I search the crowd for Lana. I find her in the third row, her face pale, her hands clasped tightly. She looks shocked. Grief-stricken. Perfect.
Luke leans close, his mouth against my ear. “She’s good,” he breathes.
I nod, sick with the knowledge of what we know, what we can’t say.
The police officer steps up, explains where Murphy was last seen, and asks for tips. The word“missing”hangs in the air, feeling wrong and heavy. She isn’t missing. She’s dead. Dismembered. Only the killer knows where her body is hidden.
And Lana sits three rows from the front, playing her part, while we sit in the back with our secrets.
Chapter Twenty-Four
LUKE
Ilean against my truck with my arms crossed, watching through the large glass windows of the mechanic shop. Madeline is in the office, bent over paperwork, her hair falling across her face. She looks tired, but she’s still as beautiful as ever.
The side door opens from the shop into the office, and Joey strolls in. Madeline lifts her head, giving him a smile as the asshat leans on her desk. I watch his mouth move, and a half a beat later, Madeline is laughing. My jaw tightens. I hate that he can bring out that side of her. I know it’s absurd and that my thoughts are barbaric when it comes to her.
I watch, forcing myself to stay put. While we have been busy the past few days with school, her job, and hockey, we’ve still managed to hang out. I’ve made progress with Madeline, and the last time I went into the mechanic shop like a bull, it hadn’t earned me any points with her. That said, if he moves any closer, all bets are off.
I keep watching them through the glass. He stays too long, finds reasons to touch the papers she’s holding, and points at her computer screen to lean closer. She doesn’t pull away. That’s because she doesn’t see what he is, but I fucking know. His niceguy act isn’t fooling me. He wants what’s mine. Over my dead body.
Finally, he leaves, heading back toward the shop area. I push off the truck and circle around back. He and I are going to have a word, only I’m making sure Madeline doesn’t see it this time.
The garage doors are open, and the shop is emptying out for the day. I find him in the backyard, playing on his phone.
He looks up, surprised. It quickly turns wary. Smart.
“Luke.” He slips his phone into his pocket. Does he have Madeline’s number? I’m sure he does since she works there. “Help you with something?”
“I don’t buy your good-boy act,” I tell him, stepping closer, crowding him against the workbench, using my size to scare the shit out of him. “The helpful local. The nice guy. I know what you are.” I might not be from Charming, but I’ve gone to school here for years. I don’t pay much attention to gossip because normally I don’t care, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear shit.
His jaw tightens. “You don’t know shit about me, rich boy.”
“I know you stare a little too long at my girl. Make up bullshit reasons to talk to her. Whatever you got in that head of yours about her, you need to forget it. It’s not happening.” I lean in, voice dropping to a growl. “Or I’ll knock it the fuck out of your skull myself.”
Joey doesn’t back down. I see it in his eyes—a mix of anger and calculation, if I’m reading him right. “Madeline’s too good for you.”
“I know.” Predictable retort. I give him a cold, sharp smile. “But she’s still mine.”
We stare each other down, the threat hanging in the air. He looks away first.
“Glad we understand each other. Don’t make me come back because I won’t say it again.” I turn and walk back to the front,making sure I’m leaning against my truck like nothing happened when the bell above the door rings. Madeline steps out.
She’s pulled her hair back. There is a small smudge of grease on her cheek. She lights up when she sees me, making my chest tighten. No one’s face has ever lit up that way when they saw me standing there.
“Hey,” she says, crossing the street. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long.” I reach for her, pull her close, and kiss her hard enough that Joey will see if he’s watching from the window, making my message all the clearer to him. “Brought dinner.”
Her eyes widen. “You didn’t have to?—”
“I wanted to.” I open the passenger door and help her in.
“You’re obsessed with me eating.” Yeah, I didn’t expect that either, but I find myself needing to make sure she eats and that she gets good sleep. It’s a compulsion I can’t stop. The need to take care of her overwhelms most of my thoughts throughout the days lately.
“Taking care of my girl.” That gets me another smile. I lean in and kiss her one more time before I shut the door and go around to the driver’s side. “There’s a place I want to show you. We can eat there.”
“Sounds good.” She pulls out her phone, and I know she’s texting Georgia to let her know. I reach over and put my hand on her thigh as we fall into easy conversation. We both stay away from the murder shit.
