Just a Little Surprise (2 page)

He
refused to explain himself, especially to Matt. He said if I wanted to know the real story, I had to be patient… and
I’d
have to hear it for myself. He said that it was his life, his decision whether or not he would share anything, and
he
would let me know when
he
believed I was ready. Furthermore, he stressed that he wasn’t about to let Matt operate as a middle man.
That
pretty much ended any hope of me finding out exactly what kind of relationship Luke had with Rebecca; I wasn’t about to go begging for answers (no matter how much I wanted them!).

He’d hurt me, and
the more I crawled back to him, the more he’d continue hurting me. And as much as I wanted to lie to myself and say that I was over it, I wasn’t. I was mad; I was aggravated beyond the point of comprehension that Luke didn’t have the nerve to come to me with the truth.  I’d never thought of myself as a person who deserved much, but I knew I deserved something more than what he was giving me. I thought the fact that I’d been his girlfriend merited me some kind of right to know what was going on in his life. But apparently he didn’t see things the same way.

I was through trying to understand
.

As I turned the corner to take the short stretch of sidewalk home, my cell rang. No doubt it was
him
, but I pulled the phone from my pocket and answered anyway.

“Luke, leave—me—alone
—”

“Julie?”

But the voice wasn’t his. It belonged to someone else I loved dearly, someone who’d proven time and time again how much my happiness meant to him.

“Bruno,” I said, dropping my head. “Sorry, I thought
—”

“Listen,
” he said, cutting me off. “I’ve got news… something I should probably share.”

“Okay?”

“Are you home?”

“
About two minutes out—”

“I’m going to swing by
,” he said, letting go of a heavy sigh. “I’d rather do this face-to-face—”

“What’s going on
? You sound flustered—”

“
Let’s not do this over the phone, Julie. I’ll be at the house in ten minutes. We’ll talk then.”

Tuesday, March 05

“
Let me get this straight,” I said, praying that the sinking feeling in my stomach would subside. I gripped the results of the DNA test between my fingers and read the papers again. “Their genes
match
?”

“
The kid and Luke, yes. Less than a quarter, but a match nonetheless,” Bruno said, sliding off his barstool. He paced the kitchen floor as I shut the folder, opened it, and then shut it again.

“Do you mind telling me how you happened across these results?”

Bruno took a large gulp from his coffee mug. From the dark circles under his eyes to the lines inset in his forehead, it looked like his caffeine jolt wasn’t doing much to keep him awake. He pinched the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand. “I’ve lost weeks of sleep over this, Julie. I’ve had a hunch; since the day they came into the diner together, something hasn’t felt right. My gut’s telling me something, but I’ll be damned if I believe it before I have any proof.”

“Proof of what?”
I asked, eyeing him a little closer.

“Hi
s tie to Rebecca,” he said. “To the kid.”

“And?”

“I’ve watched him ‘round the clock,” he said. “I’ve listened in on all of his conversations. I’ve kept a close eye on all of his interactions, especially ones with Rebecca. But I kept coming up empty-handed.”

“So
you
were spying on Luke?” I asked, trying to not to smile at the irony. Just weeks ago, Bruno was breathing down
my
neck about the consequences of spying on the people you love. And now here he was— looking as though he’d lost more than just a few nights of sleep— telling me that he’d done exactly what he’d warned me away from doing.

“
Damn straight. Luke, Rebecca, the kid… anyone who might have the slightest insight on what’s going on.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, Miss Julie, I adore you,” he said. “And I promised you that there was more going on than what we saw on the surface. I’m going to prove that… for your sake and my own.”

“Losing your sanity?”

“And too much sleep,” he said, brushing past the topic as though it was the last thing he wanted to discuss. “There’s something here that we’re not seeing, but I think I’m on the right track. I’ve got some guys doing some background research as we speak. I’m fairly certain we’ll have an answer by week’s end. I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I will.”

I gave Bruno a twisted smile and shook my head.

“What?”

“I thought you trusted Luke,” I said. “I thought you had a million reasons to believe he was trustworthy, honorable, worthy of a world of respect.”

“Things change,” he said, shrugging.

“So it seem
s,” I said, leaning over the center island. “But you didn’t answer my question earlier.” He raised his brow as if he didn’t remember what I’d asked. I lifted the folder that held the DNA results. “How’d you get this?”

“
Oh, Luke was easy,” he said. “Saliva from his coffee mug in the break room.”

“And the girl?”

“Molly,” he said. “You’ve seen her, right? She’s a short little booger—bright blue eyes, dimpled cheeks, bouncing blonde curls. You couldn’t mistake that hair for anyone else’s.”

“True.”

“And I saw one of those stray curls clinging to her mother’s coat at the flower shop. Snatched it up, took it over to the lab, and asked the technician for priority placement. Few days later and
bam
! Results were ready.”

“But only a small percent of matching genes,” I said again, looking over the results for the hundredth time. “Does that mean she’s family?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought you said—”

“
Lonnie and Grace didn’t know her before she showed up in Oakland,” he said. “They’ll swear to that. As far as I know—as far as
they
know—
Rebecca’s
not related. Molly is.”

“I don’t know how this stuff works,” I said,
hoping Bruno could provide the insight that I needed. “Does this mean… Luke is Molly’s dad?”

“Not possible,” he said. “A paternity test would’ve
concluded a much higher percentage—much closer to fifty percent. We’re looking at less than twenty-five percent between Luke and Molly.”

“So… what, then?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “They’re family; we know that. But not father and daughter. It’s just a matter of figuring out how Rebecca fits in to the equation. That’s the hard part. No one had heard of her until she blew into town a few weeks ago—”

“Luke knows,” I said, dropping my head. I was sure of it. The only way he’d keep hanging around them—spending every waking moment with them—was if he knew exactly what connection he had with them. “That’s what kills me, Bruno. He knows the truth, and here we are running around like a bunch of crazy people trying to figure out what’s going on, and he could just tell us.”

“
If he wanted us to know, we would know,” he said, patting my hand. “Everything will get sorted out in due time, sweetheart. I promise.” I shook my head and read the results again, still trying to figure out how Rebecca and Molly could possibly fit into Luke’s life without Lonnie never having heard of her. Maybe she was one of his mother’s distant relatives?

Bruno
adjusted his belt. “Sorry to run, but I’ve gotta get to the airport by seven.”

“Airport?”
I asked. “You’re fleeing town right in the middle of an investigation?”

“Heading out West for a few days.”

“On business?”

“
Something like that.”

“But you’ll be home for my surprise party on Friday, right?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t planning on staying away too long. Detective Bruno had somehow become one of the
few people I felt I could truly count on. If there was anyone I wanted to celebrate my birthday with, it was him.

A simple grin curved on his lips
, and he shook his head to ward off a laugh. “You know about the party?”

“
Don’t forget who’s throwing it,” I said, almost laughing. “I know he thinks he’s throwing me off the trail by waiting a few days after my actual birthday, but I’ve known for a while. Secrets aren’t exactly Charlie’s forte—”

“Agreed,” he said, winking. “
And yes. I’ll be back in plenty of time. In the meantime, keep a low profile. Don’t let on that you know anything, okay?”

“
Know anything about what?”

“Good girl,” he said, giving me one swift pat on the back. “
Have a good birthday tomorrow, and I’ll see you Friday.”

I walked him to the front door
and watched as he made his way to the car.

“Hey Bruno,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “Thanks... for everything.”

“Sure.” He zipped his jacket and opened the car door. “Anytime, Julie.”

Chapter Two

Tuesday, March 05

Charlie passed out on the couch around nine. Sometime between old sitcom reruns and stuffing his face with day-old pizza, he somehow managed to drift into a deep sleep. And I mean
deep
. He hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since he closed his eyes. Surprisingly, even Matt’s return from his shift at the flower shop hadn’t disturbed Charlie’s slumber.

After my cousin
had trekked upstairs and into his bedroom to settle in for the night, I gave the living room a quick once-over. I tossed the pizza box in the garbage, collected a few empty soda cans, and laid a blanket over my sleeping uncle. With a quick kiss to the forehead, I pried the remote from his hand and turned off the TV. 

It wasn’t until an hour later that the silence in the house
became immensely unbearable. Both of the guys were fast asleep, not at all in keeping with their normal schedules. Which, yes, I understood. They were overworked—Charlie, with the shifts at the station and party planning; Matt, with school and his (secret) double work schedule.  So, with them in bed and the house without the usual buzz of the television or Matt’s late night phone conversation with Kara, there wasn’t much to distract me from the constant replay of my earlier meeting with Detective Bruno. The deafening silence had only opened up endless opportunities for me to overthink every minute detail of what I’d learned.

I
found myself heading upstairs sometime before eleven. After a quick change into some pajamas—a pair of Luke’s old sweatpants and a tee-shirt—I slipped into bed. I prayed for sleep to find me as quickly as it’d found the rest of my family, but I had no such luck. My brain wasn’t nearly as tired as the rest of my body. So, after a bout of sheep counting (I managed to count at least seven hundred before giving up), I pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. I left my room and headed down the dark hallway, managing to avoid most of the creaky floorboards. When I finally reached the shared bathroom and closed the door, I turned on the shower and quickly stripped my pajamas to the floor.

Moments later,
I gladly stood beneath a scalding stream and let it pelt against the back of my neck. Masochistic as it seemed, the scorching water turned out to be the exact distraction I’d been looking for. I needed something—
anything
—to take my mind off of Luke, Bruno, and that dreaded surprise party.

I needed answers.

No, what I needed was an escape plan.

No, seriously… what I needed was to make like Derek and get the hell out
of dodge.

But running would only get me so far. It’d take me away from the people, but it wouldn’t take me away from the problems. At the end of the day, I’
d still be stuck facing my demons. Running seemed as likely the answer as eating a gallon of ice cream. Good in theory, bad in practice.

I dropped my head against the shower wall and let the hot water fall onto my shoulders. Slowly but surely, second by second, the tension in my muscles began to melt away. But it was only minutes before I heard rustling in the hallway, bringing me to
assume that I was no longer the only one awake. Assuming Charlie had finally decided to come upstairs to bed, I ignored the noise and closed my eyes. But it wasn’t until the door creaked open that I stood straight, nearly paralyzed.

“Um, hello,” I said, offended that Matt or Charlie would thin
k it was okay to just barge in. “Occupied… obviously.”

When the door closed, I immediately
felt I wasn’t alone. Whoever had walked into the bathroom hadn’t left. There was a heaviness settling in the pit of my stomach, a nervousness that I couldn’t explain. It was that feeling all over again—that familiar feeling of being watched. Matt wouldn’t do this to me, and neither would Charlie.