Hidden in Shadows

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Luke glanced over his shoulder at the tea racks. Sure enough the floor was covered with broken glass jars of tea.

“A man was here,” Krista whispered.

Luke glanced at her. “Did you recognize him?”

“He grabbed me from behind and…” She closed her eyes.

Luke fought the urge to reach out and hold her hand, tell her everything was going to be okay.

Natalie took Krista’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay, Krista.”

Krista opened her eyes and stared directly at Luke. She wanted something. He didn’t know what.

“Is it…safe?”

“Yes. He’s gone.”

But they both knew what she was really asking was if this was connected to Garcia’s drug business.

“Did he say anything?” Luke asked.

“He wanted my purse.”

“Do you think it was the same guy who was hiding in your garage?”

“I don’t know.”

Two paramedics rushed into the kitchen and lay a backboard on the floor.

“I’m really okay,” Krista protested.

Luke and Natalie stepped aside, letting the EMTs tend to Krista.

“Natalie, where’s her purse, do you know?” Luke said.

“In my car.”

With a nod, Luke went outside.

And 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.

“Find what you’re looking for?”

“Hey, what’s the problem?” The guy struggled, but Luke pinned him against the car.

“The problem is you breaking into a stranger’s car.”

“This is my fiancеe’s car.”

Natalie stepped out of the tea shop. “Timothy? What are you doing here?”

“You know this guy?” Luke said.

“He’s my fiancе, Timothy Gaines.”

Luke released Timothy.

“Who are you?” Timothy demanded as he rubbed his shoulder.

“A friend of the police chief.”

With a disgruntled nod, Timothy turned to Natalie. “You okay, honey?” He gave her a brief hug, then stepped back and looked into her eyes. “I was driving by and saw your car in the lot. You left the keys in the ignition.”

“I’m okay. Krista was attacked.”

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 didn’t 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.

“The chief will want to talk to both of you,” Luke said, and marched to the ambulance. “Where are you taking her?”

“Westfield Clinic. If they think it’s more serious they’ll transfer her.”

“I want to go with her,” Natalie said.

“I need you to stay here and give your statement to Officer Sherman,” the chief said.

“I’ll follow her to the clinic,” Luke said.

“Good.” The chief and Luke shared a knowing look.

Krista’s 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. He’d left Krista in a house full of people, thinking she’d be safe, that no harm could possibly come to her in that environment.

His mistake. One he wouldn’t make again.

But he’d been anxious to get out of there, away from the friends and church folk who surrounded her, welcomed her.

Loved her.

Something Luke hadn’t experienced much in his life. Mom tried, but Luke always sensed he’d been more of a burden than a bright spot in her life.

Sure he was. He’d been a troublemaker in school, always acting out, getting sent to the principal’s 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 didn’t begin to describe the war brewing inside Luke’s 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 he’d 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 of…