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“You’d be surprised,” she remarked wistfully. “But now that we have a minute, tell me something. Is there really a chance Art Center will offer Rafael a scholarship?”
Toby slammed the Volvo’s rear door shut and stepped back up on the curb. “I think so. Nowadays, lots of kids are into computer animation and dreaming up wild, interactive games. To have Rafael walk in with such exquisite drawings just blew them away.”
“Good. I’d like for him to have that opportunity. Could you check with Art Center? If for some reason they can’t swing a scholarship for him, then one can be arranged through a private donor.”
Toby stared at her as though she’d just sprouted a second head. “Are you talking about yourself? Have you really got that kind of money?”
“Let’s just say I enjoy donating to a good cause. Thank you again for the cat. Now, it’s been a rough week, and I need to get home.”
Toby closed the slight distance between them. “Why not stay here with me? I can promise you a memorable night.”
He was a damnably attractive man, but his seductive invitation didn’t even tempt her. “Don’t you ever give up?”
“Not when I see something I want, and I’ve wanted you from the day you and Luke wandered up on my porch. Why do you think I was so eager to have you paint the mural here?”
In Catherine’s mind, it was a short leap from choosing his house for the mural and needlessly putting kids at risk for a drive-by shooting. Unwilling to go there, she just shook her head.
“I’m going home before I say something I’ll regret.” She already had her keys in her hand and hurriedly walked around to the driver’s side of her car.
Toby remained on the curb and watched her drive away.
Without the sweet memories of Saturday night with Luke to soothe her longing, Sunday was impossibly lonely for Catherine. Too anxious to read or even iron in front of the television, she put her new metal cat out by her front porch and then worked in her yard until the flower beds were completely free of weeds.
Forced inside at sunset, she studied the duplicate sets of photographs she’d taken at Lost Angel and laid those of Luke aside. While there were a couple she planned to enlarge, she was in no danger of forgetting the man she adored. She’d never told him she loved him, but she wouldn’t give up hope that one day soon, those would be the exact words he longed to hear.
She recalled seeing only one framed portrait at Luke’s place, and rather than his beloved daughter, it had been the drawing Rafael had done of her. She hoped it still sat on his dresser as a constant reminder she hadn’t been the one to walk away.
With Dave and Pam handling the holiday cards from the contest artwork, once the mural was finished, she would have no excuse to return to Lost Angel. It pained her to think after that day, her path would never cross with Luke’s.
Next Saturday she would take the CBEST test and with any luck, she would pass and be able to teach, but now she was no longer eager for a job. Instead, she wanted to stay at home and concentrate on being a mother for a year or two. She couldn’t plan any further, but knowing every child deserved a happy life, she hoped the future would bring her and her baby something good.
Luke had stayed home on Saturday night and gotten drunk. When he awoke Sunday morning with a wicked hangover, he poured himself another stiff drink to ease himself into the day. He was too smart not to recognize his behavior as self-destructive, but he simply didn’t care.
Life had become so bleak that he no longer wished to live it. Then he would think of Catherine, as he did every few seconds, and
he refused to torture her with the death of another lover. He’d been cold to the point of cruelty to break up with her, and yet she’d responded with a promise never to turn him away. The generosity of her undeserved offer haunted him.
He would have welcomed fierce anger, but that she still wanted him gouged a deep furrow in his soul. Awash in self-loathing, he poured out every bottle of liquor he had in his condo and forced himself to go out and run.
He felt sick clear through by the time he returned home and slept without waking until Monday morning. Then he had the challenge of cleaning himself up so he didn’t resemble death warmed over, but he left home afraid he’d failed. He would push himself through the day, and the next, but he knew he’d lost the ability to lead and would soon have to resign from Lost Angel.
That same morning, Detective Salzman crossed the street to summon Catherine to the Lost Angel office. “We have some news you ought to hear. I’d like you to come with me.”
Her authoritative tone convinced Catherine she had no choice, but she waved to Toby to let him know she was leaving, and that he’d be in charge. “Have you found out who killed Nick?” she asked.
“We’re working on it,” the taciturn detective replied.
Catherine was more eager to see Luke than hear about their investigation if they were no closer to arresting the killer than they had been on Saturday. She followed Salzman into the office where Pam, Luke, Dave and Detective Garcia were already gathered.
Catherine exchanged hellos with Pam and Dave, but she could only stare at Luke. He was noticeably thinner, which sharpened his handsome features, but it worried her to think he wasn’t well. When he refused to glance her way, she smiled at Garcia.
“Now that you’ve joined us, Mrs. Brooks, I hope we’ll have greater success at reaching the truth. A man named Ford Dolan was murdered near here Friday night.”
“Murdered?” Catherine gasped.
“Good, I see you knew him too. It looks like the work of the Lady in Red, but this time no one saw her. She kicked Ford’s body back into his apartment, so it wasn’t discovered until Sunday afternoon when a neighbor reported a peculiar odor coming from the apartment.”
Catherine shuddered. “How awful.”
