A Home Come True. Cheryl Harper

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СКАЧАТЬ caught a man’s attention. He’d never once managed to stop her outside to introduce himself when he made it a priority to know his neighbors. Now that he had a family to protect, that knowledge mattered more than ever.

      All four of those women knew how to murder a man with their eyes.

      And the men behind them would have finished him off with pleasure if there’d been anything left after the battle. Cole Ferguson, the ex-con he’d met at the shelter, and Will Barnes, the guy he’d tried to strong-arm into informing on Sarah, were familiar. The third guy he’d never met, but the expression had been “die” to match the rest.

      He refused to feel guilty about any of the tactics he’d used in the Bobby Hillman case. It had taken longer than he’d liked, but his way had worked. Sarah had given them the tip they’d needed. So he’d been wrong about her involvement. He wouldn’t start doubting his gut now.

      “At least I won’t have to see them again after next week,” he muttered as he made a slow turn in front of Sue Lynn’s diner. The place was already closed. Of course. Holly Heights was one of those places that rolled up the sidewalk at sundown. At this time of night, Austin and Houston both were nearly as bright as day. Before he’d come here, he’d imagined places like Holly Heights were myths. Wasn’t convenience a twenty-four hour thing these days?

      Or at least it was in the only two cities he’d called home before leaving them behind for the “comforts” of country life.

      As soon as he found one of those comforts, he might feel better about his move.

      He missed the city, the noise, the convenience. Most of all he missed the work he’d done in Austin as the department’s best detective, work that had mattered.

      Luke swung the Mustang into the parking lot of the only store open at this time of night. Because of its proximity to the highway, this neon one-stop shop stayed open until midnight. “Chicken it is.” Luke scanned the empty parking lot as he got out and carefully locked the car door.

      Nothing moved. He didn’t feel the prickle of eyes watching him. That took some getting used to.

      “Howdy, what can I get you?” the young girl behind the cash register asked. Luke studied the store. Was she here by herself? That wasn’t safe.

      “Gimme the four-piece and a large drink.” Luke slid cash across the counter and took his change and the big cup she handed him. By the time she had his order ready, he’d filled his cup and studied all the security features. Cameras in all four corners of the store offered good coverage. As long as they were taping instead of placed there for show. When the store was robbed, the police would have something to work with.

      He hoped there was a panic button behind the counter and thought about asking the girl. If she hadn’t been scared before, a random guy asking about her security measures ought to do it. Instead, he raised his bag in a wave and headed out to the car.

      With a quick turn of the key, he opened the car door and slid inside.

      Then he considered his options.

      If he went home, he’d never taste one greasy bite of this chicken. The bag would be snatched out of his hand before he shut the front door behind him. “Scavengers. Every single one of them.”

      He’d made the move to help his foster brother, who needed a new start and his mother was struggling to find her way, too. Still, that didn’t mean it was easy sharing this space.

      Parking in front of the empty gas station to have his dinner might answer his question about whether the station had a panic button. He’d have the awkward job of explaining to his new coworkers why he was there instead of home.

      Or he could drive. Luke reversed out of the parking spot and eased out onto the road that went past Paws for Love animal shelter. He was in no hurry. Luke turned up the radio so that classic rock filled his ears, cracked his window to let the sweet smell of autumn in Texas flow in and took the first piece of chicken out of the bag.

      As an officer of the law, he understood that any distraction while driving was a bad idea. As a hungry man with nowhere to go but home, he knew he needed the time by himself and the chicken, so he meandered the roads around Holly Heights until the food was gone and he could no longer postpone the inevitable.

      The first uptick in his blood pressure came as he tried to park in his own driveway. He’d chosen this house because it had four bedrooms, the yard his mother had been dying to have her whole life and a peekaboo view of Holly Creek. He’d thought the water would be relaxing, but keeping his four-year-old niece away from it was a constant job.

      Dodging three different bicycles, all left to fall where they were abandoned, made it impossible to get the Mustang anywhere on the pavement that belonged to him. Since the house he’d chosen was at the dead end of a quiet subdivision, there was plenty of space in the street.

      It was a good thing comfort in Holly Heights cost about half of what making do did in Austin. Even after selling the house he’d called home, getting enough space for his family had been a stretch.

      He’d bought the car at sixteen and then taken ten years to restore it—he hated parking it in the street.

      Luke stretched as he got out of the car in order to make sure whatever tension he could chase away was gone before he stepped inside.

      His mother didn’t need to hear the irritation in his voice. He could pretend to be easygoing.

      When the door swung open before he had a chance to use his key, Luke nearly tumbled inside, but caught himself on the doorjamb. His sister’s little girl, Mari, was staring at him, one finger in her mouth. Since she was wearing a tutu and carrying a lightsaber, he had a feeling she’d had a good day.

      “Hola, Mari,” Luke said as he scooped her up. She was usually one of his favorite people in the house.

      Mari didn’t answer. She rarely did, but she pressed both hands to his cheeks and leaned forward to kiss his nose. Her usual, sweet greeting.

      Luke squeezed her tightly and then set her down. “Where is your abuela?” In the Hollister family, everyone spoke English and Spanish, usually at the same time. Mari’s mother, Camila, had spoken nothing but Spanish when the Hollisters had agreed to foster her twelve years ago. Everyone had learned Spanish that summer.

      Since it came in handy on a nearly daily basis working law enforcement in southeast Texas, Luke counted that education as one more thing he owed his adoptive parents.

      Mari smoothed her long ponytail over one slim shoulder, straightened her tiara and pointed like the princess she might be. Or the Jedi. Or both, really.

      He didn’t need the clue. The noise would have told him.

      Connie Hollister, his mother, was lecturing again. And Joseph Martinez, the newest foster kid lucky enough to land with the Hollister clan, had not yet learned to keep his mouth shut.

      “Homework comes before video games, not after,” she said and tried to point imperiously at the hallway so that Joseph would go to his room. Before she finished the motion, her arm fell limply in her lap.

      A bad day, then. Grief had robbed his mother of some of her fire. Every day he wondered how to discuss the depression; understandable though it was, it scared him. The family needed Connie Hollister. He needed her.

      Luke СКАЧАТЬ