spotted a man digging around in the front seat of the car. Gutsy. The place was swarming with emergency response personnel and he was trying to snatch the car? So much for this being a quiet tourist town.
Luke came up behind the guy, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.
âFind what youâre looking for?â
âHey, whatâs the problem?â The guy struggled, but Luke pinned him against the car.
âThe problem is you breaking into a strangerâs car.â
âThis is my fiancéeâs car.â
Natalie stepped out of the tea shop. âTimothy? What are you doing here?â
âYou know this guy?â Luke said.
âHeâs my fiancé, Timothy Gaines.â
Luke released Timothy.
âWho are you?â Timothy demanded as he rubbed his shoulder.
âA friend of the police chief.â
With a disgruntled nod, Timothy turned to Natalie. âYou okay, honey?â He gave her a brief hug, then stepped back and looked into her eyes. âI was driving by and saw your car in the lot. You left the keys in the ignition.â
âIâm okay. Krista was attacked.â
Luke studied the dynamic between the couple. Although they were engaged there was something awkward about their interaction. Then again, Luke would have no idea what a loving couple looked like. Dad had abandoned them when Luke was five, and Mom didnât want to complicate her life by getting involved with another man.
Out of the corner of his eye, Luke spotted the EMTs carrying Krista out of the shop.
âThe chief will want to talk to both of you,â Luke said, and marched to the ambulance. âWhere are you taking her?â
âWestfield Clinic. If they think itâs more serious theyâll transfer her.â
âI want to go with her,â Natalie said.
âI need you to stay here and give your statement to Officer Sherman,â the chief said.
âIâll follow her to the clinic,â Luke said.
âGood.â The chief and Luke shared a knowing look.
Kristaâs situation seemed to be getting more dangerous by the hour. Another reason Luke needed to stay close.
Closer than close.
The ambulance pulled away and Luke followed in his car. Heâd left Krista in a house full of people, thinking sheâd be safe, that no harm could possibly come to her in that environment.
His mistake. One he wouldnât make again.
But heâd been anxious to get out of there, away from the friends and church folk who surrounded her, welcomed her.
Loved her.
Something Luke hadnât experienced much in his life. Mom tried, but Luke always sensed heâd been more of a burden than a bright spot in her life.
Sure he was. Heâd been a troublemaker in school, always acting out, getting sent to the principalâs office. Looking back, he realized it was anger at his life that drove him to lighting fires and stealing bikes. First abandoned by his father, then ten years later losing his mom to cancer.
Anger didnât begin to describe the war brewing inside Lukeâs chest as a teenager. After three years of being shuffled around in the foster care system, Luke channeled his anger into a different kind of war. The war in Iraq. At least it made him feel like he was doing something productive with all his rage.
Rage heâd buried, deep. Yet here he was, thinking about the past. A waste of energy.
He needed to focus on keeping Krista Yates safe. The image of her limp body lying on the floor reminded him ofâ¦
Karl, a good friend, whoâd been just as motionless after Garcia shot him and left him to die.
In front of Luke.
Helpless. Gutted. There was no other way to describe the burn rushing to every nerve ending in Lukeâs body ashe struggled to free himself from the duct tape to save his friend.
Heâd felt almost as helpless when heâd heard dispatch radio the call from Kristaâs tea shop.
She was Lukeâs lead
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