A Home Come True

He’d been in Holly Heights less than a month and already he’d heard the praises of the Yates and Lincoln families sung. He’d met Rebecca Lincoln at the shelter. By process of elimination, the other angry woman flanking Sarah had been Stephanie Yates.

And down in front, his neighbor, Jennifer Neil. Red hair like hers, cut in some cool way he couldn’t name, 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 leaned a shoulder against the arched opening to the living room as Mari ran to her mother, tugged her hand and pointed in his direction.

“Ah, now you’ve done it. Luke is here.” Camila’s satisfaction at this rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t the father. They had no father anymore, not since Walter Hollister had died six months ago, but he seemed to be filling in more and more.

“What’s the problem?” he asked as he bent to press a kiss on his mother’s cheek. She was pale but her eyes were snapping with irritation, looking not unlike the four women he’d left across town.

“Joey hasn’t been doing his homework. One of his teachers called me today,” his mother explained.

“Joseph,” the boy said slowly. “My name is Joseph.”

Whatever his life had been before, it hadn’t broken Joseph Martinez. At fourteen, he was as annoying as any teenager could be.

Logic and reasoning were long-term strategies but they were all he had to work with.

“Go put away the bikes, Joseph.” Luke braced his hands on his hips, prepared for an argument. “The next time I find them like that, I’ll lock them away.” He pointed at Mari, who ducked her head and pursed her lips, as certain of her safety in this case as she was every other time he’d made the threat.

“Why am I the only one?” Joseph muttered as he reluctantly paused his game and then turned it off. He had to step over piles of Mari’s toys to slump next to the door. “I know my bike’s not the only one out there.”

“Nope, but you’re on your way to do your homework.” Luke leaned closer. “And Mari’s a baby who needs to get ready for bed.”

Joseph rolled his eyes and stepped outside.

Satisfied that the trick his older brother had used on him more than once still had power, Luke followed Joseph. The kid had picked up his own bike and slid into the seat to ride slow circles on the driveway. Luke bit his tongue and grabbed Mari’s bike and Renita’s.

“Where’s Renita?” At seventeen, his sister was doing her best to take control of her life. She would go to college on a scholarship and be anything she wanted to be.

“Babysitting. You need to go get her at ten.” Joseph rode in front of Luke. “I’ll be glad when I get a job. Then I can get a car, and get out of this hole. Go home.”

Luke opened the door to the garage and set both bikes inside before he tried to answer Joseph. At some point, the kid would settle down. They all did.

“It’s hard to change schools,” Luke said in his most patient voice. “Everybody’s got to adjust to a new town, but this is going to be good for you. Your old home was not.”

Joseph silently shoved his bike in the door and then slammed it shut. “Yeah. Sure. Good for me.”

Luke tilted his head back to study the sky. In the country, he could see the bright white lights instead of dull tiny pinpoints against a sky that never went completely dark. Amazing.

“You know at your old home it was only a matter of time, J.” As a police detective, Luke had learned to keep his mouth shut and his ears open at all times. Every little scrap of information he picked up might have value. Listening to the guys on the gang task force discuss troubles at Joseph’s middle school had been enough information for Luke. His mother wouldn’t make it through losing another kid to violence like that.

“Nah, I’m too smart to get caught in a mess,” Joseph said as he scraped a tennis shoe against the driveway.

“The wrong place at the wrong time is all it takes. Bullets don’t care how smart you are.” He’d seen that proven time and time again. Coming to Holly Heights, where he’d investigated the theft of bake sale money from an animal shelter, where not a single person was injured should be living the dream. Except this was so boring he was sleeping through it.

“They got bullets here, too, Luke. This is Texas.” Joseph’s grin was contagious. “Come on. That was a sweet one.” He held up his hand and Luke slapped it in a reluctant high five.

“If you ever wanted a fresh start, here’s your chance, kid.” Luke caught Joseph’s hand and held on. “Hear me. One way or another, you’re going to do your homework. Upsetting Mama right now? I won’t allow that. She needs peace and quiet.”

“Quiet? Around here? With so many of us? I want to see that.” Joseph tugged his hand. “I hate math. The rest is okay.”

Since he’d hated math, too, Luke found it hard to argue. “Do your best. That’s all she expects.” Joseph nodded and disappeared inside the house, which was closing in on Luke.

Luke walked slowly to his car and started it up. Instead of doing a U-turn and heading for freedom, he eased into the driveway and turned off the engine.

What would it be like to be living in Austin all by himself again?

He’d barely appreciated it for the time he’d had. Now he’d bask in every single second he had alone.

When his mother got stronger, he could reconsider what he wanted. Life in Austin had been too hectic to help her out with the family, and more than anything he wanted to give back. Whatever Connie Hollister needed, wanted or didn’t even know to ask for, he would do. She and Walt had saved him. For now, she thought small-town life would give her and her family what she dreamed of.

Luke missed his father. Walter Hollister would have talked her out of a move like this.

These nights, he wished he could turn to his older brother Alex for advice or to complain, but Alex was gone, too.

Luke had to keep it together.

And he was already exhausted. A trip into Austin to see his old desk, his old partner, his old chief and the case he’d dogged for months closed by someone else wasn’t high on his list of favorite day-off activities.

At this point, it didn’t matter. All he could do was what had to be done.

CHAPTER THREE

“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Jen asked as she held up the drawing Cole had put together with suggestions for the landscaping outside her new house. “With the wrought iron fence. This place will be nice, right?” For their first day of work, the fencing guys seemed to be making good progress. They’d started as soon as the sun came up, so she’d missed out on her extra Saturday sleep, but it would be worth it. Posts would be finished along one side of her property by the end of the day.

Her mother snorted. “How much will that fence cost? There’s so much of it.”

Since she’d asked that about every single improvement Jen planned to the house, which was already almost three times larger than the home she’d grown up in, Jen snapped, “Forget that. Decorative fencing will add prestige to this place. How does it look?”

“Pretentious,” her mother drawled, standing in the driveway, scanning the area. “Like you don’t want anyone to visit. I mean, a fence like that with a gate? Who do you think you are? Royalty?” her mother scoffed. Working split shifts as a waitress had always kept her mom humble. “Do you think a fence with spikes at the top is necessary?”

“Most mothers would be happy their daughters were improving the security of their homes.” For a woman who could still remember the panic of being chased all the way home from the bus stop by a pack of kids who thought it was funny to watch a skinny redhead cry, this fence was a dream come true. Then, she’d wanted something else between her and the world besides a single flimsy door. Anyone who thought about coming over the top would be discouraged before even trying.

Once she was inside her fence and her house, she would have no worries anymore.

Jen waved the piece of paper at her mother. “It will mean you’re safer, too, after you move in. That’s important to me. Think of all the space we’ll have, and nothing but the best of the best. Just what you deserve.”

Brenda Barnes shook her head slowly. “How many times are you going to bring this up? I’m not moving in with you. One of us would murder the other in the first week and then what would happen with all your precious lottery money?”

“Well, you could take it and run off to Mexico. We aren’t that far.” Jen fluttered her eyelashes at her mother. There was no doubt in her mind who would kill whom. The Great Cake Baking Assignment of 2016 had proven beyond any doubt that her mother was tough as nails. They’d managed to make dozens of cakes for the Paws for Love bake sale, and only extreme love and true devotion had prevented Jen from telling her mother where she could put her measuring spoons. “If I’m dead, I won’t be slowing you down, will I?” That had been her mother’s number one complaint—Jen worked too slowly in the kitchen.

Since Brenda had been waiting tables at Sue Lynn’s for as long as Jen could remember, she was an Olympic-level star in the kitchen. Jen might as well have wandered in off the street. Between Brenda and Rebecca, she spent zero time cooking and liked it that way.

Jen had worked every job she could find for years to pay off all the debt she’d picked up in college, yet having to cook had never been one of them.

After she’d hit the lottery, Jen had concentrated on the job she was good at, teaching math to surly teenagers. The baking thing had been a moment of insanity that turned into a two-week long sentence and dishpan hands.

“You need to get a hobby.” Her mother slid into the Honda Civic that had been missing the back bumper ever since she bought it.

Jen wandered over to the driver’s window and motioned for her mother to roll it down. “I have a hobby. Spending money completes me, Mom.”

A reluctant laugh escaped her mom’s lips. “Lie to everyone else, but your mother knows.” She narrowed her eyes. “We are never going to live together again, Jenny. My house is perfectly spacious now.”

“Can I buy you a new car, then?” Jen motioned at the back. “I know bumpers are extravagant and all...”

“Have you talked to your brother about your investments lately?” Brenda asked as she always did when she was ready to end a conversation.

Jen and Will, her stepbrother, were closer now than they ever had been. Since they’d mixed like orange juice and toothpaste when they were kids, that wasn’t saying much. This time Will brought with him the world’s coolest daughter, a niece Jen wished lived in Holly Heights instead of Austin. If Chloe were here, she’d have opinions on every bit of the landscape drawing.

“I saw him just last night. Besides, you know we meet every week to talk about investments and charities and Paws for Love. Don’t worry. Will’s got his eye on me.” Since he was the golden boy who always reassured her mother. The fact that Brenda was only his stepmother had never convinced her to take Jen’s side over Will’s.

And the guy was smart, even if he had fallen like a rock for Sarah Hillman.

“Get a hobby.” Her mother pointed to punctuate every word. “Or a date. And if you put up razor wire or hire men with dogs to patrol this compound, I will ask Bobby Hillman how to steal every penny you have for your own good.”

Brenda tilted her head. “You understand? Now give me a hug. I’m going to be late for the dinner shift.”

Jen awkwardly stuck her head in the window and wrapped her arm around her mother’s neck. For so much of her life, Brenda had raised her all alone. When she’d married Will’s father, they’d had a hard time working two new people into their lives and her mother’s tiny house. After her divorce, her mother had done her best to make sure Jen and Will stayed connected. Her mother’s smell of fresh laundry and lavender was expected and reinforced Jen’s decision to convince her mother to move.

Brenda worked too hard. Now that Jen was a woman of luxury, she could spoil her mom. She felt so guilty as she watched her mother pull out of the driveway.

Jen refused to accept a no. That’s who she was.

Her mother didn’t want a roommate. Fine. Maybe a house next door? Jen crossed her arms as she walked the large expanse of yard to the empty lot beside her property.

How long would it take to build another home?

Jen bent down to pat Hope, the pit bull mix she’d adopted from the Paws for Love shelter. All the noise had rattled Hope, but she was sprawled out in a sunny spot next to the lead Jen had put in the yard. When the fence was finished, Hope would have total control of a truly spacious kingdom. “Getting what we both deserve, right, Hopey?”

Hope turned her head to give Jen’s hand a lazy lick and she stretched her legs out behind her. The spot of fur that had been cut out where she’d been wearing the collar when they rescued her was growing in nicely, but she seemed to like the pink bandannas Chloe had insisted were the perfect accessory.

This dog. Jen blinked away tears as she considered what Hope’s life had once been. Everything was so good right now. With Hope snoozing peacefully in the sunshine it was difficult to remember all the hard times.

Which made her think of Sarah.

Since she’d been clutching her phone like a lifeline ever since two o’clock had rolled around, she knew she had no messages. Surely Sarah would let them all know about how the visit with Bobby went.

Maybe her friends had made plans to get together after she’d left the dinner party.

The old familiar feeling that everyone was having fun without her rolled across Jen.

“Don’t be an idiot. They care for you. There’s no news yet.” Jen shoved the phone in her pocket as Luke Hollister’s car came down the street.

She didn’t return his wave but started for the driveway.

Then she realized Luke would have the news she was so anxious for.

Suddenly wishing she’d done a bit more than pull on a faded orange University of Texas sweatshirt and gray sweatpants with a hole in the knee, Jen marched across the street in order to catch her prey before he disappeared inside. No way was she knocking on the door.

Instead of hustling to avoid her, Luke Hollister slowly pushed down the lock on his car door down and closed it. He didn’t lean against the vehicle, but waited; his careful stare seemed to be cataloging details as she approached.

“What’s the news?” Jen asked. She would not run her hands through her hair in an effort to make it look less Saturday stay-at-home matted to her head. She would control the conversation.

“Hi, I’m Luke Hollister. We didn’t introduce ourselves last night but I like to observe the usual pleasantries.” He offered her his hand which she studied carefully before slipping hers inside. Luke Hollister was sharply dressed with dark pants, a white button-down and a beautiful gold tie. Last night, his vibe had been more undercover cop with a scruffy beard. Today, he could be the department’s chief spokesperson. “And you are?” He didn’t squeeze in a manly move to dominate, but there was no mistaking his power when he shook her hand.

Remember what you’re doing. Staring in wonder at his very nice hand should not be it.

“Jennifer Neil, but you knew that.” She brushed her hand through her hair because she couldn’t help it. “Last night. Anyone who’s hounded Sarah the way you have has a roster of her friends.”

“And enemies. And people like you who’ve been both at one time or another. That is one long list.” He shrugged. “I’m a thorough cop.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “So I’ve heard. All I wanted to know was whether Sarah got in to see Bobby. Then I’ll return to my side of the street.”

“Yes, Sarah was still with him when I left. Will had a list of lawyers they were contacting.” Hollister closed his eyes for a minute. “And that’s all I know. Once you’re out, they don’t tell you much. Sarah will have to give you any updates about a court date and what happens next.”

If she didn’t know Hollister’s methods, Jen would have guessed that was a sign of regret on his face. The corners of his mouth turned down, but she had the feeling he didn’t spend much time with regret.

“Fine.” She took one step back. “Thank you.”

Before she could turn around, Hollister said, “I wanted to mention, that work crew that start at dawn on Saturday could be construed as an act of war in some places.” He rubbed a finger over the frown wrinkling his forehead. “A house with a four-year-old who manages to sleep in is one of those places. Could you make sure they wait until a reasonable hour?”

She was paying them extra to work as fast as they could. No way was she going to alter their schedule. Annoying Luke Hollister would be the cherry on top.

Jen wondered what the story was. Besides his wife and daughter, how many people lived in that house? At least one of them liked loud guitar solos and open car windows, no matter what time of day it was.