Just a Little Honesty (2 page)

“Luke,” I said, turning back to him. “Maybe he’s right—”

“It’s not happening,” Luke said, standing up. “Chief has orders, and orders must be followed. This isn’t up for discussion; no ifs, ands, or buts. He’s sending you out tonight.”

“That’s not a good enough plan,” I said, refusing to let someone—even a mass murderer—run me out of town. If I knew Matt, Charlie, Derek, and Luke the way I thought I did, I knew they’d protect me to the bitter end (but how could they do that if I fled Oakland?). “Even out there, Luke…I can’t protect myself.”

“You’re not going alone,” he said, looking at me as though he couldn’t believe that I was even humoring Derek’s idea. “Bruno’s taking you on the road until this mess is behind us.”

“Bruno? Why not Charlie?”

“Julie,” Luke said, interrupting me again. “Your uncle needs to be here, serving the people he’s sworn to serve. He can’t go, and he’s not about to send you out there with anyone who isn’t willing to put their life on the line for you. This isn’t about who you want to go with. It’s about keeping your ass out of a body bag, okay? You’re going with Bruno.”

As if on cue, Charlie snuck through the front door without a moment’s notice. No one had heard him pull up—no lights, no sirens, no hustle or bustle. He came in with his eyes fixed firmly on Luke, not daring to let his guard down in front of me. Though he wore a stern expression, I could see the pain dwelling deep in his eyes. He knew as well as I did—as well as Derek and Luke, too—that this was more than just a worrisome problem. Conan Milton’s escape from prison meant my life was seriously on the line, and something had to be done to protect me.

“Trigger,” Charlie said, clearing his throat. “A word?”

Luke looked up and gave Charlie a curt nod. They disappeared into the foyer, leaving Derek and I alone to suffer the silence.

“Julie,” Derek said, taking both of my hands. “I’m not just talking for the sake of hearing my own voice, okay? I’m not trying to be selfish and keep you near—though God knows I want you here—but I truly think Oakland is the safest option. If he’s coming for you….” He dropped his head as if he couldn’t keep pretending. “He knows you’re here, and he’ll know where to find you. If you’re here, Julie, it’ll draw him out much faster than if you’re on the run. If we work together, pull him in, and take him down, this can all be over with tonight. But if you leave, and he finds out, he’ll flee. And God only knows how we’ll find him if he does.”

An unsettling heaviness burrowed deep in my stomach. Before I had time to consider what Derek was asking of me, Charlie and Luke returned to the living room. Their expressions were far from readable, so Derek and I turned and looked between them.

“Well?” I asked.

“It’s time to go,” Charlie said, meeting my stare. “I need you to leave your cellphone, wallet, purse, and anything else that can be used to trace your whereabouts. I want them on the table, and I don’t want a fight from you, Julie. This is a serious matter, and it needs to be
taken
seriously. Do it calmly and quietly, or I’ll do it by force.”

“Charlie,” I said, taking a step closer to him. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. “Stop talking to me like I’m four, okay? I
know
this is a serious situation. You want my phone? There it is. Wallet, purse, book bag—all by the stairs.  I’m not going to fight you on this. I’m not so stubborn that I’m willing to die just to make a point.”

He took a deep breath, seemingly relieved that he wasn’t going to have to tie me down, handcuff me, and throw me in the back of a patrol car.

“Trigger?” he said, turning to Luke. “You know the drill.”

Luke nodded. He emptied his pockets and surrendered his cell phone and wallet to my uncle. In turn, Charlie passed him a thick envelope, a prepaid cell phone, and a set of car keys.

“I’ll leave mine under the seat,” he said to Charlie, and almost incoherently.

Derek and I stared between the two uniformed men.

“What’s going on here?” Derek asked, watching as Charlie collected both my and Luke’s belongings. “I thought
Bruno
was taking her on the road?”

“Bruno’s on special assignment,” Charlie said, obviously in no hurry to explain himself. “She’s going with Trigger.”

“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “I’m telling you guys, you’re going about this all wrong. She—needs—to—stay—here.”

“You seriously wanna fight me on this?” my uncle asked, taking a step toward Derek.

“No sir,” he answered, and he cowered under Charlie’s authority. “All I’m saying is that the best chance you’ll have at catching him is using Julie—”

“As bait?” Luke asked, and his nostrils flared as his chest grew taller.

“You know,” I said. “It’s really not a bad a plan.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Little,” Luke said, turning to me. “You’re not risking your life at the chance that we
might
catch this guy.”

“It could work,” Charlie said, agreeing with Derek, but only for a minute. The look he got from Luke said that he best rethink his last statement—and fast. “It’s too damn risky. I mean, this is Julie we’re talking about—”

“And you’re letting that fact cloud your judgment,” Derek said, not giving up his fight. “You’re too close to this case to see it impartially.” He stood a little taller as if he needed the extra inch to help him get through the rest of his argument. “I know you’d be on board if it was anybody else, so why not now? If she stays—and we can put a halfway decent plan together—you guys can have him back in custody within hours.”

“
Halfway decent
isn’t good enough, Derek,” Luke said, his face growing redder by the second.

“Okay, then here’s a crazy idea,” Derek said, looking at the two men. “Why not let her decide for herself? After all, this is
her
life we’re talking about. She can run—and be on the run for days, weeks, or months—or she can stay, and this can be over with
tonight
.”

The three men took a moment to look between each other, silently agreeing that he was right. This was
my
choice and no one else’s.

But then their heads slowly turned toward me, and Derek asked, “well, what’ll it be?”

CHAPTER TWO

Friday, April 05 | 7:35 p.m.

I buckled my seatbelt and turned back to face the windshield. As much as I hated leaving Derek and Charlie behind, I knew that my safest bet was leaving Oakland with Luke. Though I knew it would be an incredible feat to make it through any extended amount of time alone with him, I also knew that he had an uncompromising passion toward ensuring my safety.

I couldn’t put a smile on my face and pretend that my decision had been an easy one; I didn’t like the idea of going with him, but I didn’t feel as if I had much of a choice if I wanted to live through the next few days.

We only drove for a few minutes before Luke stopped off to feed the meter in the Oakland historic district. I kept my butt planted firmly in the passenger’s seat, but he dropped his face in the window and shook his head.

“You can’t stay out here,” he said, nodding up at the building. “You have to come in with me.”

“In there?” I asked, staring up at the building. “To your apartment?”

“Julie,” he said, and his gentle tone wasn’t the least bit forced. “I only found out ten minutes ago that I’m leaving on this trip with you. I need to pack a bag.”

“Then pack.”

“You’re not staying out here alone,” he said, opening the door. “Come on.”

I watched him bite back his frustration; to spare us from a premature argument about something completely avoidable, I stepped out onto the sidewalk. I knew I’d probably need all of my fighting energy later (for when Luke
really
pushed my buttons). I didn’t want to waste time and energy where it wasn’t necessary.

I watched Luke’s backside as I followed him in the building and up the flight of stairs. I let my eyes wander beyond the body in front of me to study the common area. It was an old, brick structure, but the age had no bearing on the interior concept. It was clean, modern, and very well-kept.

It was no surprise when it dawned on me that it was the first time I’d ever been in Luke’s apartment building—let alone climbing the stairs to his bachelor pad. Though there’d been that whole four-week period back in January when Luke and I had technically been a couple, he’d been so busy with work and family that we hadn’t spent much time together. During the time we
were
together, he was almost always at work, just off of work, or dealing with something directly pertaining to work. I’d rarely seen him in a casual capacity.

He was fumbling in his pocket for his keys as we climbed the few steps to the second floor. He stopped off at a door marked B2 and inserted the key into the lock. Unlocking the deadbolt, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He stopped short in the doorway to pull his shoes off, putting them aside before he even took a step into the apartment. Not needing instruction—which was good because he didn’t give me any—I did exactly as he’d done and removed my shoes as I followed him in.

“Give me five minutes,” he said, not inviting me to make myself comfortable or at home. He moved across the open living room and disappeared down the hall.

I stood in place—no more than a few steps into his house—and took a minute to let my eyes sweep the perimeter. I knew for certain that Luke had lived there for at least six months—but if he’d lived there any longer, it was impossible to tell. His place looked nothing like a home but more like a showroom model. There wasn’t a single thing out of place as far as the eye could see.

The stack of magazines on his living room end table wasn’t at all disheveled, but stacked neatly edge to edge. The blinds on the window hung at a perfect line, not even the slightest bit off kilter. His curtains—I took a minute to snicker about the fact that Luke (of all people!) had curtains—were hung in perfect symmetry.

Things only seemed odder the more I poked around.

The tidy living room had done nothing to prepare me for what I found in the kitchen. The hardwood floors looked as if they’d never been walked on. There wasn’t a cup, bowl, plate, or even spoon resting at the bottom of his sink. Heck, there wasn’t even a watermark. The trashcan was empty of everything except a white trash bag, and even that seemed a little odd. To boot, all of the appliances were stainless steel, but there wasn’t a single finger print on any of them. Luke’s kitchen gave a whole new meaning to the word
clean
.

I walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door—nosy, I know, but what can I say?—and had to hold back a sigh as I gazed over the contents of each shelf. Everything was just as orderly there; all of his food was labeled, stacked, and organized by food group (and sealed in glass containers). I slowly shut the door and shook it off, only
totally
psyched out by the fact that Luke was strangely and compulsively organized.

I slowly meandered back into the living room, taking a seat on the edge of the couch as I waited for Luke to return.

In the few minutes that went by, I only noticed more and more things that made me question how well I really knew the man I’d once called my own. The two television remotes (one labeled TV, the other labeled CABLE) rested perfectly vertical and side-by-side on the coffee table; the books on his shelf were alphabetically ordered from left to right, and there didn’t seem to be a speck of dust anywhere in sight.

“You ready?” he asked, returning to the room exactly five minutes after he’d disappeared. Out of uniform and dressed in street clothes, he had the handle of a wheeled suitcase in hand and a brown bag slung over his shoulder. “We should hit the road.”

“Yeah, right,” I said, patting my knees before standing.

As we stopped outside the door to put our shoes on, I glanced around the apartment and then back to Luke.

“I like your place,” I said, watching him tie his shoes. He didn’t look up, or even acknowledge that I’d said anything. “It’s very… clean.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, standing straight again. It didn’t seem to faze him that I’d just commented on his home. He simply brushed it off and met my stare. “Let’s go.”

After we were out of the apartment, the door was locked, and we were back in the car, he hadn’t said another word. I should’ve known that riding shotgun to Luke would be as uneventful as the days I tagged along with him on patrol.

He drove only a few miles out of town before pulling off into a dirt siding and stopping short of a black BMW Convertible.

“Let’s go,” he said, putting his car in park, killing the engine, and stepping out once again.

“Let’s go where?” I asked, hanging my head out the window. But he’d already disappeared to the back of the car and started unloading our bags from the trunk.

“Move it, Little,” he said, slamming the trunk closed. “Time is of the essence.”

Not having the slightest clue what he was up to, I got out of the car and helped him carry the bags and suitcases to the back of the BMW.

“We need to do what we can to throw anyone and everyone off our trail,” he said, placing his suitcase in the trunk of the sports car. “One thing that’s going to keep us off the radar is an unmarked, unsuspecting vehicle.”

“And exactly how far is this fancy pants car gonna take us?”  I asked. I was unable to fathom being alone with Luke in such close quarters…especially for any extended period of time.

“Wish I could tell you,” he said, but he shrugged. “But my orders are only to drive you so far and then wait for more orders.  I only know as far as Stop One. After that, well….” He took a deep breath and slammed the trunk closed. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

I looked back at his car and then to him. “We’re just leaving your car here?”

“Charlie’ll take care of it,” he said, confident that he had nothing to worry about. “It’s imperative that we leave all traceable belongings behind. We’re taking as many precautions as possible.”

In the new car and heading down the road, Luke was quiet as ever. It was only when he had something to say about traffic, or something directly pertaining to our orders that he’d said anything at all. But the hum of the radio playing quietly in the background didn’t satisfy my need for interaction. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat so quietly for so long.