Page 63 of Secrets Bared
“Maggie?”
She stood frozen over a small box on the floor of the kitchen, her hands over her mouth, and her eyes wide. Shorty got there first, and bent over to see what had frightened her. “Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker!”
Luke startled. Shorty hardly ever swore. “What is it?”
Katya stood next to Maggie, her hands twisting in her apron. “It’s a … dead squirrel.”
“Not just dead.” Shorty closed the box and removed it from Maggie’s line of sight. He was paler than usual, his sepia skin looking a little gray. Shorty took a look at Maggie, then slashed his hand across his neck and mouthed the word, “Decapitated.”
What the hell? Luke’s brain started firing as to what they should do. “Put it outside but don’t get rid of it just yet. The cops may need it as evidence. Katya, can you take care of the tables while I get her settled?” Katya nodded, her blonde ponytail moving up and down.
Slowly, Luke slid in front of Maggie. “Maggie, are you with us?” No answer. Her green eyes were wide and distant, and she trembled from head to toe. Luke waved a hand a few inches from her chalk-white face. “Maggie? I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.”
Ragged gasping shook her frame even more.
“Mags, can I touch your shoulders?”
Her eyes snapped to his, and she gave him a shaky nod. Gently, Luke rubbed her shoulders, and her arms dropped to wrap around her middle. He stepped into her and wrapped her in a loose hug as he murmured soothing words. She buried her face in his chest, and he took it as permission to wrap her up tighter.
“I got you, sweetheart, You’re safe.” He stroked her back up and down with one hand. Tears soaked his apron and uniform shirt, but Luke couldn’t care less. He pressed his lips to her head and rocked ever so slightly.
When she seemed calmer, he pulled back enough to look at her face. “Do you want to take this into the office?” She nodded, and he kept one arm around her as they maneuvered down the hall.
Shorty tugged on his sleeve before he could follow her. “We need to call the police.”
Luke shook his head, thinking of the way he’d been brushed aside. “Call the sheriff’s office. She’s met Gabe before.”
The elder cook just raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to invite trouble? Who knows how long it’ll take them to come down here? Plus, we’re literally steps from the Hawthorn Hills station. The sheriff won’t send anyone for this.”
Shit. Shorty was right. Luke tried to remember which of his classmates had also gone into law enforcement. “Does Mari MacDonald still work there?”
Shorty nodded. “Yup, she’s still there.”
Luke scrubbed a hand over his face. “Ask for her. I know she’s a good one.”
The look on Shorty’s face made him pause. “Whatchu sayin’, Luke?”
Ugh. He shouldn’t have said a thing. Looking through the door, which she’d left slightly ajar, he could see Maggie just standing there, wringing her hands. “I can’t talk about it. It has no bearing on this anyway, just… see if Mari’s on duty? I’m sure she’d be more comfortable with another woman.” Once Shorty nodded, Luke grasped his shoulder in thanks and went inside.
In his mom’s office, he sat down on the office chair and gently drew Maggie into his lap. They sat there, the silence thick around them. Shorty stuck his head in. “Cops are on their way,”
“Thanks, Shorty.” Shorty nodded and shut the door.
Luke rubbed Maggie’s back. “Maggie? Talk to me, sweetheart.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please.”
She swiped at her face, and he handed her the box of tissues. “I… I think I have a stalker.”
Luke closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, tempering his reaction. “Do you have an idea who it could be?”
Maggie wiped her face with the tissues. “I… I don’t know for sure.”
Her eyes darted away, giving away the lie. She suspected someone. For some reason, she wanted to keep it from him. Luke’s heart sank. He hadn’t fully earned her trust yet, but he wasn’t going to push. “Everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”
Nodding, she leaned back against him, and he reveled in the knowledge that she at least trusted him to comfort her, even if she didn’t trust him with the truth.
Not like you’re trusting her with the truth, either…the little voice inside his head reminded him. But that was different. He couldn’t jeopardize the investigation. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.
The embarrassment was real, though. And he understood that was true for her as well, taking in her flushed cheeks and her downcast gaze.
