4

 

Sara spent the entire trip to the airport in stony silence. The car stopped, and she glanced at Wilcox. “Thank you.” Somehow she managed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. The guy was only doing his job, even if she didn’t approve of his methods.

She grabbed hold of her case as Dave got it out of the boot.

Luke got a trolley and put his bags on it. “I’ll take yours, too. There’s room on here.”

Sara shook her head. “I can manage.”

She extended the handle and started to pull it across the busy departure hall.

Luke sighed. “Hon…”

Sara spun round. “Don’t you hon me. I am not your hon.”

Luke lowered his voice. “What would you rather I call you in public? Sara, or hon...honey?”

Sara glowered at him. “My name is Mrs. Bar—”

Luke shook his head, cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this. Put your case on the trolley with mine. I understand you’re making a point, but now isn’t the time or place.”

Sara bit her lip and did as she was told. She shoved her hands into her pockets and kept her silence as they walked to the check-in line.

Luke glanced at her. “Don’t pout. Anyone would think you were five.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m five, and I won’t act like it.” Sara handed her new passport to the girl at the desk. “Yes, I did pack my bags myself,” she confirmed when security asked. The case vanished. “So long as my luggage doesn’t go to Bangkok, we’ll be all right.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Been there, done that.”

“Did you get arrested, too?”

“Oh, for crying out loud.”

“What? It was a simple question.”

Dave spoke over the two of them. “When ye two have quite finished, we should go tae the gate.”

Sara stretched and tightened her ponytail. “Not yet. I’m going to find a bathroom.” She grabbed her hand luggage and shook her head when both officers started to follow her. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Yes, we do.” Luke’s tone left no room for debate.

Moving as swiftly as the crowds and the men would let her, Sara headed across the concourse to the ladies room. She paused and contemplated the men. “Coming in or staying here?”

Luke folded his arms across his chest, his jaw set.

“Staying here, I take it.” Sara pushed open the door and went inside, leaving both men standing guard outside.

She peered at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t have time to do this properly. Maybe she’d be less recognizable if her hair wasn’t long. She opened her hand luggage, rummaged through it, and pulled out the scissors. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her hair, pulled it into a ponytail and cut an inch below the band. She took a last glimpse at the eighteen inches of hair in her hand, before tossing it into the nearest bin.

Sara pulled out the hair band and ran her fingers through her hair. She spent a few minutes tidying up the ends and turning this way and that, not sure she liked her chin length bob. She threw the scissors in the bin. She wouldn’t be allowed them on the plane. She washed her hands, still studying her reflection. Let’s hope the leftenant likes his ‘wife’ with short hair. Leaving the ladies room, Sara took great delight in the double take both police officers shot her.

“What did you do?”

“Cut my hair. I would have dyed it as well, but there wasn’t time.” She held Luke’s gaze. “Is there something wrong with it?”

Luke shook his head. “No. I like it. It suits you.”

She’d not expected a compliment. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

 

****

 

Boarding the plane, Sara settled into the window seat. Luke was next to her, with Dave across the aisle. She folded her arms across her chest once they’d taken off, relieved when Luke began to read the in-flight magazine. Sara stared out of the window into the darkness.

Luke glanced at her. “What are you looking at?”

Sara pointed to the tiny orange lights glinting below them. “It’s fairyland. Jamie laughed at my ‘foolish notions’ and would launch into a detailed explanation of what they really were and why they looked like they did, but I didn’t listen. In my mind it’ll always be fairyland.”

Luke smiled. “That’s not foolish. Somewhere, anything is possible, and miracles happen.”

Somewhere, Jamie is still alive and with me. Somewhere, they’re not forcing me into exile.

Tears trickled unbidden down her cheeks. A sob caught in her throat, and she brushed the tears away, not wanting anyone to see her cry.

Luke glanced at her and lowered his voice. “I’m meant to be your husband, and the approaching flight attendant might think it strange if I let my wife sit and cry. Even if I wasn’t your husband, there’s no way I’d leave someone to cry without trying to comfort them. So if you don’t mind…”

Sara shrugged. “Do what you want.”

He turned in his seat, putting a gentle hand on her arm and raising his voice to a normal level. “Sara, are you all right, honey?”

Stupid question.

Sara shook her head. He moved an arm and wrapped it across her shoulders. “Come here.”

Sara turned towards Luke and let him fold his strong arms around her as she cried. She needed someone to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be all right. It didn’t matter that nothing would ever be right again. She needed the illusion.

The flight attendant reached them. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Two coffees, please.” Luke’s voice was muffled.

Sara’s sobs slowed as the cups chinked down on the tray, and she pulled back from his arms, embarrassed. What was she doing? She sat up, pulled a tissue from her pocket, and blew her nose. She pushed back into her seat. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” He handed her coffee across. “Here.”

“Thanks, Leftenant.” She took the cup, cradling it in both hands. She inhaled deeply, wrinkling her nose at the smell. It was typical airline coffee, hot and wet, with no flavor whatsoever.

“It’s Luke. We’re supposed to be married.”

Sara sipped her coffee. “I forgot.”

Luke scrunched up his face. “I know you didn’t forget, but please try to remember in future. Play along at least in public. You do know how to act, right?”

She glanced at him and nodded. “Yeah, I can act. So, tell me about yourself. How many brothers and sisters you have, your job, everything. If we’re meant to be married, I should know this stuff.”

“I was born and raised in California. Dad’s a cop, and Mom was a lawyer. I have a brother and two sisters. I’ve never wanted to do anything other than law enforcement.” He sipped his coffee. “I was the youngest officer in the history of the narcotics department to make lieutenant at twenty-seven.”

“Are you married? Other than to me, that is.”

“No.”

“Attached? Significant other?”

Luke laughed. “My brother, Darren, insists I’m married to my job, but I love my work. Besides, I have plenty of nieces and nephews to spoil. I don’t need to go finding a woman to settle down and have children with.”

“So why come over here?”

“My partner, Cheryl, died in a car accident. A drunk driver hit her on her way to work a couple of months ago. The police here asked us to liaise with them on a narc/homicide. I telecommuted for a while, but it’s gotten complicated. So here I am. I have to say, I didn’t anticipate this change of assignment when I got here.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

“What about your family?”

A fresh shaft of grief pierced her soul. “Just Aunt Mary,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

 

****

 

Sitting in the car during the drive from the airport to the small town on the coast, Luke glanced over his shoulder at Sara. She was either asleep or pretending. He yawned and returned his gaze to the front, staring out at the dark roads. There were no lights or houses or anything. A whole lot of nothing stared back at him.

Dave glanced at him. “What’s she like?”

“She’s a handful. Likes doing her own thing, hates being guarded with a passion. She is not impressed with this ‘marriage’ either.”

Dave changed lanes and overtook a truck. “I noticed. The Guv told me—”

“Guv? Who’s that?”

“Short for governor. It’s what we call the senior officer. In our case, that’s Detective Chief Inspector or DCI Shepherds. My rank gets shortened to DS.”

“Ah, thanks.”

“The Guv told us about your partner. I’m sorry.”

Luke grimaced. “Thanks. It hasn’t been easy.”

“Tell me about it. My partner transferred down tae London, two weeks ago. We’d been working taegether for ten years. It’s like losing yer right hand. I’m currently partner-less. Or I was.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The captain told me three days with the Metropolitan Police. Now I’ve been shuttled halfway across the world, not to mention the UK, to babysit someone who can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Ye picked up on that, tay, huh?”

“It’s a little hard to miss.” Luke yawned. “Sorry.”

“Dinna be, ye’ve had a long few days.” Dave turned his attention to the road.

Luke gazed out of the window at the darkness only lit by car headlights. His eyes closed despite his best effort to be sociable and stay awake. He opened them as the car came to a halt.

“Here we are.”

Luke looked out at the cottage. Lights shone from all of the downstairs windows. In the frosty darkness, it appeared warm and welcoming.

“Carole said she’d open the place up and put the heating on. She’s also organizing ye folks some dinner.”

Puzzled, Luke frowned. Had they told him this already, or not? “Carole?”

“My wife.” Dave opened his door, letting a blast of frigid air in. “We’ve been married fifteen years. She teaches at the local primary school. She’s also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.”

“That’s some achievement. Remind me not to annoy her.”

“I tell myself that every time we have an argument. And she also thinks ye guys are married. First time in fifteen years I’ve lied tae her about something.”

“I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”

“Not yer fault. First time I’ve mixed home life and the job so closely. But if it keeps Sara safe and gets Austin off the streets, it’ll be worth it.”

They got out of the car, and the men escorted Sara to the door. It opened as they reached the porch, and the smell of baked potatoes and beef poured out.

Carole was much shorter than Luke imagined. Just over five feet tall, she had short black hair and glasses. Her smile was as warm as the house. “Hello.”

Dave kissed her. “Hello, love. This is Luke and Sara Nemec. This is my wife, Carole.”

Luke shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

His first impression was how small and claustrophobic the place was compared to his apartment back in the States. He hoped he’d get used to it.

 

****

 

Sara found herself ushered inside by the men faster than she liked.

Carole gave her a beaming smile. “Let me show ye where everything is.”

Glancing across at Luke, Sara half expected him to say she had to stay within his field of vision at all times. Instead, he shot her a smile. “Go on, hon. I’ll bring the bags in.”

Sara followed Carole around the cottage. It was bigger than she thought it was. Downstairs was a kitchen, lounge, and dining room. A narrow winding staircase led up to four bedrooms and a bathroom. Only the double bed in the master bedroom had a quilt on. Hopefully, there was spare bedding somewhere.

She came down the stairs as Luke put the cases down on the hall floor. He smiled at her. “We’ll unpack later, hon.”

Sara bit her tongue as she followed him into the kitchen, hating the way he called her hon. It implied ownership. She was his nothing, and that was the way it had to stay.

Dave took Carole’s hand. “We’ll let ye settle in, Luke. I’ll come by in the morning. Organize food shopping and so on.”

“Sounds good, Dave, thanks. I’ll see you out.”

Sara turned her attention to dinner. She had it plated up and on the table by the time Luke came back in. In spite of the casserole being as tasty as it smelled and the potatoes baked to perfection, she had no appetite. She pushed the food around the plate, picking at it.

“Is something wrong with the food, Sara?”

“No, I’m not hungry tonight. Traveling tends to upset my stomach.” She took a deep breath. “The house is bigger than I thought. It’s nice and cozy. We must be near the sea because I can smell it. I’ll have to explore tomorrow. It’s too dark right now. I wouldn’t see anything.”

Luke drummed his fingers on the table. “First of all, there are a few ground rules we need to set. You will stay indoors. No phone calls. No—”

“I don’t need another lecture, thanks. I know the staying inside one by heart.” Scraping her chair back across the floor, Sara jumped to her feet. “I’ll go and make up one of the other beds.”

She ran up the winding staircase and into the other furnished bedrooms, rummaging through the wardrobes and drawers and even the airing cupboard, her frustration growing. She pushed her hair behind her ears and cried out, whirling around as the kitchen door slammed open and footsteps hurtled up the stairs. He was fast, she’d grant him that.

Luke ran into the room. “Sara? What’s wrong?”

“There are no more sheets, pillows or duvets. All we have is what is on the bed in the main bedroom.”

“Is that such a problem?”

Sara’s eyes widened in sheer horror. “Excuse me? Wife in name only, thank you, very much.”

Luke held her gaze. “If you let me finish, it’s only for the one night. All I was going to suggest was I’ll sleep in one of the other rooms. I’ll make do tonight and get more bedding tomorrow.”

“You would have thought they would have provided enough to start with.”

“Mrs. McArthur doesn’t know the truth. She thinks you’re my wife. Why would we want separate beds?”

Sara shook her head and refused to give him an answer. Turning her back on him, she headed downstairs to tackle the dishes. As she washed up, she made a point of yawning, a lot. Drying her hands, she yawned again. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Leftenant.”

“Goodnight, Sara.”

She picked her case up from the hall and carried it to the foot of the stairs.

“Do you want a hand?”

Sara glanced back at him. If he knew about the baby, he’d insist, but he didn’t, and that was the way it would stay. “No, thanks, I can manage. Just because I’m female, it doesn’t mean I’m too weak to carry my own case up a few stairs.”

Luke threw his hands up. “You know what, fine. I’m too tired to argue tonight.”

He grabbed his bags and following her up the stairs, carried them to the other bedroom.

Sara locked herself in the bathroom and had a long hot bath before returning to her room. The door to the leftenant’s room was ajar. She glanced in. He lay on the bed, using his bag as a pillow and his coat as a quilt, his Bible open in his hands.

Sara felt a stab of guilt, and tapped on the door. “Leftenant?”

Luke glanced up. Were his lips blue with cold or was it the light? “I thought I said to call me Luke.”

“This is silly. You can’t sleep like that. You’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Sara took a deep breath. She may not like the set up, but he wasn’t going to get sick on her account. “Look. It’s only for the one night, right? My bed has a top sheet and a duvet—quilt. If I sleep under the sheet, and you sleep on top of it, you can share the duvet.”

“Thank you.” Luke got up and followed her through to her room. “Which side of the bed do you want?”

“I sleep on the right.” Sara stood to one side, clutching her dressing down around her.

Luke smiled and turned his back. “You’re safe with me, Sara. I promise I won’t look.”

She hung her dressing gown over the chair, and dived into bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. “All right.”

She felt the bed give as Luke sat down and pulled off his socks. It gave more as he got in, taking care to lie on top of the sheet. She shivered, aware of his presence and the memories of having a male body that close to her evoked. She turned off the light. “Night, Leftenant.”

“Night, Sara.” He turned onto his side. It wasn’t long before his deep, regular breathing indicated he was asleep.

Sara lay there, not wanting to sleep. She’d never forget the night that brutal man pulled the trigger and ended her chance at happiness. She didn’t need to see it in her dreams as well.