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Catherine shook her head. “No, I don’t believe that at all. Luke has been a rock here, and if he shatters now, then he shatters. But that doesn’t change the fine man he is.”
“Love!” Dave fumed, and clearly exasperated that she would defend Luke, he walked away with a long, brisk stride.
Catherine wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth. She missed Luke terribly, ached for him, but the thought of him moving to the East Coast was so unexpected, she didn’t know what to do.
Maybe what he needed was a complete change of scene, but what she needed was the man she knew him to be. Fearing his departure might be imminent, she could no longer justify waiting to tell him about the baby. She just hadn’t expected to be forced to do it that day.
Pam would be gone before the end of Luke’s afternoon session, and rather than go hom
e at four, she would stay and wait for a private conversation with him. She doubted anything he could say would equal her fears, but just getting the dreaded confession over with would be a relief.
She tried to stand and still felt too shaken to walk. She sat to rest a moment longer and wished someone would bring her a strawberry shake.
Shortly before four o’clock, Pam Strobble crossed the street to Toby’s house. After quickly admiring the stunning mural, she drew Catherine aside.
“The detectives just picked up Luke for questioning,” she whispered.
“My God, have they arrested him?”
“No, but I don’t like it. He told me to cancel his afternoon session, but I’ve always wanted to lead it myself, and with everything going to hell here, I might as well. Could you cover the office for me until five?”
“Sure, I’ll be happy to. I wanted to speak with Luke anyway. What time do you suppose he’ll be back?”
Pam just shook her head. “There’s no way to tell, but my husband and I have tickets for a play we’ve waited a long time to see, so I can’t stay and wait.”
“I’ll stay,” Catherine promised.
As soon as the teenagers had cleaned up for the day, she moved her car into the Lost Angel lot and parked it next to Luke’s. She then left a note under his windshield wiper asking him to stop by the office before he left for home.
With telephone calls to field, her first hour in the office went quickly, but once Pam had left for the day, it was unnaturally quiet. Occasionally she would hear the sound of a horn from the street, but otherwise the office was silent. She walked around, stretched and tried to compose a coherent sentence for an opening with Luke, but none of her efforts made much sense.
Another hour had passed before she went into Luke’s office and sat in his chair. She wished she had Violet’s telephone number so she could check up on the shy girl herself. Thinking Luke might keep it in his desk, she slowly slid open the middle drawer, but it contained only an assortment of pencils of varying sizes, pens, a few rubber bands, paper clips and a box of Band-Aids.
She understood why he might need his own personal stash of bandages, but it still made her laugh. There were three more drawers on the right, but the first two held only additional office supplies. About to give up, she yanked out the deep lower drawer.
At first she was merely startled to find a tangle of red satin, but a quick inspection proved it to be a cocktail dress. A long blond wig had been hidden beneath it, and a pair of dark panty hose, and red heels lay at the bottom of the drawer.
Horrified, Catherine shoved everything back into place and slammed the drawer shut with a force that shook the whole desk. The Lady in Red’s disguise had been described to her often enough for her to recognize it at a glance, but that there could be only one explanation for Luke to have it made her ill.
She stood and would have run from the office, but Dave was blocking the door.
“I think you better sit down again,” he urged softly. “We need to talk.”
Unwilling to return to Luke’s place, Catherine collapsed into her usual chair, but she couldn’t stop shaking. Luke had always been so convincing, but dear God, was he truly a murderer?
She looked up at Dave, but his expression was far too serious to offer even a glimmer of hope.
Chapter Nineteen
Dave leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his black Doors T-shirt. “I was running the vacuum cleaner in here last night and the cord caught on the corner of Luke’s desk. I opened the bottom drawer to free it and discovered what I think you just did. Scary as hell, isn’t it?”
Catherine shuddered. “I just want to get out of here.”
“I don’t blame you, but I don’t know what to do, and I need your help. I’m furious with Luke for the way he treated you, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him tried for murder.”
“I can’t believe Luke murdered anyone.” Yet even as she spoke the words, she recalled his steely strength and the fire of his temper. But she refused to brand him a serial killer.
“I don’t want to believe it, either, but those sure aren’t Luke’s running shoes in that drawer.”
