The Past Came Hunting (6 page)

Chapter Seven

With exactly seven minutes to get to practice, Luke leaned his crutches against an adjacent locker, then balancing on one foot, twirled his locker combination and yanked on the flimsy metal door. He lifted his hoodie off the loop, grabbed his English lit and crammed his Geometry text back inside. Technically, he could slack off because he was injured, but he wasn’t about to be late. Luke might not be on the court today, but he planned to
own
it in the near future.

Through the double door windows at the end of the hallway, he saw it had started to snow and he groaned. Maneuvering on crutches had turned out to be a royal pain. That and English lit class. Holy snap, Mrs. Carson had it out for him. The woman had to be some kind of evil teacher
spy
. How else could she know when Luke was caught up in his other courses? And why had she made it her goal in life to load him up with even more? Add basketball to his schedule and he could forget about free time.

And adults thought they
had it rough.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he swatted at it. When it happened again, he knew it wasn’t something, but some
body
. Expecting one of his teammates, Luke pivoted to tackle the freak, and
whoa!
He caught his breath.

The body behind Luke wasn’t a freak. She was a girl―a very
cute
girl.

She wore a heavy coat, but there was no missing the curves in her legs. Luke swallowed hard.
Nice long legs.

“Nice to meet you, Luke Norris,” she said, eyeing his crutches and tossing her straight blond hair over her shoulder. “I’m Jen. I’ve seen you practicing. Just wanted to stop by and tell you it sucks about your ankle.”

Luke managed to say thanks without his voice cracking.

“Mind if I ask you a question?”

Too tongue-tied to answer, he simply stared at her and nodded.

Her brows drew together and her mouth twisted into a frown. “Did you get held back? I mean, you’re kind of big for a sophomore.”

Nice of her to stop by and call me a loser
. Luke slammed his locker and reached for his sticks. “No, I’m just... Look, I gotta get to practice.”

“I know. I’m on the cheerleading squad, and we’re practicing in the auxiliary gym.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry if I embarrassed you. But by the way you play, my friends and I thought you were older.”

Luke didn’t need a mirror to know that his face had turned beet red, one of the side effects of being so pale. Way to stress to impress, when his complexion gave him away faster than a road flare.

“So,” she said, “want to walk over to the gym with me?”

She wanted to walk with
him
? Luke wanted to say,
who wouldn’t?
But it was as if when he’d slammed his locker, he’d forgotten his tongue inside. When he didn’t answer, it was Jen’s turn to turn red. She stepped back. “Oh, I get it. You’re going out with someone.”

Luke all but choked.
Going out with someone
? “No! I mean, I’m
not
. I mean, sure, I’ll walk with you.”

“Sweet,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Luke slid his arms through the straps of his backpack, then with Jen walking beside him, he hobbled ahead of her to get the door. Now might be a great time to show her he could complete a sentence. “So, uh, is this your first year cheerleading?”

As they stepped outside, fresh, powdery snow stuck to everything, including her pretty face.
Sheesh, stop gawking, Norris
.

Wiping snowflakes away, Jen laughed and smiled back at him. “No, I’ve been at it for a while. This is my senior year.”

Mel swung her Corolla
into a parking space, switched off the radio and took her anger out on the unseen broadcaster. The wisecracking jerk had been right about one thing. The blizzard meteorologists had predicted would miss El Paso County had settled in like an uninvited guest with no plans to leave. As temperatures dropped and the streets turned to ice, Mel endured a storm of her own. She entered the lobby of the Police Operations Center, brushed off her coat, stomped her feet and shoved the wet hair out of her eyes.

With cars drifting into snow banks, she had no business being anywhere but at home. Unfortunately, Lt. Crandall had made her his business, and like the frost adhering to the windows, fury gripped her soul.

Simon had told Joe
everything
. For long moments afterward, Mel had held her breath and felt the blood rushing through her ears as the warden related his morning discussion with her next door nemesis.

“Under the circumstances, I thought he should know,” Simon had said after apologizing profusely at what Mel perceived as a gross betrayal. “He appears to be a decent guy, Melanie, and having a cop for a neighbor might be just what you need.”

Lt. Crandall was the last thing she needed and she intended to tell him so. Too angry to be nervous, she’d barged into the operations center without thinking things through. Yet, as armed men and women wearing badges sauntered past, she felt her fifteen-year-old humiliation to the core.

“Ma’am, have you been helped?”

She pivoted to find a uniformed officer whose badge read, C. Sandoval, addressing her.

A youthful face belied his age, but the gray at his temples and the three stripes on his sleeve promised he wasn’t a rookie.

“I’m here to see Lt. Crandall.” As she spoke, the words came out a dry, strangled rasp. Mel cleared her throat.

The man who’d intruded on her deepest, darkest secrets chose that moment to appear. Mel drew her hands into fists inside her coat pockets. Looking every inch the professional and in charge, he wore a long-sleeved white cotton shirt and tailored black pants. And as gold reflected off the badge on his belt, she wasn’t sure what was more intimidating, the breadth of his shoulders or the gun tucked in his holster.

Concern etched his features as he strode toward her. “The city’s on accident alert, Mrs. Norris. What are you doing here?”

What am I doing here
? Mel wanted to scream, “
You idiot
,” but the insult lodged in her throat. The man had breached his authority, invaded her privacy. How dare he act as if he didn’t know why she was here, or worse, that she was wrong to confront him?

He nodded to the sergeant who with one glance made a silent exit.

“You heard from Warden Rivers,” Joe said.

“Are you surprised? Not only was he my husband’s boss, he’s a close personal friend.”

Joe shook his head. “I wanted to tell you myself, that’s all. C’mon. Let’s talk.”

Once again, he was giving her orders. Even so, she could hardly tell him what she thought of him in the lobby. Struggling with how she
really
wanted to handle the situation, she followed.

Stonily, Mel waited while he used an access card to open the steel door he’d just come through. She walked beside him, passing cubicles of law enforcement personnel until they came to a small office at the far side of the corridor.

He stood aside for her to enter, then pointed to a chair. “Would you like to sit down?”

She glanced toward the window. Outside, the snow continued to fall and she knew a moment’s panic. She had a couple of hours before she had to pick up Luke, but if the coach cancelled practice, what then? “No. What I have to say won’t take long.”

“Fine. But I’m going to. I’ve had a long day.” He sat in the chair behind his desk.

Mel met his stare with an equal challenge. “I should say. Looking into my past so
thoroughly
must take a lot out of a man.”

“You’re angry.”

“Furious.”

“You have every right to be.” His matter-of-fact tone set her teeth on edge, her heart to pounding, enraging her further.

“I told you my past was none of your business. If I alerted your supervisor―”

“You’d have my badge.”

Mel opened her mouth, but words failed her. She hadn’t considered how deeply the ramifications of his conduct ran.

“My guess is my commander’s in his office. If you like, we can go see him now.”

“Your career means so little to you?”

The lieutenant rose from the chair and walked to the door. “On the contrary, my career means everything. My son means more. You wouldn’t answer my questions. I had to know.” He extended his arm. “Shall we?”

When she made no move to accompany him, he said, “I’m busy, Mrs. Norris. It’s treacherous outside. You should get home. What’s it going to be?”

Shooting him was out of the question. Suddenly, all she wanted to be was gone. She brushed by him. “Keep your job, you pompous jerk. But I warn you, stay the hell out of my personal business.”

“And if your boyfriend shows up, should I look the other way?”

Mel gasped. The cop was beyond cruel. He played on her deepest fear. “In fifteen years you haven’t changed. You’re still one mean son of a bitch.”

Lt. Crandall moved so close she could smell his aftershave, glimpse the muscle ticking in his jaw and the makings of a five o’clock shadow.

She wasn’t about to retreat.

“Maybe so, Melanie. But if Drake Maxwell gets wind of your location, I’ll be the best friend you’ve got.”

Feeling like he’d butchered
Mary’s little lamb, Joe escorted Melanie out of the building. When she’d stared up at him with huge, fear-filled eyes, he’d wanted to pull her close and kiss her senseless.

No one deserved to be that afraid. So what had he done? Terrified her even more by reminding her of Drake Maxwell’s impending release from prison.

Joe watched for a moment as she cleared the snow off her car, then ordered patrol to make sure she got home. He would’ve offered to drive her, but figured she’d sooner scratch his eyes out than be anywhere in his vicinity. He did manage one compromise before she left. He insisted on picking up the boys from practice. With Luke’s bum ankle, and in this weather, no way could the slender Melanie Norris maneuver someone of Luke’s stature into her car.

Looking back, Joe should’ve seen that the kid didn’t resemble her in the slightest. Fair skinned and blond, Luke was far different from his stepmother’s auburn hair and golden coloring. When Luke grew to be a man, he’d bear the physique of a Viking warrior.

What was it about her that brought out the antagonistic asshole inside Joe? She had every right to demand an apology. He had indeed crossed a line by going to such lengths to discover her past.

Melanie deserved better from him.

Simon Rivers had explained that for years Maxwell had touted his plans for revenge to anyone who would listen. Then, in the last few years, he’d grown moody and silent. When asked about the change, he’d shrug, claim some ridiculous notion like he’d found Jesus, or that he’d put Melanie Daniels behind him.

Not many in positions of authority bought the convict’s story, and because of Melanie’s marriage to Carl Norris, she now fell under the protection of the Department of Corrections. Before Carl had died, he’d asked the warden to look out for his family, to protect Melanie from the man who’d threatened her life.

Simon Rivers had been the idea man behind the Norris’s move to Colorado Springs. The Springs, he’d explained, was close enough that if Melanie needed him, he could get to her, and, ideally, the last place Maxwell would look since it was where the crime had been committed.

Because Melanie had taken her husband’s last name, the plan was secret, furtive and logical. With only one hitch, Simon never thought to check out the neighbors.

Joe secured his weapon, then reached for his trench coat. With snow falling and an apology due, a long night lay ahead of him. Exactly how did one apologize to the woman he’d sent to prison, who’d then turned her life around and moved in next door? This was a new one for the manuals, one that would never be found in print. Joe shrugged into his coat and grimaced. For one thing, no one would ever, ever believe it.

Mel shoved boxes aside,
the single-car garage she used for storage a combination of clutter, cobwebs and dust. Surveying the area, she paused to rub her arms to ward off the chill in the non-insulated space. She should’ve rented a storage unit, but with plans to sell the majority of items come spring, she’d chosen to keep the stuff nearby.

When she caught sight of the box she wanted, dread filled her. Years had passed since Carl had packed it away. In an old microwave container, it sat harmless. Once removed however, whether she used it or not, Mel could be opening the proverbial Pandora’s Box. Steeling her disenfranchised nerves, she wrapped her arms around an old microwave box marked with her husband’s name, then backtracked through the maze she’d created and hurried into the kitchen.

What a fool she’d been. Simon had assured her that in Colorado Springs she and Luke would make a new start; that Drake Maxwell had recanted on his plans for revenge. So, if that were true, why had Lt. Crandall brought up the subject, and why had Simon been adamant that she and Luke keep a low profile?