Where Dreams Begin (39 page)

Luke shot Catherine a dark look. “For the last time, get out of here.”

He was truly angry now, and Catherine wondered if it was because he was innocent, or God forbid, guilty and infuriated at being caught. She and Dave had backed him into a corner, and she couldn’t bear to listen to anymore lies. She rose, but rather than stand to move out of her way, Dave came off the desk to block her path.

“Catherine stays,” he said.

Luke backed out into the outer office. “Come on out here where there’s more room to talk.”

“Not if you’re just going to lie,” Dave countered.

“I’m not the one lying here. Garcia is close, but he’s too committed to the idea one of the Lost Angel kids is the killer to consider any alternatives. In his mind, Ford’s murder merely proves his theory. I have another one.”

Standing behind Dave, Catherine saw the clear outline of a knife tucked in his hip pocket. She didn’t recall ever seeing him carry a pocketknife. While she might have missed it, that night it struck her as an ominous sign. He had easy access to Luke’s office and could have planted the disguise in Luke’s desk any time, even that afternoon while Pam had been away to summon her.

She’d thought the death of Luke’s daughter might have compelled him to murder, but Dave had suffered tremendous losses of his own. He was always eager to be helpful, but had he struck out on his own to fight the dangers threatening Lost Angel’s teenagers?

She backed away from him, but with him blocking the aisle, she was trapped between the chairs and file cabinets. “I’d like to hear your theory, Luke. Please tell us.”

Luke came back to the doorway. “In some respects, I’ve been as shortsighted as Garcia. I was certain none of the Lost Angel kids was the Lady in Red, but I hadn’t given any thought as to who it might be. Then Ford was killed, and it seemed much more likely the murderer was somehow linked to the center.

“This afternoon I asked Garcia why they’d pinned Ford’s murder on the Lady in Red if no one had seen her, and he told me no one else slices up her victims in the same way. The coroner recognized the knife wound in Ford’s belly instantly.

“Catherine, you asked Garcia once if it didn’t take tremendous strength to stab someone the way the Lady in Red has, and he just shrugged it off. I asked myself who might have the necessary strength, and who might have recognized Ford Dolan’s truck when he fired on the mural. Only one name came to mind.”

“That’s funny,” Dave interjected. “We came up with yours.”

“Leave Catherine out of this,” Luke demanded angrily. “We’ve got all night. You and I can work something out on our own. Let’s send her home.”

There was an alarming edge to Luke’s voice, and easily following his line of reasoning, Catherine knew she would be wise to get away now and call the police. “I think I will go. Excuse me, Dave, I need to get by.”

“Sit,” Dave ordered. “No one is going anywhere.”

Catherine tried to ease by him. “You’re scaring me, Dave. I want to go home.”

With a sudden quick turn, Dave shoved her back into her chair with his left hand, and drew his knife with his right. With the tap of a button, he flicked open a razor-sharp blade.

“Catherine and I are leaving together,” he told Luke. “You’re going to pretend you didn’t see us tonight. You call the police, and she’ll be the one to suffer.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Luke came out of the doorway and with an explosive force, punched Dave in the face. He slammed him back into the desk, but Dave struck out with his knife and tore at Luke’s left biceps.

Blood sprayed across Catherine’s face, and she screamed as she scrambled out of her chair. The men were fighting for control of the knife, shouldering each other with brutal strength, and she was forced back against the window to avoid being hit as well.

Luke had hold of Dave’s wrist, but Dave shoved him off-balance, broke free of his grip, and slammed the knife into his shoulder. Desperate to help Luke, Catherine kicked Dave in the knee, causing him an instant of inattention that allowed Luke to recover. Then Dave turned and slugged her.

Catherine careened into the file cabinet, and the philodendron bounced precariously toward the edge. It tottered in a blurry dance before her vision cleared. The flowerpot was the only weapon at hand, but as she reached up to grab it, the jostling men had turned so that Luke was now closest to her. She dared not risk hitting him and so hugged the plant close to her chest.

Luke’s shirt was stained with blood, but he was still slamming his right fist into Dave as they wrestled for the knife. They fought with the fury of bare-knuckled champs. Blood streamed from Dave’s nose, but he seemed as unaware of the injury as Luke was of his.

It made Catherine sick to watch them, but she couldn’t turn away. When Dave caught Luke in the chest with the tip of his blade, the pair swung around again, putting Dave within striking distance. Awaiting a clear shot, Catherine swung the potted plant up against Dave’s head.

The pot shattered, showering her with dirt, and for the briefest of instants, Dave froze, apparently uninjured. Then he swayed, and when Luke caught him on the chin with a fierce right, he went down.

Luke wrenched the bloody knife from Dave’s hand and then collapsed beside him. “Call 911. Tell them we need an ambulance, and police, quick.”

Catherine shook off the dirt covering her clothes and then had to step over both men to reach the telephone lying on the floor behind the desk. She immediately called for help, then bent to check Dave for a pulse.

“Have I killed him?” she asked fearfully.

“No, you just stunned him, but he damn near killed me, and I appreciate your help.”

Still shaking, Catherine went into the outer office for the twine stored in the supply closet. She grabbed the scissors from the desk she often used, and swiftly tied Dave’s hands behind his back before he had a chance to awaken and attack them again. Then she lashed his ankles together.

“I don’t want you sitting next to him. Can you move into the outer office?” she asked.

“I could crawl, but that wouldn’t be very manly.”

“How can you joke at a time like this?” She knelt beside him and began to unbutton his bloody shirt. “I’m going to rip this up to cover the cuts. I’m afraid you’ll bleed to death before the paramedics arrive.”

Luke rested his head against his desk. “Sorry, but it wasn’t a fair fight.”

When he closed his eyes, Catherine shook him. “Don’t you dare die on me! Stay with me, Luke.”

He glanced toward her, but his eyes were dulled by pain. “I’m a long way from dead, but did you really think I was the Lady in Red?”

She was too ashamed to admit the idea had even crossed her mind. “I was so frightened, I didn’t know what to think, but I definitely wanted to hear your side. It’s a good thing I didn’t leave the first time you asked me, or you’d have been on your own.”

“I doubt Dave would have let you go even then.” He watched her quickly bind the cut in his arm, but all she could do was apply pressure to the deeper cuts in his left shoulder and chest.

“I’ve been a complete idiot,” he murmured.

“There was no way you could have known Dave was the killer.” She pressed down hard, but blood was still oozing from his chest, and she feared the wound was even deeper than it appeared. She tried to smile as though she had everything under control, but her lips trembled and gave her away.

“No, I meant about you.”

“Don’t talk,” she urged. She turned to make certain Dave was still out cold, and he hadn’t moved.

Luke felt dizzy, and the sight of his own blood splattered across her cheek and shirt made him sick. “Fool that I am, I actually believed it would be better if we went our separate ways. Then I found you here with Dave, and all that mattered was protecting you. I would never have let him take you. You know that, don’t you?”

The ambulance and squad car pulled into the parking lot before Catherine could respond. She shoved herself to her feet and ran to the door to meet the paramedics, a man and a woman, and two powerfully built male police officers. While the paramedics tended to Luke and Dave, she attempted to string together what had happened for the officers.

When Toby came running through the door, she was overjoyed to see him. “Dave tried to kill Luke,” she rushed to explain.

“I heard the ambulance and was afraid someone else had been shot. My God, is that your blood all over you?”

Catherine glanced down at her once pale green T-shirt and jeans. “No, but it’s a good thing I was dressed to paint, isn’t it?”

The paramedics were able to rouse Dave, but as the police officers began to escort him out to their squad car, Catherine called out to them. “There are some clothes in the bottom drawer of the desk that you ought to take with you. They belong to the Lady in Red. DNA testing should prove Dave wore them.”

Once the officers had Dave confined to the back seat of their patrol car, the younger of the two returned to retrieve the suspicious garments. He bagged them, then shook his head. “You telling me that guy out there is the Lady in Red?” he asked.

“Apparently so,” Catherine replied.

Toby appeared to be equally astonished. “I’ve been hanging with the Lady in Red? You got to be kidding.”

“Does Luke look as though this were a joke?” Catherine countered. “Now I doubt they’ll let me ride in the ambulance, and I’m too upset to drive my own car. Will you give me a ride to the hospital?”

“Of course. I didn’t mean I doubted you. It’s just that, well, nobody expected the Lady to be a man in drag.”

“I did,” Catherine claimed proudly. “Now come on, let’s get out of the paramedics’ way.”

Kids had begun to gather in the parking lot and crowded around the ambulance when Luke was carried out on a stretcher. “Is he gonna die?” Max called out.

“Hell, no,” Luke shouted.

“A few stitches and he’ll be fine,” Catherine assured them. She crossed the street with Toby, and while he failed to drive with Luke’s manic speed, they arrived at the County/USC Medical Center only a moment behind the ambulance.

“I don’t like coming here again,” she said.

“There’re not that many trauma centers operating anymore, and Luke is a bloody mess.”

“I could have done without that.”

“Sorry, but I’m not happy to be here again either,” Toby complained.

“Just drop me off. I want to stay with Luke.”

Toby dug a business card out of his wallet. “Here’s my number. Call me if you need anything, a midnight snack, donuts at dawn, a ride home in the morning, whatever.”

“Thanks, Toby.” Catherine leaned over to kiss his check. “Oh, there is one thing. In the morning, will you please tell Pam what happened? I’ll need to buy a new pot for the plant, but I don’t want it thrown out.”

“You got it,” Toby assured her.

Catherine left his truck to follow the paramedics inside. She caught up with Luke’s stretcher and reached for his right hand.

“I’m not leaving you.”

Luke tried to smile, but winced. He was close to blacking out, but squeezed her hand. “Good. I want you to stay.”

She bent over to kiss him. “Hang in there, hero.”

Luke didn’t feel much like a hero, but he liked hearing it. His left arm felt as though it were on fire from his fingertips to his shoulder. The paramedics shifted him from the stretcher to a treatment table, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he were in the same room where Nick had died.

He tried to sit up, but a whole crowd of medical personnel appeared to hold him down. The bright light hurt his eyes, and he shut them tightly. “Just sew me up. I want to go home.”

They numbed Luke’s pain, but Catherine couldn’t bear to watch the doctor stitch up his flesh. She kept a firm grip on his hand but looked the other way. A nurse cleaned off her face and brought her an icepack for her cheek, but she cared little about being bruised from Dave’s blow.

It was early morning before Luke was released, and they were both too tired to think clearly. “I can call Toby to give us a ride to Lost Angel to pick up my car,” Catherine suggested, “or we could just take a taxi to my house and worry about our cars later.”

“Call the cab,” Luke urged. “I can do without Toby today.”

Luke’s left arm and shoulder were so heavily bandaged, he could hardly move, but he slept easily in Catherine’s bed knowing she was cuddled by his side. They didn’t get up until late afternoon, when hunger made further sleep impossible.

“Do you still have the steaks?” Luke asked.

“They’re in the freezer. Do you feel well enough to sit out on the patio while I set up the grill?”

In truth, Luke felt sore all over from the fight, but unwilling to appear an invalid, he rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. “Sure, I don’t feel nearly as bad as I look,” he lied. But after Catherine had showered and dressed, he entered the bathroom and swore when he discovered another black eye.

He made it out to the patio under his own power, while Catherine was busy lighting the charcoal. “I hope you won’t mind my coming to dinner without a shirt, but even if I had one, I don’t think it would fit over the bandages.”

Catherine kissed him rather than complain. “Even if you may look as though you were hit by a train, you still look awfully good to me. Besides, we’re outdoors rather than in the dining room, so we needn’t worry about maintaining the proper decorum.”

“That’s a relief.” Luke felt right at home in her backyard, but after watching Smoky chase butterflies through the colorful flower beds for a moment, he pulled her note from his pocket. “The last time I was here, there was something you wanted to tell me. You wanted to talk last night too. We’ve got plenty of time now.”

Satisfied the charcoal was burning nicely, Catherine sat beside him. “Maybe you ought to eat first.”

“Is it that bad?”

Catherine had been too frightened in the last twenty-four hours to think of the baby, but now she was resigned to telling him the truth. “It’s all in your point of view.”

Luke nodded to concede the fact. “Well, I’ve already acknowledged being an idiot where you’re concerned; but maybe you’ll overlook it. You want to get married?”