Page 36 of Dead Drift

“Kate!” Gabe called.

Kate stared at him, her heart racing, and then she scanned the area around her. How had Luke disappeared so fast?

“Miss Katie!” Trevor, Gabe’s five-year-old son, ran to her.

Travis, the toddler, waddled behind his brother.

She bent, giving the boys big hugs. “Hey, kiddos, what’s up?” She tickled them and the boys giggled.

“Just shopping with Dad.”

She looked up at Gabe. “Where’s Mara?”

“I gave her a day off from mommy duty.”

“That’s nice.”

“She deserves it with these two always bubbling over with energy.” He swooped his boys up in his arms, pressing zerberts to their cheeks. They wiggled and squirmed, and sweet laughter filled the air.

She glanced around again, getting back to her feet. Where had Luke gone?

“How are things with you?” Gabe asked, his gaze a bit too appraising. He shared Luke’s gift for quickly sizing up people and their emotional state.

“Good. Busy, but good.”

“We’re headed for the food court and Chik-fil-A. Care to join us? It’s been a while since we’ve caught up.”

“Thanks,” she said, “but I’ve got to be going. I’m meeting a friend.” She swallowed.

“No worries. You’ll have to come down for a bonfire dinner soon. It’s been too long.” Gabe and Mara threw the best bonfire cookouts on the Mid-Atlantic coast. She had been so thankful when Luke’s family insisted on keeping in touch after Luke’s disappearance. She supposed it had partially been their way of keeping the hope of his return alive, but she also believed they’d already considered her family—and she felt the same way about them.

“That would be great,” she said, inching toward the exterior door. Perhaps Luke had darted out to the car.

“I’ll have Mara call you,” Gabe said, his furrowed brow indicating he knew she wasn’t herself.

“Great. Thanks,” she said, hurrying outside.

The cold, exhaust-filled air of the parking structure wafted over her, and she jumped as Luke’s hand clamped on her arm.

“Where did you go, and how . . . ?”

He remained silent, striding purposefully for the car. He held her door open, shut it behind her, and jumped in. Starting the engine, he streaked out of the spot.

Kate caught a glimpse of Margaret or Lauren or whatever her name was as they rounded the bend. The woman stared at them like a cat watching its lunch fluttering around the cage in front of it.

She turned back to Luke. “What is going on?”

Luke’s chest constricted, his breaths short and shallow. Why was he so hot? He cranked down his window an inch. He needed some air.

His brother.

His nephews.

Mere feet away.

And Lauren, not surprisingly, waiting for them around the bend.

“Like I said, Lauren Graham—which I believe is her real name—is dangerous. You can’t trust her, can’t trust anyone new who enters your life right now. People often aren’t who they seem, at least not in the arena where I live and work.”