The Past Came Hunting (23 page)

“Forget you,” Bobby mimicked. “You’re ours, Norris. We’re gonna kick your ass.”

The cop flashed his spotlight, the crowd dispersed and the kids held up their hands like nothing was going on.

Luke took advantage of the cop’s presence and slipped back into the theater. He tasted blood and became queasy from the smell of popcorn and hot dogs. Sensing that Bobby and Leo might follow, he bought time, seeking out the farthest men’s room in the complex. Hopefully, if they came looking for him, they’d look in the closer bathrooms first.

Inside his hiding place, Luke’s heart pounded as he struggled to catch his breath. A man eyed him suspiciously before he left, most likely because he caught Luke spitting blood into the sink.

Damn. The old guy would probably report him. Luke couldn’t go crawling home, but he couldn’t handle these two creeps alone, either. He pulled out his cell and surveyed the long list of missed calls.

Along with his mom, Matt had called several times.

Matt
.

Luke texted his friend.
At Tinseltown South. In trouble. Hurry
.

With Mel removing photo albums
from a cedar chest in front of her bed, Joe entered the room he’d envisioned from his den’s picture window. He’d done a remarkable job imagining it in his mind’s eye. A floral patterned window seat complemented a solid maroon bedspread, while plants of all kinds meshed with the décor. Like Mel, the place was feminine and immaculate, and her special scent filled the air.

Unlike Luke’s room, she hadn’t given Joe permission to search her things. As unobtrusively as possible, he clasped his hands behind his back and moved from space to space looking for clues. Hints that could drive a boy away from what Joe had come to believe was a loving home.

Unfortunately, those thoughts emerged from a man besotted. Life lessons as a cop warned that appearances weren’t always what they seemed.

Occasionally, she glanced out the window, then continued slipping photographs out of the albums. When Joe wasn’t focused on her, he concentrated on his surroundings, in particular, a framed charcoal etching of Melanie, Luke and her late husband. As expected, Carl Norris had been a big man. Luke appeared to be no more than five or six in the likeness, but the resemblance to his father was uncanny.

In the lower right hand corner of the sketch, Joe read the initials,
M.N
. Coming around to face her, he asked, “You drew this?”

She nodded. “From a snapshot a friend took of us.”

He shook his head. “Why am I surprised? You’re talented.”

He moved to a group of knickknacks on the dresser, some apparently made when Luke was in elementary school. The keepsakes were similar to those his kids had made for Karen and Joe. Next his gaze meandered to a waste basket a few feet away and a wadded-up piece of trash beside it. In Joe’s cluttered existence, the item would have been easily overlooked. In Mel’s house, it stood out like a chalk outline of a body at a crime scene.

He bent to retrieve it, then glanced up with a smile. “This place is the pits.”

His attempt at humor had no effect on her. Photographs in hand, she strode to him. “I meant to take care of that earlier. Do you think these are enough?”

Disregarding her outstretched palm, Joe unfolded the note. “Does Luke often write you IOUs?”

“What?” She placed the pictures on the dresser, took the message with Luke’s hurried scrawl and studied the content. Obviously onto something Joe wasn’t privy to, Mel opened the top bureau drawer.

She withdrew a bank envelope, then gasped when she opened it.

“Mel?”

“I had sixty dollars in here this morning.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I went to the bank yesterday. Why would Luke write me an IOU for twenty then take the whole thing?”

“Has he ever done this before?” Joe asked.

“Never. He always asks before he takes money.” She rummaged further in the drawer.

When her hand fell upon the Walford’s summons, their gazes collided.

Joe reached around Mel and picked it up. “Was this in the drawer this morning?”

“Yes.” She groaned. “You don’t think...”

“Yeah, I do. Luke needed money. You were in the shower. He writes out an IOU, then discovers his grandparents’ petition.”

“But why not just ask me about it?”

“Who knows what’s going through the kid’s head right now? He’s lost his father. He spotted you with another man.” Joe held up the petition. “Now this.”

“Oh, please. Surely Luke knows I wouldn’t give him up without a fight.”

“Does he?”

She shoved the summons inside and slammed the drawer. “I’ve got to find him.”

Joe caught her arm. “Slow down. Now that we know why, we know how to fix it. I’ll check with Matt to see if he’s had any luck coming up with Luke’s whereabouts.”

“I’ll come with you.”

With Mel leading the way, Joe rushed down the stairs and into the snowy night. As they neared his driveway, light streamed from his open garage. Upon closer inspection, they found Joe’s Crown Victoria parked inside. It was his prized yellow Mustang that was missing.

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Calm down, Joe.”

Inside his son’s room, Joe no longer sat at Matt’s computer. The boy had left in a hurry, leaving his Facebook account logged on. Messages had been flying back and forth regarding her son.

Joe paced the length of the teenager’s lived-in room. Mel sat on his unmade bed, not so much because she was tired, more to stay out of Joe’s angry way.

“Calm down? When I get my hands on that kid― He took my car.” Joe pivoted. “Matt can’t take my car. He’s driving around with a learner’s permit. He doesn’t have a bloody
license
.”

Mel suppressed a smile. An hour earlier it had been Joe telling
her
to calm down. “I’ll bet you ten dollars he went after Luke.”

“I was right next door,” Joe bellowed. “Why the hell didn’t he come get me?”

Mel stood, placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t know. Probably the same reason Luke didn’t ask
me
about the summons. They’re fifteen.”

He glared at her and stormed out of the room. She followed. “Joe? Joe, where are you going?”

He made his way downstairs into the kitchen where he picked up the phone, then punched in several numbers. “Norma, Lt. Crandall. I need to report a BOLO for a 2001 yellow Ford Mustang, license TX3798. Avoid force at all costs,” he said. “Got that?
At all costs
. The car thief’s my son.”

The moment Luke saw
the yellow Mustang pull up to the curb outside Tinseltown, he stopped looking over his shoulder and gulped with relief. He braced for the lecture he was sure to receive, telling himself Lt. Crandall’s reprimand was far better than being beaten to a pulp by Gavin’s goons.

With snow sticking to the ground, Luke pushed through the theater doors, slid into the car, then gave the driver behind the wheel an incredulous look.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, Crandall,” Luke said. “But just what the hell are you doing?”

Matt took his hands off the wheel and held his palms out. “You said hurry. I hurried.”

“When I said that, I meant to get your dad or my mom or a
licensed
driver.” Luke shook his head. “And with it snowing? We are so screwed.”

Matt pulled into the stream of traffic, exiting the theater parking lot. “They can’t kill us both. The way I see it, they’re so mad at you, that when I get you back in one piece, they’ll be so relieved, they won’t even remember I took the car.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “What have you been smokin’?”

Matt laughed. “So who messed up your face, and why’d you ditch practice?”

Leaving none of the events out of his miserable day, Luke told his friend about the summons, his grandparents’ petition for custody and that he’d been so pissed off he’d taken off without thinking things through.

“Can your grandparents do that?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know,” Luke said. “But if they can’t, why didn’t my mom say something? Why keep it from me? Maybe the fact she’s not my real mom gives them some kind of say so.”

Taking his eyes off the road, Matt glanced at him. “That sucks. I guess I don’t have to tell you Coach was pissed.”

“Tell him to get in line.”

“Maybe if you talk to your grandparents, let them know how much you like it here, they’ll reconsider,” Matt said.

“Maybe.”

Matt merged onto I-25 and Luke squinted, blinded by the snow and headlights of oncoming traffic. Tightness lodged in his chest as he blinked back tears. He’d cried at his dad’s funeral, he’d been unable to hold his emotions in check. Those were the feelings overwhelming him now. “Matt?”

“What?”

“What if my mom didn’t say anything because she
wants
me to live with them?”

Obviously uncomfortable with the topic, but too scared to take his eyes off the interstate due to the bad weather and heavier traffic, Matt’s brow furrowed. “That’s crazy, man. She loves you.”

“I always thought so, too, until today,” Luke replied.

A trucker in the left-hand lane whizzed by, his tires sending backsplash onto the windshield. Matt’s fists tightened around the steering wheel. Sensing his friend’s growing agitation, Luke sat up straighter and joined him in watching the road.

Flashing red and blue lights, along with a quick burst of sound, interrupted their intense concentration. From behind them, a patrol car’s loud speaker and a cop’s baritone voice boomed, “Pull over.”

Matt groaned, but immediately obeyed. He veered his father’s Mustang to the northbound shoulder of the interstate. Leaning his head back against the headrest as the cop got out of the patrol car, he said, “Remember when you said we were screwed?”

“Yeah?” Luke replied, as every drop of spit dried from his mouth.

“And I said they can’t kill us both?” Matt asked.

Luke glanced over his shoulder. The cop was heading their way. “I remember that, too.”

“I lied.”

The only thing Mel could think of
to take Joe’s mind off Matt’s astonishing behavior was to remind Joe of his stomach. Near ten p.m., neither of them had eaten since lunch, and her tender, slow-cooked brisket sat cold and ignored.

While waiting for news of the boys, she made coffee and sandwiches. Joe wolfed them down, saying nothing about their taste, then sat staring into his coffee cup.

She left him alone with his thoughts, storing the leftovers in plastic containers.

Oddly, she wasn’t as frantic as she had been in the hours before. Of course, she was desperate for Luke to come home, but a sort of transference had occurred when Joe had become the parent to worry.

One of them had to remain calm.

The food put away, she’d begun to wipe off the counter when Joe’s cell phone rang. The nerves she’d succeeded in calming exploded.

“Crandall,” Joe said. “You did?” Straightening, he kept the phone to his ear, placed his elbows on the table, lowered his head and massaged his right temple. “No. Don’t take them downtown. Bring them to my house. Yeah. Appreciate it. Tell Wilkerson thanks, also. See you in a few minutes.”

Mel turned from the counter, awaiting his explanation.

Joe flipped the phone shut and rose from the table. The weight seemed to fall from his shoulders. His dress shirt was wrinkled, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked tired and yet relieved. “Two patrolmen are on their way. One’s driving my car. The other’s bringing the boys.”

As the air left her lungs, she tossed the dishcloth into the sink. “I’ll get my coat.”

“No. I want you to stay here.”

“I don’t
think
so.”

“You’ll try to baby them, and now’s not the time. They’re in a shitload of trouble and I’m going to make sure they know how deep. More importantly, this all started when Luke saw us together. He doesn’t need any more reminders right now.”

Mel’s first thought was to argue, then to remind Joe that it was his son who took the car, not hers. But that was unfair. Matt had rushed to help his friend. She was forever grateful, and in spite of Joe’s slight to her parenting, he did have a point.

He gathered her against him. “Will you trust me to handle this?”

Reluctantly, she nodded, taking comfort in the security she felt in his arms.

“I’ll send him home as soon as possible.” He set her away from him. “And when I do, Melanie, it’s time. You need to have that talk with him. I mean a
real
discussion.”

She drew an unsteady breath and turned away from him.

“Mel?”

“Of course, I’ll talk to him. Luke needs to know I would never give him up. Never.”

“The fact Walford didn’t approve of his wife’s actions worked in your favor. This time. The truth would be better coming from you.”

Mel lifted her hair and rolled her shoulders. The muscles in her neck bore the tension of the last few days. What was he, a mind reader? She’d been thinking the same thing. What Joe didn’t understand was tonight she’d had a taste of what it would feel like to lose her son. She never wanted to experience anything like it again.

Joe’s eyes narrowed.

She hated the disappointment she read on his face. “Shouldn’t you get going? They should be here any minute.”

He arched a brow and strode from the room.

She saw him out, then slumped to the couch.
You climb so high on that pedestal, it’s gonna hurt like hell when you fall off.
Intrinsically, she knew Joe was right. But the real reason she hadn’t told Luke? She wasn’t ready to fall.

Joe opened the door
to a snowy gust of wind, two defeated teenagers and the two police officers beside them. Gardner and Wilkerson were experts in scenarios like these, escorting kids to their parents, making sure they were aware of how close they’d come to the justice system and juvenile hall. Their faces unsmiling, their bulk magnified by Kevlar vests, the cops maintained the demeanor of granite. “Lt. Crandall, this boy claims to be your son,” Wilkerson said. “The other boy here says he lives next door. Is that correct?”

Joe’s gaze raked over the miscreants. “That’s correct.”

Matt shifted nervously, avoiding Joe’s scrutiny and lifting his eyes to the sky.

“Do you wish to press charges, sir?” Gardner asked, handing Joe back his car keys.

“Not at this time,” Joe said, shoving them in his pant pocket. “By the time I get through with them, they might actually prefer jail.”

At that comment, Luke raised his head. The left side of his face was bruised, his bottom lip puffy and oozing. “It’s my fault, Lt. Crandall. Matt only came because I asked him to.”

“Will there be anything else, Lieutenant?” Wilkerson asked.

“No.” Joe glanced at his watch. “About time for dinner, isn’t it?”

Gardner smiled. “I was just thinking the same thing, sir. Goodnight.”

Joe shut the door and ordered the boys to take a seat on the couch in the den. Acting as judge and jury, Joe explained what their punishment entailed. In slack-jawed amazement, they stared, but knew better than to protest what they obviously construed as a grossly unfair sentence.

“Any questions?” he asked.

Together they replied, “No, sir.”

“Good.” Joe walked to his desk and picked up the cordless phone. He handed it to Luke.

Puzzled, the boy stared at him. “Sir?”

“You need to call your coach. Tell him you’ll be at practice tomorrow.”

Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I―I don’t think I―I―”

“Wait much longer and you’ll be off the team. Is that what you want?”

“But I thought I already was―”

“I think your coach will accept that you had extenuating circumstances. If you can be sure of anything in this world, Luke, it’s that your mother loves you. After you make that phone call, I suggest you go home and give her the chance to explain.”

Luke’s gaze darted to Matt, and for the first time they shared a grin. Joe motioned to Matt and he stood. He placed a hand on the scruff of his son’s neck and said, “What do you say we give him some privacy?”

Matt nodded.

As the two of them exited, Joe closed the door to the den.

Mel resorted to doing what
she always did when she was under stress, working with plants. She headed for the basement. Her Spanish lavender was root-bound and in desperate need of transplant. As she carried it toward the stairs, the lock in the kitchen door turned.

Everything stopped as Luke walked in. Observing his dirty clothes, his battered face, she held back a startled cry, but refrained from voicing concern.

He glanced down at the floor. “Hi, Mom.”

She swallowed hard. “Hi, Luke.”

She placed the plant on the counter and wiped her clammy palms on her jeans. This was the boy she’d raised from infancy, and yet she felt like she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. “Are you hungry?”

His face turned red and he shrugged. “Starving.”

“Would you like to take a shower while I make you something to eat?”

“Aren’t you going to yell or something?”

She took a step forward, then hesitated. “Maybe later, okay?” Then all of her fear and heartbreak swirled into one tumultuous emotion and she walked toward him. Taking the big kid in her arms, she hugged him. He hugged her back, and she whispered, “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I―”

Tears clogged her throat. “Go take that shower. We’ll talk afterward.”

So much for leftovers. Before Luke devoured the remaining portion, Mel took a plate over to Matt. As much as she wanted to stay and thank him for coming to Luke’s rescue, she didn’t have time. She had a mixed-up teen to contend with, and she intended to make things right between them.

A short time later, Luke scrounged around in the refrigerator, “Are there any more sandwiches?”

She smiled and shook her head. Reaching around him, she said, “Sorry. We have chocolate pudding,” then risked mentioning his injury. “It might feel good on that lip.” She handed him the dessert in one of her favorite glass dishes, then removed an ice pack from the freezer. “This might help, too.”