In The Arms of a Stranger (14 page)

That question, and a myriad of others, would have to wait. But there was one that he could have the answer to now. Luke maneuvered himself so that he could see the car's tag. It was a Georgia plate, and Luke recognized the prefix as one for metro Atlanta. He called the series of alpha and numeric numbers up to Pete.

He lingered a little longer. Damn but there was something he wasn't getting, some kernel of information imbedded in
his brain that wouldn't cooperate. He finally gave in to defeat and the cold wind that swept across the mountain face.

“I'm coming up!” he yelled.

Pete waited with an anxious expression when Luke finally topped the edge of the cliff. The young officer helped him the rest of the way up and Luke was grateful. The muscles in his arms and shoulders had been challenged to the breaking point and his legs trembled with an overabundance of caffeine and a lack of food.

“Did everything check out?” Pete asked.

Luke hesitated, tempted to keep the details to himself, especially with Pete Guthrie's recent track record.

“No,” he finally answered. “I'm afraid the car was forced from the road. There are bullet holes in the back fender well and tire.”

Pete visibly paled, but there was a gleam of fascination in his eyes. “You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not.” Luke glared at him, hoping the young man interpreted the warning.

This wasn't television. It was reality. And the young woman in the car was more than a dead body and a forensic case. She was someone's daughter and certainly someone's mother. Luke hated gossip only slightly more than those who gossiped. He recalled the fact that Pete had discussed his whereabouts with his father and stepmother. His stepmother had a keen instinct for seeking out people who liked to swap gossip.

Maybe, when all of this was over and done with, he'd have a talk with the young officer about discretion and respect. For now he had to deal with the business at hand.

“There's not much more we can do here now but wait. Nothing—absolutely nothing—is to be touched or altered. Understand?” Pete nodded. “I need to ask Dana—Miss
Langston—some additional questions. I'm leaving you in charge of guarding the crime scene until we get backup.”

“Sure thing.” The gleam of curiosity returned. “You don't mean Dana Langston, the television reporter, do you?”

Luke looked up, surprised that Pete didn't know the details of the case. Had Ben Allen not apprised the entire force of the situation, including the manhunt for Gonzalez? Keeping things low-key was commendable, especially where Dana's public reputation was concerned, but leaving his men in the dark was another.

He felt his blood pressure climb a notch. Maybe Pete was the only officer who didn't know the details of the case. For now he could only assume that Ben Allen had good reason for not telling the young officer everything.

He'd better have a damned good reason. “Yes, the same Dana Langston.”

Pete suddenly looked as eager as a dog with a bone. “Is she okay?”

Luke stepped out of the harness and began coiling the rope. “She had a few minor injuries. She'll be fine after she gets some rest and decent food.”

“I meant…” He hesitated. “I meant it couldn't have been easy to be cooped up like that in such a fragile state of mind and all.”

Fragile state of mind?
Luke shook his head, dumb-founded. Pete either knew about Dana's close call with Gonzalez or he didn't. What the hell was he talking about?

Luke's patience was wearing thin and he made no effort to hide it in his expression. “What do you mean, ‘fragile state of mind'?”

“I didn't mean any disrespect, really.” Pete broke eye contact and began kicking at the ice-encrusted gravel beneath his feet. “I was at my cousin's place between here
and Atlanta when I saw the news report…” He hesitated, obviously unnerved. “He has cable and they get all the Atlanta stations—”

“For God's sake, Pete, get to it.”

“I saw her nervous breakdown or whatever they call it,” he blurted out.

“Nervous breakdown?”

“You didn't know about it?” The gleam of excitement returned. Scandal obviously trumped fear of disapproval. “One minute she was reporting a story and the next she was having a meltdown. Right there on the air.”

Luke felt his gut tighten in sympathy for Dana and in dread of what he was about to learn. “What was she reporting?” he asked.

“Reporting?”

“You said that she was reporting a story when she…” He ground his teeth and summoned what was left of his patience. “What was the story she was reporting?”

“Oh.” He frowned. “It was about a child. A little girl whose mother had abused and killed her.” He shook his head. “Sad story. The little girl was from Dunwoody. The same as that other kid that was killed.”

Michael Gonzalez. Luke felt sick to his stomach. It was as if everything he knew, or thought he knew, had been sucked into a void of darkness, leaving him without reason. So Dana had had an on-air breakdown. Funny, she had failed to mention that detail.

How could someone be so careless with this precious life?
Dana's words echoed in his head.
The mother had been drinking…

Luke shut his eyes, recalling the anger in Dana's voice.

There were several bottles of alcohol in the car…. Only one of them was full. It fell out and broke at my feet.

She couldn't be involved. Luke clenched his jaw. He'd
heard the gunshots with his own ears, seen the terror in Dana's eyes. A sliver of professional doubt made its way beneath his skin and whispered “what if.” What if she'd fired those shots herself, ditched the weapon and staged the rest?

But for whose benefit? There was no way she could have known he'd hear the shots, become involved. Was there?

None of it meant anything, except that Dana had been in the right place at the wrong time. Or the right time. She'd saved the baby's life for Christ's sake. So why hadn't she told him about the breakdown?

“Chief?”

He looked up at Pete, realizing that the officer had asked him a question. “What is it?” he barked.

“I just asked you about the baby.”

“The baby?” So Allen had told Pete about the baby but not Dana's identity. “What about him?” The wound on the back of his head began to throb, and Luke felt as if the last of his energy had drained from his body.

“Do you want me to contact DHR and have someone pick him up?”

Time stood still. His head and his heart ached as he tried to focus on the facts at hand. He was a professional, dammit, capable of making a rational decision, one that didn't involve his own feelings.

A professional was probably all he would ever be. Not a husband or a father. Just a cop.

Truth was, he'd give half his life and his job to keep from making the decision before him. He and Dana had made love, shared secrets. But the fact that she hadn't told him about the breakdown made him wonder if he really knew her at all.

Why would someone be traipsing around these mountain
roads in the middle of a blizzard?
Ben Allen's words echoed in his mind.

What else hadn't she told him?

Luke released the safety hooks on the rappelling harness and allowed it to drop to the ground. He stepped free of the equipment and kicked it out of his way. Dammit. Could he risk it? He'd come to love the baby as well as Dana…. The realization stopped him cold.

He loved her.

My God, what a fool. He loved her.

Or had he simply bought into the dream?

Luke recalled the lifeless body of the baby's mother, the jagged cut that had marred her features and the broken angle at which her corpse had frozen in the car.

He met Pete's eyes. “Yeah. Tell DHR to send someone right away.”

D
ana forked the last bite of salad into her mouth, closing her eyes as she chewed. This salad wasn't your wimpy, low-cal type. It was loaded with creamy dressing, crisp veggies, cheese, and every type of deli meat imaginable, including salami and pepperoni. Sinful. From this day forward, she vowed to skip all low-fat dressings. Why ruin perfection? She eyed the slice of thick chocolate cake that waited near her elbow and mentally added low-calorie to the list of has-beens.

Lieutenant Allen had informed her that Luke personally ordered the meal for her. She'd known it was true when the officer also produced an oversize can of beef-flavored dog food for Sam. Her canine companion was currently in the process of chasing the empty bowl across the hardwood floor, a dramatic effort to let them know that he wanted seconds. He finally gave up and sauntered to Dana's side for a shoulder rub. She slipped him a piece of Canadian
bacon instead, and he discreetly left with the treat as if it were a state secret.

The baby—Daniel, to her now—cried out and Dana's head snapped up. Ben Allen sat across the table from her, stiffly holding the baby while trying to interest him a bottle.

Ben had been a welcome sight, a reminder that there was a world outside the cabin. And that not all of its inhabitants were bad. She liked the young lieutenant right away. He had shy brown eyes that he kept downcast, a feature that contrasted with his blond hair and fair skin. He was very professional despite his friendly demeanor. Dana got the impression that he idolized Luke.

Right now his eyes registered controlled panic, the same expression she'd seen in Luke's once. A long time ago, it seemed. “I never could seem to get this right with my sister's kids, either. Maybe I got the wrong kind of baby formula,” Ben suggested as the baby squirmed and turned his head. “Chief said to get the powdered stuff, that he was used to that kind. I followed the directions…”

A wave of warmth ran through her at the connection she shared with Luke. She grinned. It was entirely possible that she was on a sugar and caffeine high from the mocha latte, but she couldn't seem to get the goofy smile off of her face.

Dana had been sad when Luke first left the cabin to join the road crews, certain that, in the ultimate irony, their rescue would be the end of the happiness she'd only just found. But a sense of uncharacteristic optimism had taken over along the way. Somewhere between Luke's suggestion that she foster Daniel and the fact that Luke was about to walk out of her life, she'd decided to take new risks. Starting with saying “yes” to the baby and “no” to saying goodbye to Luke. Maybe, just maybe, it could work.

“Be sure and thank your sister for me.” Dana nodded to the ancient car seat that sat on the table. Daniel let out a
squeal of frustration, and Dana held out her arms. “Let me give it a shot,” she offered.

The lieutenant frowned. “Weren't you just about to eat your cake?”

Dana smiled, filled with maternal longing that made the cake cease to exist. “No problem. Besides…” She glanced out the ranger's station window to where a half dozen men were noisily turning the tractor equipment around, preparing to leave. What was once a solid coating of ice had given way to a rustic but passable dirt road. “It looks like they've finished.”

“You're right.” Lieutenant Allen craned his neck, and it was obvious he wanted to oversee the progress.

She held out her arms for the baby. “Give him to me. You might be needed outside.”

“Thanks.” Ben looked relieved and brought her his little charge, along with the bottle. “We're clearing as far north as Ashton's Gap, and I need to accompany the crews. I promised the chief I'd check on his grandfather.”

Dana settled the baby into her arms, amazed as always at the feeling of completeness when she held him. She tipped the bottle in his direction, making eye contact as she offered him the formula. He grinned one gummy-grin and latched on to the bottle like a hungry pup.

“How'd you do that?” Ben gaped.

“I honestly don't know.” She smiled at the young lieutenant. Maybe things were turning around for her. Maybe she could do this, be Daniel's mother. She pressed her lips together and amended the thought.

For now.
Maybe she could get this right
for now.

Dana recognized that she'd gained a sort of insider clearance with Lieutenant Allen and decided to test it with a little prodding. “You said that you were going to check on Luke's grandfather?”

“Yeah,” Allen responded without hesitation. “Luke and his grandfather are close, cut from the same cloth.”

She never took her eyes from the baby. “Is this his paternal grandfather?” she asked, hoping the question sounded nonchalant.

“No way.” He paused, obviously weighing the wisdom of continuing the conversation. “We're talking about his maternal grandfather. Luke's mother died a long while back.” He frowned. “Did he tell you that?”

She smiled, nodding. “Yes, he did. It's a shame he wasn't closer to his stepmother.” She looked at the baby. “Every child deserves a mother figure in their lives.”

“True. But not everybody is a natural-born parent. Some ought not even try.”

Dana thought of the baby's mother, of the nauseating smell of liquor and death at the accident scene. She nuzzled the side of Daniel's neck, replacing the disturbing memory with the sweet smell of baby powder and warm skin. “I couldn't agree more.”

“Well, Miss Camille is one of the ones who shouldn't bother,” Ben added.

“What do you mean by that?”

Ben Allen scratched his head. “Sometimes you gotta know where someone's been to understand why they're the way they are. Like a lot of folks around here, she started out with nothing. Sometimes that makes a person hold on to what they've got a little too tight. You know?”

No doubt Lieutenant Allen meant material possessions, but… Dana looked at Daniel. Was that what she was doing? Holding on too tight, so tight that someone might get hurt? Her thoughts flashed back to Michael. Is that what she'd done to him—held on at all costs?

Ben looked uncomfortable with the pause in conversation, shifting from foot to foot. Even Sam hopped up and left the
room as if he wanted no part in the conversation. “So did the chief talk much about his father and stepmother while y'all were stuck up here?”

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping Ben wouldn't notice. There was no need to stretch the truth. Luke's comments had been cryptic but well to the point. “Yes, he did.” Dana shrugged and hoped the gesture looked lighthearted. “No television.”

“The chief's a good man,” Allen said with determination, as if he were arguing the point with an invisible adversary. “He'd do just about anything for anyone in this town.”

“He's not the only one that made a rescue.” She smiled. “Thank you for all you've done for us.”

“You're welcome.” Ben Allen blushed. “Listen, I gotta get the crews headed up the mountain. I hope I'll see you again, say a proper goodbye before you leave town.”

“I hope so, too.”

“Chief, I didn't hear you come in—” Ben's voice echoed through the cabin.

She turned to find Luke standing in the doorway, Sam by his side. Dana was surprised that neither she nor Lieutenant Allen had heard him enter the cabin. But the normally quiet room had been filled with conversation. Guilt washed over her. Conversation about him.

“Hey…” She stood, carrying Daniel, and closed the gap between them. One look into his eyes, and reality beat down on her like a cold, hard rain. Something was wrong. “Did you make it to the accident site?”

He nodded, casting his eyes downward away from hers. “We can't move the vehicle or the body yet, but I've asked for backup. We'll settle things soon.”

Settle things? Luke's choice of words struck her as odd.
She held the baby a little tighter, and both their gazes fell on Daniel. “I'm so glad he's too young to understand.”

Something in Luke's eyes grew hard. “Me, too.”

Dana frowned, sensing there was more that he wasn't telling her. But now wasn't the time to prod. She'd done enough of that for one day. Besides, Luke would tell her what she needed to know when the time was right, she assured herself. Maybe when they were alone. But the vague feeling that something was wrong lingered.

“Lieutenant Allen, I need you to take Miss Langston to town.”

Miss Langston?
The words sounded ridiculous on Luke's lips.

He dug a key from his jacket pocket and passed it to Ben. “She and the baby can stay at my place until we can make other arrangements. I'll take Sam with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Ben all but saluted. They'd been caught gossiping like two spiders in a web. No doubt Lieutenant Allen would spend more time than she would making up for the transgression.

Luke's expression softened, and he reached out to rub the top of Daniel's head, ruffling the dark fuzz. The baby responded with a grin, punching the air with his fist in an attempt to reach Luke.

He straightened, the official demeanor back as quickly as it had disappeared. “Stay with them, Lieutenant,” he ordered, his steely gaze boring into Ben's. “I'm going with the crews to retrieve my Jeep.” He looked at his watch. “I shouldn't be more than thirty minutes behind you. You're not to leave until I get back. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Will the crews tow my car in also?” Dana asked.

Luke averted his eyes. “That may take a little longer.”

She frowned, puzzled. “I'd like to at least get my things from it—my luggage, my purse…”

“We'll get to it. As I said, though, it may take some time.”

Dana nodded, a niggling anger rising to tighten her shoulders. She understood he was acting in official capacity, but the last few days had been difficult. And personal, where Luke was concerned. She wanted her own clothes, makeup, and craved a shower.

And a little tenderness on Luke's part wouldn't hurt, either.

“Let me give you my car keys,” she said. Dana walked to the table where the diaper bag lay and fished them out, returning to where Luke stood. She cocked her head, trying to determine the odd set of his features. “Take these in case you have an opportunity.”

He accepted the keys, fisting them in his palm. “All right, then,” Luke commented. “I'll meet you at the house.” He turned and left, Sam by his side.

Dana felt hollow, disappointed that Luke wasn't driving her to town. He wanted her at his place “until other arrangements could be made,” and the invitation had been anything but personal. She reminded herself that he was on duty, but inside she felt as if someone had doused her with cold water.

She stood in the middle of the room, clinging to Daniel like a life raft.

“I'll gather your things for you,” Ben Allen offered. “If you'll tell me what all you'll be taking with you.”

“Let's see…” She glanced around her, relieved to have the distraction. “All the baby's supplies.” Dana gestured toward the kitchen counter, which was littered with formula and bottles. “You can put them in the diaper bag. Oh—and if you'll hit the eject button on that tape player,” she ges
tured in the direction of the dilapidated equipment, “there's a cassette inside. I'll take that, too.”

He frowned. “That's a cassette player?”

“From the Jurassic era, yes.”

Ben knelt and retrieved the tape, turning it over in his hands. “Lullabies?”

“We found it in the diaper bag. It came in more handy than you can imagine.”

Ben grinned. “I understand. I have six nieces and nephews.” He dropped the cassette in the diaper bag and loaded it down with the other supplies. He glanced around them. “Anything else?”

Dana looked around her. There were empty cans of fruit and vegetables still sitting atop the kitchen counter, along with a few unopened ones. It was amazing that the few canned goods and the contents of the diaper bag had been the focus of their very existence. Now that the roads were cleared, the world had opened back up. A tinge of sadness hit her.

It had opened up and closed down at the same time.

So where had all her optimism for the future gone? She bit back tears. It probably lay in the same ditch as Luke's affection, a casualty of the real world.

“I'll just grab my clothes from the bedroom.” Dana turned her back on Ben before he could see the flash of emotion on her face. She found her shirt and jeans draped over the foot of the bed and folded them over her free arm. She was ready to go. Just like that, she was leaving three of the most important days of her life behind.

Dana clutched Daniel as she stepped outside, a bit disoriented by the sun and the sudden freedom. Slushy snow and ice gave way beneath her feet as she picked her way carefully to the police cruiser. She slid the car seat into the back of Lieutenant Allen's vehicle and eased the baby in
side, adjusting the straps snugly over his chest. She buckled herself in next to him and glanced back at the cabin. It looked like an old friend, and Dana forced herself to look at the road ahead of them—the road that would take them to Luke's home.

The drive was short, and Ben cheerfully filled the time with conversation about Sweetwater. Dana was amazed that the rugged, remote mountains seemed to run right up to the city limits, giving way to the small metropolis that was Luke's very existence.

Sweetwater really was the center of his world, his focus. The thought struck her as at once understandable and profoundly sad.

Though the roads in downtown Sweetwater had been cleared of ice and snow, the town was devoid of activity. Shops were closed and the parking spaces that lined the business district were empty. The effect was the same as an empty shopping mall or school. The energy lingered but the life was missing. Dana shivered, suddenly feeling an old familiar trickle of fear work its way down her spine.