The Ludzecky household was the noisiest place Luke had ever been. As a kid, it drove him wild—the phone constantly ringing, a stereo blaring from each of the four bedrooms, and the girls chattering from dawn till dusk. His seven sisters could reach a decibel level that would surpass Chinese torture in the right circumstances. Often, he escaped to the solace of his bedroom, only to have them prance in on him, needing advice, some money, or even to borrow his shirts. The worst part was how they insisted on interfering in his love life; they’d put him in a million embarrassing positions. Still, he loved the girls, five of whom came home today at Donuta Ludzecky’s command.
Caterina, the one who was closest to him and nearest his age, mimicked his mother’s voice as she plopped down next to him at the scarred kitchen table in their cozy home in Queens. Her eyes, the exact hazel color of all eight of them, sparkled with mischief. “‘You’ll come home to see your brother unless you’re sick or having a baby,’ she told us all.”
Luke smiled at the impersonation. “Dobrze, Cat. You’re improving.”
Actually, one of them was having a baby. Ana, three years younger than Luke, was about to give birth, so she’d been excused. Her impending motherhood made Luke feel like he was missing something in his life. Sofia had gone on a youth group conference, so she was off the hook, too.
Luke held court with the other five girls while they waited for an early supper before he went back to Fairholm. “Can it, ladies. You know you love havin’ me here.”
“Yep,” the youngest, Elizabeita, put in. She was sixteen, still in high school, and brighter than a Rhodes Scholar, which she might someday be. “It’s like the pope’s visiting whenever Lukasz breezes into town.”
“Prosze!” he begged, and threw a napkin at her. She giggled adoringly.
From behind, brilliant Magdalena slid her arms around his neck, then placed a beer in front of him. “You know we love you, buddy.”
Unbidden, another woman who’d recently called him that came to mind. How are you, buddy? Kelsey Cunningham had asked the day he was suspended for keeping her away from Webster’s fists. Her dark eyes had been troubled, and her hand had stayed on his arm a long time.
“Hey, Lukasz, where’d you go?” Magdalena asked.
“Nowhere, Mags.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “It’s good to see you.”
Donuta bustled into the kitchen, carrying golabki, kielbasa, and his favorite, pierogi. The enticing aromas of his mother’s specialties warmed him. Setting the food on the table, she stopped and took Luke’s face in her hands. “My bopchee,” she said, kissing him on the lips. “Brakuje mi Ciebie.”
“I miss you, too, Matka.”
Paulina and Antonia entered the room together, carrying the rest of the traditional Polish dishes. Identical twins, they’d married their high school sweethearts when they graduated and worked in the family business. The girls bounced onto chairs after he and his mother sat; everybody looked to Luke. As the only man in the family, he led the prayer. “Dear God, thank you for bringing us together. Thank you for this wonderful food and for the gift of life.”
Donuta put in, “And keep Lukasz safe.”
His sisters stilled. They knew he worked undercover for the Secret Service, but nothing specific about his jobs. Though they didn’t belabor it, the recognition that their brother and son was often in danger sat heavily on his whole family. Because of it, Luke religiously called home every Monday night to let them know he was all right. He knew they waited for the reassurance.
Briefly he wondered how Stonehouse had done this job all these years. Must be he didn’t have a family who worried about him. God, Luke hoped he didn’t end up alone, like Joe.
“So,” Paulie said in her usual glib manner, trying to defuse the moment, “how’s the world of espionage?”
“You know your brother can’t talk about that.” Donuta patted his arm. “We’re just grateful you could squeeze in a visit.”
Which made Luke feel bad that he didn’t come home often enough. Not that he could. Even getting away now was a risk, but he was too close—three hours away—to miss the opportunity. Stonehouse agreed he could go. “I’ll try to get home more, Matka.” He smiled at the women who were responsible for his love, respect, and awe of the female sex.
“Can you at least tell us where you’re working?” Elizabeita asked. “We can’t tell from those spiffy clothes you’re wearing.” He’d dressed up for his visit in navy slacks and a pressed pin-striped shirt. Sometimes he missed his real clothes; he wondered if Kelsey would like them.
“No, Lizzie, I can’t tell you.”
“Is it exciting?”
“Yeah, the work’s interesting this time.”
“Any new women on the horizon?” This from Caterina. He swore she could read his mind sometimes.
Which was why he tried to blank it of dark eyes and wispy bangs falling into them. Luke, you have so much potential...let me help you...I could tutor you.
“There is somebody.” This from Nia.
“There’s women where I’m working.” He grinned. “They’re gorgeous. And smart. Just like you, baby.”
“Then they won’t want anything to do with you,” Elizabeita said haughtily.
“Quiet, Einstein,” Luke teased. “Boys don’t like girls who show off their IQ.”
“Yeah, Lukasz, that’s always been your problem.” Caterina again. “The women who fall at your feet can’t match your mind.”
I’ll bet you got straight A’s in everything. Luke couldn’t believe no one had scooped Kelsey up yet. The face of Mike Wolfe materialized before him. I’ll try to distract Ms. C. a little longer so you can beat her to class. Luke had watched the man’s hand slide to the feminine slope of her back, caress it gently. His own hands had fisted.
“Come on, Lukasz, share!”
“I’m so not gonna do that. You’ll try to interfere like you always do. But I’ll tell you a story about Barak Obama’s daughters.”
Tales of the exploits of the uniforms had always intrigued the girls. He spent a lot of time entertaining them with allowable details. As they ate, his sisters got owl-eyed at yet another story about the past president of the United States and forgot all about the women at his school.
Luke didn’t forget as easily.
o0o
Ben’s fingers were nimble on the strings as he played one of his original songs. His hair was tinted green and he had it tied in about a dozen tiny pony tails on top of his head. He wore a thick green sweatshirt with symbols of the pagan holidays. When Luke had asked him about it, Ben said Morgan gave it to him for Yule, the pagan holiday at Christmas.
The words that left Ben’s mouth were heartbreaking, even to a macho guy like Luke.
You’re a Super Freak
screaming at 3 A.M.
And you’re a Super Freak
just praying for the end.
Stoically, he let Ben finish the song as he sank back against his headboard in the upstairs bedroom of the house Joe had rented. Luke chose his words carefully. “Pretty heavy stuff, Franzi.”
Ben shrugged, then frowned. “The English teachers at school say people use poetry to vent their saddest feelings. Songs, too.”
“Yeah, I do that.” Picking up his Gibson, Luke strummed absently.
Ben fiddled with his own guitar. “You won’t tell anybody about the lyrics, will you?”
“Like who?”
“Your uncle, for one. All I need is him on my ass.”
“On your ass?”
“For suicidal feelings. My mom would flip if she was contacted by the school about her son’s depression.”
“What’s your mom like?”
“She’s okay. She’s a teacher and always hovering over me like I’m one of her little kids.” He smiled. “I mostly like her doing that, but it’s suffocating sometimes.”
“What does she think of your Wiccan stuff?”
Ben’s head snapped up. “Why?”
“Hey, no offense. I’m just interested.”
The boy settled down. “She lets me do it; she even takes an interest. Once when we were in the basement, doing a circle—”
“What’s that?”
Ben explained how Wiccans believed in sectioning out a sacred space when they prayed or used magic. In a way, it was a mobile church. “Anyways, my mother came to the basement while we were praying and I yelled, ‘Don’t step in the circle.’ She didn’t wig out like most parents would have. She smiled, asked me to explain what we were doing, and left us alone.”
“Nice lady.”
“She’s cool, even if she does make me go to church with her.” He looked at Luke. “What’s your mom like?”
Luke gave his worst bad boy scowl. “My mother can’t handle me, that’s why I’m here. With my shrink uncle.” Luke rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about me tellin’ him anything. Hell, we hardly ever talk. I can’t stand him.” He added, “Kids at school say he’s a good counselor, though.”
“Why aren’t you living with your father instead of him?”
“My pa’s dead.”
Ben stared off into space. “My dad’s dead, too.”
Luke hummed a bit, giving Ben the opportunity to talk. When he didn’t, Luke asked, “Was he as cool as your mom?”
“Yeah, he was a college teacher. Really with it. About guy things, you know.” Luke could hear the emotion clog the boy’s throat. Damn, Luke was no psychologist. He felt more equipped to deal with kids who said they wanted to kill their teachers than with those who had thoughts of killing themselves. At a loss, he decided to act like a friend. “I’m sorry.”
Again, Ben shrugged.
“What did he die from?”
“A quick and dirty case of pneumonia.” Ben drew in a breath. “He was gone in a week. Can we talk about something else?”
“Okay.”
Luke thought about Ben’s loss. “Can I ask you somethin’?”
“I guess.”
“Were you friends with that kid, Zach, who killed himself?”
Dark eyes narrowed and filled with pain again. Ben nodded.
“Was he a nice guy?”
“Yeah. Got along with everybody. Even jerks like Duchamp and that scumbag Webster. That’s why people were surprised when he offed himself.”
“Were you?”
Ben shook his head, looked away, busied himself with a few chords. For a while, they picked at some songs together, then Ben glanced at the clock. “I gotta bounce by nine. I don’t have my night driver’s license.”
“Why didn’t you say something? I could’ve picked you up.”
“I like my own wheels. Makes me feel I’m in control.”
“Aren’t you? In control.”
“Nobody’s in control of their life, Ludzecky; it’s all an illusion.” He grinned. “Hey, sounds like a song.” His voice was mellow as he sang, “It’s all an illusion, the life we lead.”
Luke listened to the pain behind the words as well as the sad melody. It wasn’t a good idea to jump to conclusions, but Luke knew he had to talk to his uncle about the young boy before him.
Ben was packing up when he said to Luke, “I got tickets to see The Berries tomorrow night.”
Luke whistled. “The band’s awesome. And the lead singer’s a hottie.”
“Morgan can’t go. She won’t be back from Albany in time.”
“I’d like to see them.”
The broad hint made Ben smile. “Okay.” They headed downstairs. “You can drive, ’cuz it’ll get over late.”
At the front door, Ben turned to Luke. “You won’t talk to your uncle about me, right?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.” He hoped he sounded offended. Ben gave him a mysterious smile. “Good, ’cuz I wouldn’t wanna have to kill you.”
Luke guessed Ben was kidding, but his Secret Service instincts urged him to react.
Then Ben punched Luke’s shoulder. “Just kidding, Ludzecky.”
“Oh, sure. I knew that.” He punched Ben back. “‘Bye, buddy.”
o0o
“He said what?”
Luke let out an exasperated breath. “He was just kidding.”
“Damn it, Luke, you don’t know that.” Stonehouse paced the den where Luke had found him sipping a drink and staring at reruns of The X-Files. Something was bothering the guy. He’d been surly and antisocial since Luke had returned from his mother’s.
“What’s eatin’ at you, Stonehouse?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious.”
“Oh, hell. I don’t know why I’m taking this out on you.” Stonehouse stopped his nervous trek, then took a sip of his drink. “Somebody slashed Suzanna’s tires.”
“What!”
“Luckily, I was with her when she found the damage. I’m afraid she’s in more danger than I thought.”
“Well, we’re making strides here.”
“Yeah, but I don’t feel good about all this. I can’t pinpoint anything, really. She had Josh’s car, so the violence could have been meant for him.” Again, the agitation.
Luke studied the man. “You got something goin’ with this woman?”
“No, of course not. Why the hell would you ask that?”
“You’re pacin’ like a worried suitor.”
“I’m responsible for her safety. For everybody’s safety.”
Luke dropped onto the arm of the couch. “You believe that, Joe?”
“Of course I do. I’ve got to keep her—all of them—out of harm’s way.”
“I wanna do that, too, but we aren’t gods. We can’t guarantee their safety. We do our best to uncover problem areas in the school. And help the troubled kids, like Ben.”
Joe frowned. “So, how’s he doing overall?”
“He has a lot of risk factors. Recent loss. First his father, then Riley. Suicidal thoughts. And that Wiccan stuff.”
“You said he’s not into devil worship, right?”
“No. Wicca seems to be a healthy religion. The kids get on him about it, though.”
“We should read up on it more. To be sure his version is accurate.”
“I can go search the Net tonight.”
“All right. That would help.”
Luke stood and headed to the door.
“Luke?”
He pivoted around. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I bit your head off. Good work with Ben.”
“Thanks.”
An awkward silence fell, but Luke hung back.
“How was your visit with your mother?”
His grin was broad. “Great. My sisters were home, too.” He hesitated. “You got any family?” It was amazing what people didn’t know about each other.
“Yeah, a sister.”
“You miss her?”
“Yes.”
“Me, too. I mean, I miss mine.” Another awkward pause. “This is a tough life, isn’t it?”
“Most of the time.” Joe sounded resigned. After a moment of strained silence, he turned away, as if embarrassed.
So did Luke. Hell, he didn’t even like the guy. Why should he feel good at the compliment? At the solicitousness? Luke had lived all his life without male approval. He didn’t need it now.
o0o
The concert hall in downtown Fairholm was cavernous. Rows of seats crowded in together like stiff little soldiers. There were groups of The Berries fans standing in the back and along the sides. Which made it totally unexpected that Luke and Ben bumped into—literally—Mike Wolfe and Kelsey Cunningham.
Ben said, “Oh, sorry. Hey, Ms. C.!”
“Ben, hello.” She smiled at the boy and turned her gaze to Luke. “Hi, Luke.”
At first glimpse of her, Luke thought he might swallow his tongue. She was dressed in tight jeans which outlined every contour of hip and thigh. Boots made her a couple of inches taller. But, holy Jesus, the shirt she had on should be illegal! Black Spandex dipped low in the front and hugged the generous curves that Luke had speculated about but never seen in such...definition. The shirt was saved from being salacious by a fringed suede vest she’d worn over it. Dangly brown and black earrings completed the bohemian outfit.
She looked just about good enough to eat.
Wolfe apparently thought so, too. His eyes narrowed on Luke. “Close your mouth, Ludzecky.”
Luke burned at the chastisement. But he forced himself to feign embarrassment.
“How are you, Luke?” Kelsey’s voice was solicitous.
“Good.” He didn’t know why he added, “I got to see my mother this weekend.”
She reached out and squeezed his arm. He felt her touch all the way to his toes. “How nice.”
Wolfe drew her back. Kelsey tossed him a questioning look.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” Ben put in. “When we talked about the concert, you didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t think I could get tickets.” Kelsey gave her full attention to Ben.
“Glad you did,” Ben said and smiled.
God, it was true that teachers could spark kids’ self-confidence. Ben knew Kelsey liked him, and it made him feel good. It also looked like Ben had the makings of a big-time crush. Not that Luke blamed him.
Wolfe said, “Let’s go, Kelsey. I want to get up front.”
After quick good-byes, Luke watched them leave. Ben said, “Let’s go down where they are.”
Mutely, Luke followed Ben. He wasn’t exactly sure why tonight had suddenly turned as grim as identifying a dead body. All he knew was seeing Wolfe with Kelsey put a damper on the evening.
An hour later, after the warm-up band finished, Luke’s black mood darkened when he and Ben were maneuvered by the crowd to a spot behind the couple. Wolfe slid his arm around Kelsey, touching her waist intimately. So when a fellow fan bumped Luke’s arm—and he was in the process of drinking a Coke—he didn’t try to stop the trajectory. The liquid landed on Mike Wolfe’s back, soaking his Guess sweatshirt.
“What the fuck—”
“Mike!” Kelsey admonished. “The kids are behind us.”
Wolfe turned around. “Who the hell did that?”
“Sorry, Mr. Wolfe.” Luke held up his hands, arrest-style. “Somebody hit my arm.”
As he wrung out his sleeve, Wolfe continued to swear. “Jesus Christ, I’m soaked.”
“Oh, geez,” Kelsey finally said. “Just go buy a T-shirt and put it on. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Luke said, reaching for his wallet.
“No.” Wolfe must have realized he was supposed to be the adult here. “It’s no big deal.” He glanced around. “Come with me, Kel. I don’t want to leave you alone in this crowd.”
“But The Berries are coming on soon. I’ll miss their opening number.”
“Concerts can get rough. Kids mosh.”
“Not at a Berries concert. I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll stay with her,” Ben said.
Luke hid a grin. “Yeah, we’ll protect her.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Go, I’ll be fine. I’ll stay right here with my bodyguards.” She tweaked Ben’s muscles. “See?”
Grumbling, Wolfe left. Ben and Luke flanked Kelsey like sentinels. Soon, The Berries came on. Kelsey stuck her fingers in her mouth and let out a whistle.
Luke laughed out loud.
The lead singer, Roberta, thanked the crowd for coming, and made mention of the ponytails all the guys wore, their versions of her upswept hair. Then she began to sing. She had a sultry voice. It was smooth and sexy, and reminded Luke of hot nights and tangled sheets. Kelsey got a dreamy look on her face as she swayed to the bluesy words of love and loss and yearning.
Luke tried to concentrate on the performers.
He did, until they played a rowdy song that got everybody moving. And crowding. And pushing. Kelsey ended up in front of him, and Ben was herded several people down. In no time, everybody in the audience was packed in like the proverbial sardines.
It was hell.
It was heaven.
Kelsey was plastered against Luke. His hands came up and grasped her arms to steady her. He could feel the indentation of her back, the soft swell of her hips, her nicely rounded fanny pressing against him. Short, dark hair that smelled like flowers tickled his cheek. They were pressed even closer; his hands slid to her rib cage.
Proximity combined with nature, and Luke became aroused. He swelled against her.
Please don’t let her know.
She knew. Her body stiffened.
I’m sorry, he thought as an adult. But a kid would die before he’d acknowledge the reaction to a teacher.
Luke tried to ignore the shapely body pressed against him. His fingers itched to explore it. His mouth watered to taste it in all the right places.
And he cursed heaven, hell, and the Secret Service, because he knew this was the closest he’d ever get to Kelsey Cunningham.