Twisted Creek

Chapter 17

Thursday

September 26

2200 hours

Luke noticed a thin line of gray smoke circle and rise against the nighttime sky. He could feel someone or something moving in the night. From patrolling the streets years ago in Houston, he’d learned that evil craves the shadows. As soon as he knew Allie was safely inside, he pulled his backpack from the canoe and began his search with night vision equipment. Today, he’d moved silently in his boat around the shoreline, trying to think like a drug dealer. Trying to guess where they’d set up next.

Smiling, he remembered how his cover of fishing had slowed the search because the fish kept biting. He’d even dropped the hook once without bait and somehow managed to snag a water moccasin. When he accidentally flipped the snake into the canoe he almost dove into the lake to avoid it. Only the fear that the slimy creature might have been traveling with friends kept him from the water.

He’d thought of calling it a day and going into town for a steak and a visit with the guys at the office. Luke had moved around enough over the years to know men at every ATF office in the state. He also knew they wouldn’t be interested in an old man’s death on some forgotten lake. Even the proof of three burned cabins wouldn’t pull them into his vacation investigation. They’d probably say that on a wild night a lightning storm could cause as much damage.

Luke needed more evidence, plus once he caught the fish he wanted to go back and offer them for supper. If it were another time, another place he might have asked Allie out on a date. Brought her flowers instead of fish. They’d go somewhere nice to eat and she’d be wearing something besides jeans. Who knew, in another world they might even end up in bed-but not in this world. She was as much of a suspect as any of the other nuts around her. Being attracted to her didn’t take her off the list.

Reaching his boat, Luke had just pulled on his backpack when car lights turned into the drive and headed toward the store. He ducked down and watched as the two fishermen he’d seen earlier climbed out and stumbled to the porch. The big one he’d heard called Hank almost dragged the other up the steps.

“Drunks,” he swore and lowered his pack back out of sight.

Luke moved toward the store as they pounded on the door.

“Help,” the big one yelled. “Somebody help!”

Lights flickered on upstairs. Luke hoped Allie stopped to put on clothes. He didn’t know if he could take the sight of pink panties again.

“Help! My friend is dying.” Hank wiggled his buddy as if showing proof.

Allie pulled open the door as Luke stepped onto the side of the porch. When she flipped on the light all he saw for a moment was blood covering the smaller man’s chest.

Hank kept yelling, “You got to help him, lady. I can’t.”

Allie backed away so pale Luke thought she might faint.

He rushed forward, stepping into the role of an authority as easily as he would well-worn shoes. “What happened here?”

He helped guide the bleeding man inside. The smell of whiskey and blood blended thick in the air.

“I don’t know,” the town crier yelled. “We was fishing off the bank a little after dark and the next thing I knew he was screaming like the devil had a grip on him.”

Luke moved in close, pulling the bloody man’s hand away so he could see the wound. His chest was bloodied but no wound visible. Luke grabbed the man by the shoulder with one hand and forced his head up with the other.

Blood dripped in a steady stream from both nostrils. A huge hook pierced the left side of his nose. “It’s not as bad as it looks, boys.” Luke hoped he was right. “Get me ice, a pot of cold water, and a few towels, would you, Allie?”

She nodded and almost ran to the kitchen. Luke pulled the patient to the first chair in the café area. “Now, tell me again what happened.”

The bleeding man took a deep breath and forced words out. “I hooked myself trying to cast. It was dark. Hank thought I was hung up on something so he yanked on the line. When he did, I fell forward on my face.”

Hank agreed to his part in the crime. “His face splat against a boulder half the size of a car. Thinking I’d killed him, I fell into the water trying to get to him. I got tangled in the line. I could have drowned.”

No one listened to Hank.

“I think your nose is broke,” Luke said, more to himself than the bleeding drunk. He’d seen enough bar fights to recognize one. They usually bled sufficiently to stop a fight.

Hank knelt down beside his friend, now that he realized death wasn’t near. He seemed fascinated with the wound. “It’s broke all right, Dan. You’ll be sneezing in your left ear from now on.”

Luke frowned at the drunk’s bedside manner. “Take a seat, Hank. I’ll get him cleaned up, then I’ll drive you both to town.”

Allie returned with a pan of cold water and towels. Luke dipped one of the towels, rolled it, and hung it over the back of Dan’s neck. The chill might sober him up and slow the blood flow.

While Luke washed Dan’s face, he told Allie to search for a pair of pliers. He wasn’t surprised when she handed them to him and disappeared. The drunk did look frightening. Blood still dripped. The hook stuck out the left side of his nose and both eyes were starting to turn black.

Luke snapped off the end of the hook and pulled it through the flesh. Then, bracing his fingers on both sides of Dan’s nose, he snapped it back into place.

The drunk yelped, then his eyes crossed in pain.

“Can you breathe?” Luke asked, hoping Dan wouldn’t pass out.

“Yeah,” Dan answered. “That hurt like hell.” He sounded as if the pain had sobered him somewhat.

So much for a thank-you, Luke thought, then handed Dan the towel and looked up at Hank. “Are you sober enough to drive him to the emergency room in Lubbock?”

Hank nodded. “Then, I think we’ll go home. We’ve had about as much fun as we can stand for one night.”

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled around the towel. “And after my wife gives me hell, she’ll feed me till I feel better.”

Luke walked them to their car and watched until they pulled out on the road. He almost felt sorry for them. Unless he guessed wrong, they were probably both married and were in for a great deal of teasing.

“Want a cup of coffee?” Allie asked from the porch.

Luke knew he didn’t have time. He had a full night of hunting to do if he planned to find a meth lab among the hundred shacks and cabins around here, but he said, “Sure.”

While she put a pot on, he stripped his shirt and washed blood off his hands and arms. His T-shirt was tight over his skin, the way he wore them when he strapped a bulletproof vest on.

“You growing lately?” She studied him.

“No,” he lied. “I just bought the wrong size.”

Allie turned her back to him as she pulled two cups from the shelf.

“You still wearing pink?”

“What?” She followed his gaze down her body. “Oh,” she muttered in sudden understanding. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my grandmother always buys me underwear and socks for Christmas. She thinks I like pink.”

Luke couldn’t believe he’d asked her, but now he had, he was glad she didn’t act all offended.

“We through talking about underwear?” he asked as he met her stare.

“Yes,” she answered calmly.

“Then, would you mind if I kissed you again? I’d kind of like to know if it was half as good as I remember it being.”

She smiled and moved to within an inch of him.

He would have liked to pull her close and feel her body against him, but he’d only asked for a kiss and now wasn’t the time to step over the line.

Cupping the side of her face with his hand, he lowered his mouth to hers. For a moment, he thought she tasted of cherry syrup and bubble-gum toothpaste, then only of Allie. Sweet, sweet Allie.

She rose to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck as if she feared he might end the kiss too soon.

Luke laughed against her lips. Moving away wasn’t likely to happen. He had no plan beyond kissing her. For right now it seemed enough.

Slowly she leaned into him and the kiss deepened.