I really appreciate this,” she said.

“What, driving you home?”

“And offering to be my undercover bodyguard.”

“It's nothing.”

“Yeah, you haven't seen my handyman list of chores yet.”

He appreciated her sense of humor when he knew she must still be rattled by tonight's assault.

“As long as you don't ask me to rewire the place. Not so good with electrical.”

“How about hanging Christmas lights? The Christmas tea events start before Thanksgiving. Have to satisfy the tourists who come out here to shop for Christmas.”

“Smart businesswoman.”

“I try.”

“That's why you won't close, even for a few days? We could wrap this thing up and you'd be—”

“I said no to Alan and I've known him for ten years. What makes you think I'm going to change my answer for you?”

“I carry a badge?”

“Not impressed, sorry.” She smiled.

He snapped his gaze from her and stared hard at the tree-lined street ahead. He had to. That adorable smile threatened to make him forget why he was in Wentworth.

“So, what's the deal with Alan?” he said.

“He's a nice guy.”

“But?” Luke pushed.

“But what?”

“It's obvious he likes you, a lot.”

“I know.” She slumped back against the seat.

“But you don't return the feelings. So, what's the problem?” Luke mentally scolded himself. He had no right asking her such a personal question. Yet a part of him wanted to know what qualities a woman like Krista looked for in a man.

“The problem is, I'm an independent woman. I know Alan's type. He'd suffocate me.”

“Ah, the possessive type?”

“Possessive, protective, controlling.”

“Sounds like there's a story there.”

“I don't like to gossip.”

Just as well, Luke didn't want her sharing personal feelings about another man. He shouldn't care.

But he did.

They pulled onto her street and a handful of cars were lined up in front of her house.

“The party's still going?” she said, with a desperate quiver to her voice.

“I doubt it. They're probably hanging around to make sure you're okay.”

He pulled into the driveway and eyed the house. Light spilled out from the windows, giving it a warm and inviting glow. If only the houseful of friends would stay 24/7. The power in numbers would surely keep Krista safe.

But then these locals didn't know about the real danger threatening Krista.

Natalie rushed to the passenger side of the car and yanked open the door. “You're okay, thank God.”

Krista got out of the car and Natalie gave her a hug.

“I'm fine, just a headache,” Krista said.

Just a headache?
He bet her head throbbed like a jackhammer pounding cement. Luke got out of the car and followed the women to the house.

Krista slowed as they approached the back porch. “Who's inside?”

“Timothy, Julie Sass and the girls and Pastor White. They're helping clean up and they wanted to make sure you were okay. Don't worry, they're not staying.”

Krista sighed. “Thanks.”

Natalie led Krista toward the house and Luke hesitated. “Krista?”

She turned to Luke.

“Don't forget, I'm close.” He pointed to the garage.

“You could always come inside and help us clean up,” Natalie said.

But he couldn't, couldn't handle being surrounded by so much love, so much compassion.

“It's okay,” Krista said, touching his coat sleeve. “You've done plenty. Thanks.”

Natalie looped her arm through Krista's and led her up the porch steps. As they opened the back door, cheers echoed from the house.

The door slammed on the welcoming sound, shutting Luke out. Yet he stood there for a few seconds. He wasn't sure why.

“You got work to do.” He went back to the car and got the files. He'd take them up to his room in the garage and get started on identifying connections between mission volunteers and the drug ring.

Working would keep his mind focused and his thoughts off of the beautiful Krista Yates.

 

Krista wasn't sure where she got the energy to open the next day, so she thanked the Lord for the much-needed strength.

She made a pot of coffee at home, threw in a couple of pieces of toast and was ready when Luke knocked at eight. She handed him a mug of coffee and piece of toast with peanut butter.

He was dressed more casually today. He'd traded his dress slacks, collared shirt and tie for jeans, a Chicago Bears sweatshirt over a black T-shirt and gym shoes. He leaned against the counter as he ate, Anastasia weaving between his legs. Luckily Luke wasn't much of a morning person either. Either that or he wasn't sleeping well in her drafty garage.

Guilt snagged her conscience.

“You warm enough up in the attic?” she asked, and took a bite of her toast.

“I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“I can take care of myself, no worries.” He sipped his coffee.

“You're sleeping okay?”

“Not really.”

“Because it's cold?”

“Because I'm worried about you.” He dipped his toast in his coffee. “I've decided to get you a dog.”

“What?”

“A watch dog will alert me if someone's outside.”

“I can't have a dog. Anastasia—”

“I'll keep the dog outside with me.”

“And when you leave?”

“We'll deal with that when the time comes.”

“I don't need a dog.”

“Everybody needs a dog.”

That comment shocked her. Dogs were lovable and loyal and wonderfully innocent. She would have a dog except it would interfere with her travels and long work hours. It just wasn't fair to the pet.

Anastasia, on the other hand, was independent and low maintenance.

“You ready?” he asked, rinsing his plate and mug.

“Yeah.” She grabbed her purse from the counter.

When she turned, he was standing a bit close, looking deeply into her eyes.

“You sure you're up to this?”

He acted like she was about to take the stage in front of a thousand people. He sounded like he really cared about her. She studied his bright blue eyes and caught herself.
Silly girl. He's a cop out to nail a criminal.

“The question is, are you sure you're up to my handyman list?” she shot back.

“Already put tools in the car.”

“All right, then.”

He led her out of the kitchen, triple-checked the lock on the back door, and they took off. When they pulled into the tea shop parking lot she noticed her little Ford Focus parked in the corner. She'd forgotten she'd left it behind last night.

She'd tried to completely forget what happened last night, the shock of the intruder, his hard grip and verbal demand for her purse. But why? She didn't carry more than twenty dollars in there.

It wasn't a random purse snatching and you know it.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke asked, pulling up next to her car.

Great, now the guy could tell when she was sliding into the dark, scary places of her mind?

“Busy day ahead,” she said and got out of the car. She didn't want to talk about any of it anymore: Garcia, the house intruder the other night, the break-in at the shop.