Lucifer's Lover (23 page)

“Not in this day and age. Motherhood is going to be part of your choice, obviously but there’s so many other choices to be made to go along with it.”

He sipped the champagne. “So what’s your definition of family? You lay that equation out, Linny and you’ll be able to extrapolate the rest of the answers.”

“And what if I want Luke as part of that equation? He doesn’t want me. Not really.”

“Are you sure? Did you really give him a chance to decide? Or had you already decided for him?” Edward smiled a little and the gentle man from the workshop was back. “I know what you’re like, sweetheart. You can be a bit of a steamroller when your mind is made up. That’s why I haven’t tried to give you this lecture before now. Your mind has been made up pretty much for the last ten years now.”

“Are you saying I pushed him away?”

“No. Are you?”

She bit her lip, trying to remember the things they had said to each other, that last time. All she could remember was the bitterness she’d felt when he had hesitated.

Bitterness…and a sense of inevitability.

Wasn’t it that she had been fully expecting him to shy like that? She had almost anticipated it, planned around it.

“Damn,” she murmured.

Edward patted her hand again, sympathetically.

“Family is the most blessed gift an individual could have and if your Luke doesn’t want it, it’s because he hasn’t learned that he needs the cement that holds a family together—any sort of family, no matter how it’s built.”

“Cement?”

Edward shrugged. “Love, of course.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“No?”

“He never said he did.”

Edward just looked at her, patiently, his eyes not letting her go.

She had to break the gaze.

“So what are you going to do now, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

She sighed. “Think, I guess.”

“Think hard,” he advised. “You’re only going to get this one chance, now.”

“I don’t know that I have even one chance, Daddy. He hasn’t rung, or been to see me…”

“You sent him away. He’s not going to come back easily. If you truly want him in your life, on whatever terms you want and whatever terms he wants, then you’re going to have to do some very hard bargaining indeed.” He stood up. “But do the thinking first, Linny. Get it straight in your own mind before you try to lay it out for him. Because when you see him, you’ll mess it up if you haven’t got it down pat.”

“Is that what happened to you? With Mom?” she asked, curiously.

“Every time.” He sighed. “
Every
time. She made me feel like an elementary school kid, all knees and stutters. Asking her to marry me took more courage than I’ve ever had to use since. I still don’t know how I managed to get the words out and I still don’t know what made her say yes.” He shrugged. “I always thought she deserved so much more than me and my paltry offerings.”

Lindsay grew very still, her father’s words echoing and chiming, connecting and growing. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes. That’s it. It’s something like that.”

“What is?”

She stood up and kissed his thin spot. “You’ve just given me more to think about..”

He smiled again. “Good. I’m glad. It’s about time you indulged in some clear thinking.”

She went to bed, knowing sleep would be an absent friend tonight. Her father’s words were circling through her mind.

I always thought he deserved better than me.

But it was her voice whispering them.

* * * * *

When the phone rang the Wednesday after New Year’s Eve, Lindsay gave a little start.
Luke. It’s Luke.

Her certainty was so strong that she found herself running for the phone and snatching it up breathlessly before her father, who was sitting next to it, could so much as reach out his hand.

“Lindsay Eden speaking.” She still was using her office manner despite being officially unemployed for nearly two weeks. But then, the phone hadn’t rung all too often since then. And none of the callers had been Luke.

“Hi, Lindsay.” The male voice wasn’t Luke’s.

“Hi.” She frowned. “Who is this?”

“It’s Doug Anderson, Lindsay. How are you?”

“Just fine, thank you.” She was pleased at the breezy tone that emerged, despite the little spurt of anger that shot through her. Well, she certainly didn’t have to suffer the formalities for him, anyway. “How can I help you?”
Cut to the chase, Doug, I don’t have to give you my time any more
.

“Uh…well… Let me see. It’s about Luke Pierse.”

“What about him?” Her tone was a little sharper than she intended.

“It’s come to my attention that you…ah…enjoyed something more than a working relationship with him…and, well, don’t get me wrong—I’m not calling about that precisely…but I thought…”

She could hear his labored silence and sensed he was deeply embarrassed by the subject.

Something important had forced him to call despite his reluctance.

The realization gave Lindsay the necessary patience to wait him out silently.

“I thought you might know where he is,” Doug finished quickly, pushing it out in a fast breath.

She frowned. “If he’s not at the office, he must be out on an appointment. Really, Doug, I think you’ve got the wrong impression about the relationship between Luke and me. I don’t know his movements from day to day. I haven’t spoken to him in over a week.”

Not since Christmas Eve, when you fired me.

“Oh.” He seemed almost downcast by her answer.

“Doesn’t Timothy keep his diary? He must know where he is.”

“It’s not quite like that,” Doug responded and he sounded almost apologetic. “He’s gone missing.”

“Missing? What does that mean?” Her voice was rising, despite her control.

“It means, for over a week now he hasn’t shown up for work.”

The pulse in her temple began to pound heavily, hurting. “Have you rung him at home?”

“Of course. I got Timothy to call around at the apartment. No answer.”

“He could be out. He works at a project over on the east side—”

“I tried calling at midnight one night. I figured risking getting yelled at for waking him was justified but there was no answer.”

She was getting a massive headache. She pushed at her temple. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve done in a week? Just phone and call around?”

“Well, I called you,” Doug said, laughing a little.

“Doug, most people are officially listed as missing after twenty-four hours and you let it go for a
week
? What are you? Inhuman?”

“He’s a grown man, Lindsay. You want me to add him to the list of homeless kiddies?”

Why not? He is one
. The voice spoke with acrid sourness in her mind.

“What if he needs help, Doug? You know he has no family here. You’re in a privileged position and you’ve sat on your thumb for a week. More than a week!”

“Luke need help? That man has more lives than the devil himself. He’ll probably turn up in a couple of days time with a massive hangover and a few more stories to tell. He’s causing us a hell of a problem here, let me tell you. It’s very irresponsible of him to just take a dive like this. I’m concerned, yes but I have to think about the hotel. Right now, that’s my major concern.”

“Your major concern?” Lindsay forced her lungs to work, to draw breath. “Doug, you’re a complete, utter idiot. You make me sick.”

She slammed the phone down, wishing it was Doug’s head she was dumping it on.

Edward looked up from the paperback in his hands. “Doug is the new hotel manager, isn’t he?”

She nodded and walked toward the French doors, trying to think past the heavy beat of her heart and the buzzing in her mind.

“Lindsay?” Edward’s voice pulled her around to face him.

“Luke’s missing, Dad. He’s been gone a week or more. And those…those…imbeciles didn’t even have the commonsense to send up any sort of alarm. They only phoned me because their marketing department is grinding to a halt and they don’t like it.
Men!
”

“Where do you think Luke is, then?”

“That’s easy.” She shrugged. “New York.”

“Where in New York? It’s a big place.”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “But I’m going to find out.” She headed for her car keys.

“And when you find out?” her father called after her.

She didn’t answer, because she had no proper answer to give. There were so many factors involved, least of all Luke’s mysterious life in New York. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest easily until she had found him and assured herself he was alright, for she had a niggling fear that perhaps it was her fault he’d skipped to New York. With the hotel ready to lynch him, her guilt was doubled.

It wouldn’t do for her to get him fired, as well.

So, she had to find him. She just had no idea what she was going to do when she did find him.

* * * * *

Luke’s apartment was dim and silent. And very empty.

She checked the milk in the fridge. Sour to the point of solidness and she hastily pushed the carton away from her nose. Her stomach was queasy enough these days.

The milk confirmed her guess. Luke had been gone for days, at least.

She looked around the apartment, looking for clues. Everything was as neat and tidy, as unlived-in, as usual. There were no hasty signs of decamping, no open drawers that might have hinted at hurried packing.

But then, she’d seen Luke step on the plane to New York with no luggage at all and return the next Monday in a different suit and clean shirt. That had been one of the details that had let her think he had an apartment in New York, still.

But Luke was human and had to operate in a culture that documented
everything.
He couldn’t move without generating a paper trail of some sort, even in sleepy Deerfoot Falls.

She dropped her keys on the table and headed for the bureau next to his bed and opened the first drawer. Socks, ties and a small velvet box that opened to reveal male jewelry—cuff links, tie pins and even a set of old-fashioned shirt collar studs.

It was strangely intimate, fingering through someone else’s possessions when they were not present.

She shut the box with a snap, guilt slicing through her and turned to the next drawer with a deep breath. There was obviously no paperwork in the first drawer. She had to stay focused. She needed a clue to start looking for him.

She needed a place to start finding out about the real Lucifer Furey Pierse.

Chapter Fifteen

Manhattan looked as glittery and intimidating as she remembered it, even from this distance.

Lindsay stood at the foot of a long, uneven row of headstones. Far away the spires and towers of Manhattan punched into a dark gray sky. From here, she could only see a slip of water. A cold, biting wind whipped around the headstones before her, making her eyes tear and her ears ache.

The headstones were endless, marching down the shallow bowl before her and up the other side of the hill to crown the top in a gapped-toothed row.

In the middle of the dip in the land a group of people huddled around an open grave. The grave was the reason she was here. This was where Luke’s trail had ended.

She pulled her coat around her more firmly. She was reluctant to walk down the slope to the grave. She didn’t want to face this. She didn’t want to have to deal with it.

The knot of people was slowly breaking up and they began moving away. Some followed the path that Lindsay stood on and they would eventually pass her.

Time to move.

She walked down the slope as quickly as she could manage, fighting the cold with movement. Couples and individuals passed her, barely looking up from their preoccupation and their downcast stare at their feet.

There was only one mourner left at the graveside by the time she reached it. He didn’t move or show any sign of noticing her.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” she offered.

He did look up then and his only sign of surprise was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

She was shocked at his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot and tiredness seemed to drag at them. His chin was unshaven and his hair, usually immaculate, was wind-blown and unruly.

“I supposed I should say something like ‘What on earth are you doing here?’, or ‘how did you find me,’ shouldn’t I?” Even his voice was low, rough.

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t. Your appearance here is inevitable. You wound your way into the rest of my life. You might as well leave your brand on this side of it too.” He sighed.

She swallowed back the fear his harsh analysis provoked. He was talking like a man with nothing to lose.

She glanced at the new headstone.

Stella Pierse Parker.