Pretend You're Mine(127)

He slammed the letter onto the counter and started to pace. This couldn’t be the first letter. There must be others ...

Her boxes. Back in the dining room, Luke tore the lid off of the innocuous “Paperwork” box. In the very front was a folder labeled SCI Letters. Dozens of letters opened, filed chronologically starting when Harper was 18. Luke resisted the urge to heave the entire box through the window.

That fucker. Every letter was signed “Daddy.” He had caught up with her every move since she had aged out of the foster system. Blaming her for his sentence. It had to be the cigarette burns. This man had physically hurt Harper until he was caught and then spent years trying to torture her psychologically.

There were five other letters in the box sent to his address. Three while he was deployed. But the other most recent one was just days before Thanksgiving. She had never said a word.

Except ... she had tried.

“Luke, can I talk to you about something? It’s kind of important.”

He had been sitting on the couch, pissed off at himself, pretending it was her, and had shrugged at her. Just shrugged because he was angry and scared.

She had faltered, but tried to press on. “Something happened and I’m a little worried —”

He had cut her off and cold-bloodedly proceeded to cut her out of his life. In the exact moment when she was reaching out to him for help, he pushed her away.

She had trusted him and he had betrayed that trust on so many levels. And now she was alone.

He swiped a hand over face and cursed himself. What had he done?

He needed a name and thought of the Victim Services letter. Well, he had already opened one of her letters. Why stop now?

It was a form letter stating that as a victim of Clive Perry, Harper was entitled to be aware that he was due to be released from prison on December 18 after having served his full prison sentence.

Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

“Hey, we have a situation.”





CHAPTER FIFTY


“You know when I saw it was you I was expecting you were calling to apologize,” Ty drawled, kicking back in his desk chair. “Then when you said you had a situation, I thought you were calling to tell me that you were driving around with Linc’s body in the back of your truck.”

Luke shifted in Ty’s visitors’ chair. The station smelled like stale coffee and old books. “I do owe you an apology and I haven’t killed anyone. Yet.” He dropped Harper’s folder on Ty’s desk. “Harper’s in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Luke filled him in on the details he knew. Ty gave a low whistle when he’d finished. “Sounds like our girl’s in a bad spot.”

“How can we keep this asshole from getting out?”

“I’m gonna look into it. But Luke, in the eyes of the law, this Perry guy has served his time.” He skimmed the letter on top of the file. “How about you give me some time to run Harper and this guy through the system? I want to read these letters, too. Why don’t you go get us a couple of coffees and meet me back here in half an hour?”

“Just so you know, this guy never gets near her. No matter what.”

“I understand what you’re saying and we’ll cross that bridge when we have to. Now go get some coffee. Two sugars in mine.”

Luke got coffee and, because it was almost time for dinner, a pizza. The late afternoon sun glinted off of the small mounds of snow on Main Street. You couldn’t get more quintessential than Main Street in Benevolence at Christmas. Sunday, the caroling would start in the park near the Christmas tree and wind its way through the neighborhoods before ending at the fire station for hot chocolate and a toy and clothing drive. Balancing the cup carrier on top of the pizza box, Luke nodded a greeting to his high school math teacher and his wife on their way to the second-run theater. He waved hello to Sheila from Remo’s when she whistled at him from across the street.

No one was a stranger here, no matter how often he wished he could be. Walking down the idyllic street under the snowflake lights and garland strung over anything that would hold still gave residents the feeling that nothing bad could ever happen here.

But bad things did happen, even in Benevolence. Luke just hoped he could prevent this one.

When he pushed back into the station, he was greeted with a blast of warm air and silence. Alma, the sheriff’s wife and station office manager, had headed home for the day so Luke let himself in and walked back to Ty’s office.

Ty was just hanging up the phone when Luke walked in.

“Pizza, coffee, and I got to punch you in the face? This must be my lucky day.”

Luke dumped the pie on the desk and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, about that.”