Susan Amarillas (2 page)

Luke reined in his infamously short temper and said, “And the boy is...”

“My son,” Rebecca supplied, so softly he might not have heard if he hadn’t been looking straight at her.

Holy sh—

Luke sank back on his heels, his slicker pouching out around his knees. Becky had a child, a son. All these years he’d never thought of her having a child. He’d known she had married. He’d also learned her husband had died last year. That was part of the reason he’d taken this assignment.

“Aw, hell, Becky, I’m sorry,” he said, with real sincerity. And that need to protect prompted him to cover her hands with his, his thumb rubbing intimately over her knuckles. Her skin was ice-cold, and he felt her tremble. “Is the boy your only child?” he asked, as much from curiosity as from concern.

Rebecca’s heart seemed to still in her chest, then took off like a frightened bird. A surprising reaction. She was not given to flights of fancy, and Luke Scanlin was definitely a fantasy—a young girl’s fantasy. “Don’t, Luke.” She slipped her hands free and stood. “Yes, Andrew is my only child.” She moved clear of him, survival instincts finally coming to the fore. “What are you doing here?”

He mirrored her stance, thinking it was such a simple question. Up until five minutes ago he’d been sure he knew exactly why he was here—to see her, talk to her and, yes, convince himself that she was merely one of many women he’d known.

Trouble was, five minutes ago he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t touched her, hadn’t looked into those liquid blue eyes of hers, the ones that were making his breathing a little unsteady.

Faster than ice dissolves when touched by a flame, his reasons vanished, and he told her honestly, “I came to see you.”

“Why?” she asked, and instantly regretted the question. It didn’t matter why—or did it?

“I came because—” his voice dropped to a husky timbre “—because I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

His voice, his closeness, it was all too much, and she felt cornered. Moreover, she didn’t like the feeling, not one bit. In fact, she resented Luke for making her feel this way. She feigned thoughtfulness as she took refuge behind the settee. “I have no time, Luke. My son’s missing, and I have business with Captain Brody here. So another time, perhaps.”

He recognized the dismissal. Oh, it was formal and polite, but it was a dismissal all the same. Luke wasn’t buying. He was here and he was going to stay, though he still wasn’t quite sure why. Missing children were hardly his line of work, not unless they held up a bank along the way. Maybe it was his lawman’s curiosity. Maybe it was that the policeman annoyed the royal hell out of him. Maybe it was that he wanted to see her smile, once, for him. Whatever it was, he said simply, “I prefer now.” He unfastened the buttons on his slicker and tossed it on the floor near his hat.

Brody spoke up. “Mrs. Tinsdale, would you like me to show him out?”

Luke straightened. A slow smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, pulled up one corner of his mouth. “Captain, you couldn’t if you tried.”

Brody shifted away from the mantel and took a threatening half step in Luke’s direction. Luke did likewise. Who the hell did this son of a bitch think he was?

“Stop it!” Rebecca ordered hotly. “I won’t have this in my house!”

Luke turned on her. Anger flashed in his black eyes. That short temper of his had shot up faster than a bullet, and he wasn’t used to backing down. But this was her house, and—

“All right,” Luke muttered, with a slight shake of his head to dispel the anger.

Brody, too, gave a curt nod and retreated to his place by the hearth.

Luke dropped down on the settee, making clear his intention to stay, in case there was still some doubt in someone’s mind. “Okay, someone tell me what happened.”

He was arrogant and self-involved as ever, Rebecca thought, her own temper moving up a notch. Looking at him sitting casually on her sofa, for the briefest moment she was tempted to recant and let Brody escort Luke out.

Who did she think she was kidding? Brody throw Luke out? Not hardly. Not without a scene. There was only one way to make him budge, and that was to give him what he wanted.

“My son disappeared yesterday,” she told him flatly.
And it’s all my fault.
She wasn’t sure how, but she knew it must be. Her guilt added to her anguish.

“What time?” Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Her mind wandered back to the terrible moment when she’d realized he was really gone. Disbelief had turned to shock, then fear. It was the fear that was twisting noose-tight in her stomach as the minutes slipped past. “What? Oh...” She began to pace again, her hem brushing the carpet as she walked. “Luke, I’ve already gone over this with Captain Brody.” She nodded in Brody’s direction, and he responded with a smug sort of nod.

“Well, tell me, then we’ll all know,” he said, his tone a mix of sarcasm and demand.

She was so astounded by his firm tone that she was more surprised than angry. And maybe that was the best thing. People made mistakes, said things better left unsaid, when they were angry. She needed all her wits about her when dealing with Luke.

She halted by the grand piano and looked out through the lace-curtained window. Rain sheeted on the glass, the lawn and the street beyond, casting blurred shadows, dark and menacing as the vivid fears she had for her son.

With sightless eyes, she continued to stare out as she spoke. “It was about four in the afternoon. I’d let him play in on the porch until dinner was ready. When I went to check on him, he was gone.”

“Any sign of a struggle, of any...injury?”

She turned sharply. “What do you mean, injury?”

“Blood?”

“Dear God, no!”

“Could he have run off?” he countered quickly, not wanting to upset her more than necessary. “Maybe he’s gone somewhere he isn’t supposed to go? Boys have a way of doing that sort of thing. Maybe he’s afraid to come home.”

“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “Andrew’s not afraid of me. He knows, no matter what, I love him. Besides, I’ve checked with his friends, and no one has seen him. The only family we have is my mother-in-law, Ruth. She lives with us. She’s out there now searching...like I should be, would be if—”

He held up a placating hand. “Just a couple more questions.”

Luke stood and faced Brody directly. So the boy had been missing all night. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. Still, there was no sense jumping to conclusions. “All right, Captain, what have you done to find the child...Andrew?”

“Listen, Scanlin, this is none of your business,” Brody flung back at him, obviously still smarting from the earlier challenge.

Luke didn’t give a damn. “Becky’s child is missing. I’m making it my business.”

Brody slapped his cap on his head and made as if to leave.

Luke blocked his path.

“I asked you a question, mister, and I want an answer. What have you done to find this child?”

Brody took a couple of steps back and looked up at Luke. Rage colored his blue eyes. “Look, Scanlin, you don’t have authority here, and I—” he thumbed his chest, near his badge “—don’t answer to you. I’m handling this just fine.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Luke said, without an ounce of remorse in his voice, “but I do have authority here.” With thumb and forefinger, he peeled back the edge of his gray wool vest to reveal a small silver badge. “U.S. marshal for this region, as of last Monday.”

Brody puffed up like an overstuffed bullfrog. “So?” he sputtered. “This ain’t a federal crime. This is local, and that means it’s my jurisdiction.”

“I wouldn’t let a little thing like a technicality get in the way. Becky’s in trouble. Her son’s in trouble, and that’s all the authority I need. This is personal.” And it was, he realized with a start—very personal.

Brody’s gaze flicked from Luke to Rebecca and back again. “Personal, huh? You and `Becky’ old friends?” he said smugly, in a way that implied something illicit. It implied something that could ruin a lady’s reputation.

Luke grabbed a fistful of blue uniform and yanked the man up close, so close their faces were only inches apart. “I don’t think I like your tone...Captain.” He spit the words out harshly. “The lady and I
are
friends. You wanna make something more out of it?”

Brody covered Luke’s hand with his own, trying to pry it loose. His pudgy fingers cut into Luke’s knuckles. Luke responded by giving the man a shake. “Now either watch what you say, or you and I can step outside and discuss this more vigorously.”

“Luke, for heaven’s sake,” Rebecca cut in. Luke ignored her this time. No way was he letting this bastard make a remark, start some gossip. He didn’t know much about society, but he knew firsthand how hurtful gossip could be.

Brody’s cheeks were mottled with red. His eyes literally bulged in his face. Through clenched teeth, Luke continued, “Well, what’s it gonna be?” He saw Brody’s gaze dart around the room, as though he were looking for help or an escape.

Luke’s mouth pulled up in a crooked smile that held no warmth, a smile that said there was no escape.

Helplessly Brody bobbed his head up and down like a puppet on a string. “You and her—”

“Who?” Luke demanded.

“Mrs. Tinsdale! You and Mrs. Tinsdale are friends.”

“Damned straight,” Luke snarled. “If I hear anything to the contrary, you and I are gonna tangle, Brody.” Luke released his hold so suddenly the man stumbled back a couple of steps before regaining either his balance or his composure. “Now, answer my question. What have you done to find the boy?”

This time Brody did answer, though to say it was curt would have been an understatement. Luke listened to Brody’s half hearted excuse for a search plan. The man couldn’t find his hat in a room full of spurs. Good thing Luke had spent the past three days looking over the files in the office, the map of the city, police rosters and the like. It was always his habit to familiarize himself with a town. Luke had never thought he’d need his knowledge so quickly, or for such an unhappy reason.

Without hesitation, he said, “Pull the patrolmen from the residential areas. Those are low-risk and can spare the men. Leave the business districts and the, ah...entertainment areas down by the docks at full staff. If there’s any trouble, it’ll be there first. Have the men here within an hour.”

Brody smoothed his rumpled uniform over his belly. “Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here—”

“I think I’m the man who’s gonna find that boy.” If it wasn’t too late, he thought but didn’t say. Becky looked upset enough, without him adding to it, especially if it wasn’t necessary.

Brody made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “The men won’t like being pulled off duty to search for some kid who’s probably holed up somewhere, laughing his head off at all the excitement.”

Rebecca spoke up. “Andrew would never—”

Luke cut across her words. “I don’t want to hear your opinions, Brody. Do what I’m telling you, and do it now, dammit!”

Brody slapped his cap on his head and stormed toward the front door. “I’ll see the mayor about this, Scanlin.” He disappeared around the doorway.

“Yeah, well, tell him to wire President Hayes if he’s got any complaints,” Luke snarled. There were some advantages to being a U.S. marshal. Being a presidential appointee was one of them.

Quickly he called out, “Right here, one hour—or I’ll come looking for you.”

The door slammed with glass-rattling force. With an anger he didn’t mean to take out on Rebecca, Luke whirled and said, “I’ll need a room.”

“What?” she muttered. She was still trying to assimilate the fact that Luke was a U.S. marshal. Of all the places in this country that needed a marshal, why did he have to be here—now?

Suddenly his demand penetrated her thoughts. “What do you mean, you want a room? Don’t marshals get offices and quarters?”

“Offices yes, quarters no—”

“Well, you
can’t
stay here.” she said, meaning more than in this house and more than this minute. She wanted him gone.

“Becky, my room is way the other side of town. The search area is here. I need to be close to the trouble.”

He obviously wasn’t going to go quietly. “Look, I appreciate you helping me with Captain Brody, and I appreciate you wanting to help with the search, but I hardly think you need to stay
here.
”

She started for the hallway. Luke followed, not bothering to bring along his hat and slicker.

She could be just as determined as he was. Lifting her coat from the mirrored hall tree, she pulled it on. The black wool was expensive and cashmere-soft against the side of her neck.

Luke positioned himself between her and the doorway. “Are you deliberately trying to make this difficult?”

“I’m not.” It was already more difficult than anything should be. With both hands, she pulled her hood up to cover her hair. “Staying here isn’t—”

“Do you want the boy—”

“Andrew.”

“Andrew,” he said with a nod. “Do you want him back or not?” He ran both hands through his hair, leaving furrows in the inky blackness.

“Of course, but—”

“I’m telling you, I need to be
here.
I need to coordinate with the police, and I can’t do that if I’m running back and forth most of the time. Look, if it’s so troublesome, I’ll camp in the damned front yard. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been cold and dirty.”

She looked up then, saw the determination and the concern mirrored in his grim expression. Was there some plan to make her life as difficult as possible? She desperately needed help, had prayed for help, but not from Luke Scanlin. Anyone but Luke Scanlin.

Logic warred with fear—fear of herself and him and the sudden flare of pleasure she’d felt when he first walked in here. What kind of a woman was she to have even the barest trembling of desire when her son was missing?

Without thinking, she took a retreating step back. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need me.”

“I don’t need you,” she countered emphatically.

“Well, you need someone, ‘cause even I can see that Brody’s not getting the job done. I do this for a living, and I’m damned good at it.”