Chapter 11

Dinner

Thursday

While Maggie checked to see whether their friend Adrian Matthews possessed a record, Lucas checked the files sent over from missing persons. Three girls had been reported missing who matched the descriptions of the victims. The first file Lucas opened contained information on a blonde girl about the right age but she wasn’t tall like Elle. He put the file to the side, as he couldn’t discount her yet.

He opened the second file and the face staring up at him caught his breath. If he didn’t have Chelsea’s face etched into his memory, he would have thought it was her photo in the file. Even though the missing girl’s eyes were blue, everything else about her matched Chelsea. Her listed measurements showed she was a waif of a girl and her hair was long and dark. Lucas glanced across at her name and stopped.

“Maggie,” he said, not believing his eyes. “Did Laura at the café say that a girl named Lindsay came to the coffee shop?”

“Yeah, she said her sleazy boss had been trying to go out with her. Why?”

“I think I’m looking at her.”

“She’s missing?”

“Yep.”

“Since when?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“That was reported fast.”

“According to the notes, she was very career orientated so when she didn’t turn up for work her mother became concerned. She too left her possessions behind.” He paused to look up at Maggie before returning them to the file. “She never leaves the house without her phone. Her mum reported her missing because she knew this was unlike her daughter.”

“And with the murders all over the news ...” Maggie added.

“She grew very concerned, which is lucky for us. We have an early heads up.”

“Well, well, we might be able to bring Mr. Matthews in after all. Now with this, along with the fact he has a record ...”

“What for?”

“Violating a restraining order his ex-girlfriend took out against him.”

“Print out his photo.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“After seeing this photo of Lindsay, I’m starting to believe your theory about the resemblance to Chelsea,” he said, showing Maggie the photo. “I would like to show her his picture, see if she knows him. On the way there, I’ll visit Lindsay’s mum and show her the photo of Matthews, follow up with some questions.”

“Show Chelsea the other girls’ photos too, just in case.”

“Will do,” he said grabbing Libby, Kate and Lindsay’s photos before retrieving the photo of Adrian Matthews, which had just come off the printer.

“While you do that, I might talk to the other staff at the café to see if I can track some of Matthews’ movements. We can compare notes in the morning if you want,” she said, looking at her watch. “I’d also better go home for dinner or my husband might forget what I look like.”

* * *

Chelsea’s stomach rumbled and she realised she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. After Lucas had left her reeling, she’d decided to take her frustrations out on the weeding and pruning. It was simply too difficult to think about either Elle or Lucas. She did, however, place a bouquet of cut flowers in Elle’s room and several more around the house, which lifted her mood slightly.

She was heading towards the kitchen to scrape something together for dinner, when the doorbell rang for the fourth time that day.

Again she hesitated to answer it. Get a grip, she told herself. You can’t refuse to answer your own door.

And there was Lucas again. His hair was damp and unruly and he smelt like the ocean breeze. Instead of a suit, as he’d worn earlier in the day, he had on a green t-shirt which clung to his broad shoulders. One hand was thumbing his jeans while the other held a file. His crooked smile and luminous hazel eyes took her breath away.

“Hi. Your garden still looks great.” His intense scrutiny of her face sent tingles through her body.

“Thanks. It was a good way of escaping …. everything,” she replied.

“Smells good in there too,” he said, nodding his head towards the living room.

“Oh, I brought some of the flowers inside and threw them together.”

He peered over her shoulder. “They look great. You have a knack for throwing them together,” he said still smiling and staring at her with those amber eyes.

“Thanks. Um, would you like to come in?’

“Yeah, thanks. I’m sorry to intrude but I have some photos to show you. I guess they could have waited till tomorrow but I also wanted to apologise for this morning.”

“What for, for kissing me or apologising for it?” she asked with the frosty look he was beginning to become familiar with.

“The second option.”

She smiled and her emerald eyes softened.

“I was just about to make some dinner. Have you eaten?”

“No, not yet. I went home and got changed, then came here so I guess I haven’t got around to it.”

“Would you like to join me? It won’t be much, just whatever I can throw together.”

“You throw things together so well, I’m sure it’ll be great.” His eyes twinkled and her breath stopped, again. “Anything would be good right now.” It was hard to stay mad at him.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked as she led him out to the kitchen.

“A beer would be great, if you have one.”

“Sure do.”

She pulled one from the fridge, twisted off the top and handed it to him. He touched her hand as he took the drink. The stormy look in her eyes quickened his pulse. How was he going to keep his hands off her? How could he look at those lips and not kiss her again? Did she just ask me something?

“Sorry, I missed that?” he said, pulling his eyes away from her lips.

“What do you need to show me?”

“Oh, it can wait.”

“No, let’s get it out the way and then we might be able to enjoy dinner together.” She smiled.

“Ok, if you’re sure.”

She nodded, so he pulled the photos from the file he was carrying.

“This is Libby and Kate they were …um, do you recognise them?

Chelsea looked at them intently while he did the same to her. When she looked up he looked down at the photos.

“No, they don’t look familiar to me. Sorry.”

“That’s ok. How about Lindsay?” he asked putting her photo down next to the others.

They both stared intently at different things again.

“No, I’m afraid I’m not much help.” She tightened her lips.

“It’s ok. I didn’t expect you to know them. We aren’t sure how they are connected yet. I have one more for you and then we can try and forget about it for the evening.”

He placed the photo of Adrian Matthews on the counter.

“I’ve seen him before,” she stated. “I’m not sure where.”

She thought for a moment. “Wait, I know, the café,” she said as she remembered. “One day, a week or so before I went away, Elle and I were having lunch at the café. She kept glancing toward the kitchen, like she was looking for someone, then he,” she pointed to the picture, “came out and she waved to him. I asked her who he was and she said ‘Just a cute guy that works here’ and I didn’t push further. I can’t believe I didn’t remember that before, when you asked me about the café.”

“That’s ok. It happens a lot, especially when people are in shock.” He looked into her eyes. “This is why we show people photos because sometimes it reminds them of the little things they might have forgotten or thought weren’t important. What you told me is helpful.”

“Do you think it’s him?”

“Not sure yet but we’re looking at him. Just wondering also if you have a recent photo of yourself?”

“Why do you need that?”

“Just in relation to Elle’s case.”

Her eyes studied his for a moment before she pulled out an album from a cupboard and removed a photo.

“It’s not very recent.”

“It’ll do thanks.” She gave him another quizzical look before returning the album.

Lucas decided to change the subject and picked up the photos. “So what are you cooking up for me?”

* * *

While Chelsea cooked, he decided to divert her attention away from murder by asking about her family. Her eyes lit up and Lucas was glad he’d asked.

“When my Dad was twelve, my grandparents retired and bought a house in Tidwell. They wanted to enjoy their retirement in a small town community and away from busy city life. My Pa was a psychiatrist and my Nan a midwife. She died about five years ago. They worked hard and invested wisely, enabling them to retire at an early age. My Dad is the local doctor and my Mum the vet, so they are both well known and respected. I grew up knowing most of the townspeople.” She paused and blushed. “Sorry I’m babbling.”

“No, please, go on. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” He wanted her to keep talking. He enjoyed watching her speak with renewed vigour in her eyes which were shining greener than ever. She was doing things to him he’d never experienced before. He ignored the warnings in his head.

“Yes, Charlotte is two years younger than me and is studying to be a vet. She works part time with our mum. Hayden is ten years younger and a typical fifteen year old. Doesn’t say much. I guess he never really has. Charlotte and Hayden are very much the opposite. She is confident and outgoing whereas he is very shy and reserved. I guess I’m kind of in between. Charlotte talks too much and Hayden not enough. At the moment though, I think I would give my sister a run for her money. I feel ... comfortable with you I guess.”

She blushed again, almost provoking him to throw caution to the wind. Almost.

“I don’t mind. I’m a good listener. Part of the job criteria.”

“I don’t see them as often as I should or want to. Our busy lives seem to get in the way.”

“I completely understand. I work too much too.”

He watched her as she finished dinner and served up. His heart threatened to leap from his chest. He just wanted to touch her again.

She poured herself a wine and refreshed his drink and, once they were seated, asked him about his family. At first his face went blank, then a look of utter sorrow passed over it so that she deeply regretted asking.

She makes me want to tell her. I need to tell her.

“My parents are both dead and my sister lives about half an hour out of the city,” he said in a flat tone, not looking up.

She gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. It was a long time ago. It’s part of the reason I became a cop actually.” He brought his eyes to hers and found himself telling her the rest, without even thinking. The words just poured out.

“I was seventeen when it happened. I was ... at a friend’s and was going to the electronics store my parents owned afterwards, to help my Dad with his stock take.” He cleared his throat but the hurt was still in his voice, in his eyes.

“I called out to them as I came in the back door but there was no reply. I felt something sticky on the floor and that is when I saw the blood...” He trailed off and dropped his eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me any more,” she said in a whisper, touching his hand.

“I want to.” He was surprised by how much he wanted to. “I saw my Dad’s feet sticking out from behind a box and, as I walked around, well I was never going to be prepared for what I saw. Both he and my mother had had their throats cut for one day’s takings and some electrical goods.”

He stopped. She dropped her fork.

“They never caught who did it. Carrie, my older sister, and I moved into a small apartment. I joined the force; she started a hairdressing business and got married.” He looked up to discover tears running down her face. “Oh God, I’m so insensitive. How could I tell you that today?”

“I’m not crying about Elle, Lucas. I’m crying for you.”

She reached across the table a second time and put her hand onto his clenched fist, leaving it there this time.

He liked the feel of her soft hand on his. “It’s okay. Like I said it was a long time ago. My sister has always been my rock and she has two beautiful kids, who I adore.” He smiled and the hurt from his eyes vanished. He unclenched his fists. “It’s ok. Please don’t cry.”

“I just couldn’t imagine …”

“I guess that is why I have been so …”

“Curt?”

“Putting it nicely. This investigation has got to me some.” His lips thinned.

“Well,” she said, trying to brighten the mood. “I think today calls for chocolate cake.”

“You have some?” His nose crinkled delectably.

“Well of course. I bought it yesterday in case Elle came home ...”

“I’m so sorry, Chelsea. If I had listened to you ...”

“It’s not your fault. There was probably nothing you could have done anyway. Come on, let’s have some cake on the balcony. You thought the view was good during the day.”

* * *

They sat in comfortable silence admiring the view while Lucas sneaked glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Little did he know that not only had she noticed, but she was doing the same.

After he had finished his dessert, Lucas placed his plate on the table, looked at his watch and stood up abruptly.

“It’s late. I should go.”

They went downstairs and stood at the door, neither in any hurry to end the evening. He pulled out a business card and gave it to her.

“If you need anything, ring me, anytime. Thanks for dinner.” He turned to leave.

“I think I like this Lucas much better,” she said quietly and he almost didn’t hear her.

He turned to her as she stood on her tip toes to offer him a brief kiss on the cheek. He groaned. All his composure shattered like glass on a tiled floor.

In one swift motion he scooped her up into a powerful embrace and devoured her mouth, his tongue teasing hers. One hand dove into her hair to stop and cup her head, to pull her in closer. The other circled her waist to clasp her tight against his body. He deepened the kiss, pouring all his desire and passion from his mouth to hers.

Her body tingled all over as she reached up to touch his face before running her fingers through his hair. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her hands deeper in his waves, clasping it now, drawing him closer.

Having her legs wrapped round him was almost too much for him to endure. If he didn’t stop now, he never would. Feeling her body tight against his made him dizzy. He pulled his head back but didn’t put her down.

“If we don’t stop, I will not be responsible for what happens next,” he said hoarsely.

“Me neither,” she purred.

“Chelsea, as much as it pains me to say this, I think we should stop. I don’t want rush in, do anything too soon ... not with you.”

And suddenly he knew he meant it. This usually ended differently but he didn’t want it to go this way. His desire-filled mind couldn’t make sense of it all.

Chelsea looked into his eyes and saw the truth there. She did want him to stay but it was too soon and she’d gotten carried away. She unwound her legs and he gently lowered her down without removing his hand from her face. He bent down to kiss her tenderly.

“Good night,” he whispered.

He left quickly before he could change his mind.

After he’d gone, Chelsea leant against the door and sighed. She knew she’d seen the real Lucas tonight and he wasn’t the tough guy he made himself out to be. What was she going to do now?

* * *

As he drove home, Lucas attempted to bring himself back under control. He nearly turned the car around, but he talked himself out of it. How had he stopped himself from taking her as she wrapped herself around him? Why did he stop? What made her so different?

He decided a good night’s sleep would improve his focus but, once in bed, sleep was unattainable. She kept sliding sensuously into his mind.

He couldn’t believe he’d stopped and not taken the next step. He’d been a one night kind of guy, no strings attached. He didn’t want one night with Chelsea; he wanted more, much more. For the first time ever, he saw a woman as more than a pretty face, a conquest, someone to warm his bed for the evening, to stave off his loneliness. He did not just want this from her; he wanted everything. She’d felt so comforting when he’d poured his heart out to her and when she cried for him before touching his hand.

He was totally dumbfounded by how he had managed to stop himself from leaping across the table and taking her there and then.

He could barely keep his hands to himself whenever he was around her, yet he had managed to do just that the entire evening. Then her kiss to his cheek, so affectionate, so trusting somehow and her adorable face gazing up at him were almost his undoing. He knew at that moment he had to slow things down, to play for higher stakes.

He lay with his arm over his face in an attempt to block out her floating image so he could get some sleep.

Big question - would she still want him once she knew how many women he had slept with? The thought made him feel insecure, even panic briefly in a rare moment of shame, and he knew it would be best for them both if he stayed away from her for a while, got over her. That was what he should do, now could he do it?

That night, instead of death haunting his dreams, it was milky skin, emerald eyes, kissable lips, and her small hips pressing against him. The nightmares were gone again.

* * *

What’s this, Princess, having dinner with the detective now, are we? Well you are full of surprises. Don’t get too comfortable. Soon I will be coming for you. Tomorrow we will speak. I need to hear your voice and to let you know that soon you will taste the bitterness of one more loss. Losing your friend is just the beginning.