InSight

can tell us, Abby?” Pete asked.
    “The car has a low carriage, front bucket seats with tattered seat covers, four doors, child locks, and I think it’s got a bad muffler. Sorry, don’t know the color.”
    “Most sighted people wouldn’t get that far,” Pete said.
    “He said he was released from a hospital.”
    “He escaped,” Luke said. “Walked out weeks ago wearing a doctor’s coat and carrying enough medication for a month or two. Who knows if he’s taking it?”
    She clutched Luke’s arm. “Has he hurt anyone?”
    “Not that we know.”
    She told Luke what Stewart said about the intruder the night Daisy was hurt.
    “Do you believe him?”
    Do I? Do I believe him? “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Everyone’s lied. Lucy lied—for eight years. Talk about being kept in the dark. Why?”
    Luke hesitated. “You’ll have to talk to her about that. I don’t want to get between you and your mother. She thought the lie protected you. I don’t know if she was right or wrong.”
    “I’d better call to let her know I’m all right.”
    “What’s the number?” Pete asked.
    Abby reeled off the number and heard the tones as Pete punched them in. Luke leaned forward, got the phone, and put it in Abby’s hand. She told Lucy she was okay but she cut her off when she tried to explain about Stewart. “Not now,” Abby said. Then she told Luke and Pete some of what she and Stewart talked about, withholding the brew of emotions that obscured all common sense.
    Pete cleared Abby’s house when they arrived, said he’d get back in touch later, and drove off. Luke had parked at Abby’s the night before and slept in his car, waiting in case she showed up. With a man sleeping in a car in front of her house and two men bringing her home in the early morning, the neighbors were probably ready to dish her up over coffee as daily gossip. Well, too bad. She never cared much what people thought, and she wouldn’t start now.
    * * * * *
    L uke led Abby into the house and made her sit down while he filled Daisy’s water bowl. Then he sat by her side and took her in his arms. She fit into him perfectly. He wanted to hold her forever, right there in that spot. He thought about her escape and the guts it took to pull it off. He doubted he possessed that kind of courage—not many people did. He pulled off the band that held her ponytail and ran his fingers through her loose hair. “There, that’s better.”
    She eked out a weak smile.
    When he had arrived at the raft rental dock, Abby was shivering. The two guys who ran the place had given her coffee inside their warm shack. She’d skirted around the story of what a blind woman was doing walking with her dog at sunrise, and they didn’t ask any questions. Luke suspected they weren’t thrilled about cops in their midst and figured they probably had a stash of pot on the premises. He thanked them for their help and read their relieved expressions when all the cops got in their cars to leave.
    Luke sensed Abby held back things. Maybe words she’d shared with Stewart, maybe feelings. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—prod her to tell him, even though he ached to know. Maybe she’d confide in him later. She’d learned some hard facts the last two days that shed a new light on past events: her ex-husband’s resurrection and her mother’s deception, plus whatever she chose not to divulge. She needed time to get it straight in her mind.
    “I behaved badly the other night,” he said, bringing up the wedge he’d driven between them. “I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me out. I hope you don’t, because it had nothing to do with you. I want you to know that.” He touched her cheek. “It’s that your barrage of questions brought up things I’d rather not talk about. Maybe later, but not now.”
    Her lips didn’t move, and a long moment of insecurity stabbed Luke’s insides. Did he use the wrong tone, clip his words? He wasn’t sure by her reaction. Her words were easier to read than her emotions.
    “Bottom line, Abby, you scare the bejesus out of me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone or opened up like I have with you. I sat in front of the computer the next day at work and wondered if I was man enough to be with someone who knew me so well.”
    “Are you?”
    “Honestly? I don’t know. What I do know is that when I thought your life was in danger, I realized that my life without you in it would leave an emptiness I couldn’t fill.”
    * * *