to reach out and touch her. “You’re welcome. See you in the morning.” Ignoring the twinge of regret, he walked back out to his squad car. Turning around, he headed in the opposite direction from town, toward home.
He had to stop thinking about Megan and concentrate on his son. Sam was the most important thing in his life. As much as he dreaded the confrontation, he and Sam needed to have a serious heart-to-heart conversation about his underage drinking.
The discussion with Sam didn’t go well. Partially because he was the one who did all the talking, while Sam sat sullen-faced and full of resentment. He lectured Sam on the perils of drinking, but Sam continued to deny he had a problem, claiming he normally only drank a couple of beers. Of course, even a couple of beers were illegal. But when Luke had finished his lecture, he was convinced his plea had fallen on deaf ears.
After Sam disappeared into his room, he pocketed Sam’s truck key as punishment and went outside for a few minutes to clear his head.
Tipping his head back, he gazed up at the stars.
Please Lord, guide me in the best way to approach Sam. I don’t believe he’s guilty of anything more than being foolish in his desire to fit in with the other kids. Please show him the way. And keep my son in Your care. Amen.
Megan stared at the television screen in her motel room, her brain unable to stay focused on the lame sitcom. She should be exhausted after being awoken in the middle of the night, but she wasn’t. The hour was still early, and the four walls of her room were already making her feel boxed in. She debated the wisdom of going to Rose’s Café for something to eat. The diner wasn’t far, just two blocks down the center of Main Street.
She rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to shake the deep uneasiness that had plagued her since the moment she’d gotten that call over the radio about finding the location of Liza’s murder.
Fifty feet from her cabin.
She barely suppressed a shiver. Especially knowing she must have subconsciously heard the attack, dredging up memories of Katie. But there was no reason to panic. The sheriff was right, there were many theories to consider, not least of which pegged Liza’s former boyfriend as the possible assailant.
Steeling her resolve to treat this like she would any other case, she picked up her purse and her cell phone and left the hotel room, making sure the door was securely locked behind her.
She shouldn’t have been surprised to discover the center of town was busy, especially on a Saturday night. The streets were teeming with tourists who’d converged upon their small lake town. The lights were bright, making her feel safe as she walked to Rose’s Café, hanging on to her purse the way she’d learned in downtown Chicago as she slid through groups of strangers.
Josie wasn’t behind the counter. A pretty young blonde was working back there instead, and she couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment. Josie might be a gossip, but at least she was a friendly face.
There was one last seat at the very farthest end of the café counter, so she slid into it gratefully. She ordered a veggie lasagna and sipped her water as she waited for her meal.
When a cell phone rang, it took her a minute to realize it was hers. Twice in one day. Had to be a record.
She winced a little when she saw Jake Feeney’s name flash on her screen. Great. Her former fiancé. It was a sign of how lonely she felt that she answered the call rather than letting it go to voice mail.
“Hi, Jake,” she greeted him. She was surprised he’d called; she hadn’t spoken to him since before the trial.
“Megan! I’m so glad you picked up. Guess where I am?”
She frowned at his dramatic question, drawing circles in the water ring from her glass with her finger. “Where?”
“Crystal Lake. I decided to come up to see you.”
Shocked, her jaw dropped as she tried to think of something to say. “Uh, wow, Jake, that’s nice, but really you should have called first. I’m—uh—not at home.” Which wasn’t a lie. She wasn’t at home. She was at Rose’s Café.
“I know I should have called.” Jake, as always, brushed aside her concern. From the background noise she could tell he was in a public area. “But come on, Megan, please? At least let me buy you a drink. I came all this way to see you.”
Yeah, he’d come all this way, uninvited. She rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her. Really, his arrogance was amazing. She had no idea why she’d gone out with him, much less agreed to his spontaneous marriage proposal.
Spontaneous. Just like his showing up here unannounced. So typical of Jake. He was always one to give in to his impulses, without thinking things through. Amazing, considering he was a cop on the Chicago police force. But Jake was always reserved and serious on the job. Maybe that’s why he liked to break loose during his off time.
“I’m in the middle of dinner,” she said, as the cute blonde waitress slid a plate of food under her nose.
“After dinner, then. Meet me at Barry’s Pub, it’s right at the end of Main Street.”
She shouldn’t, but somehow the idea of going back to her minuscule motel room didn’t appeal. “All right,” she agreed, glancing at her watch. “Give me about thirty minutes.”
“Great! See you then.” He quickly hung up, as though afraid if she had a moment to think this through she’d change her mind.
She should change her mind, since getting back together with Jake wasn’t even a remote possibility. She’d met Jake during one of her cases and he’d asked her out immediately. He’d broken things off just as abruptly, shortly after her sister’s murder, claiming she was “obsessed.”
Those dark days were the most difficult time in her life, and he’d simply walked away.
She’d missed his support, the ability to at least talk to him about her work, the clues she’d pieced together to bring Paul Sherman to justice once and for all. But once the trial was over and Sherman convicted, she’d reluctantly admitted she hadn’t missed Jake, the man.
Being with Jake had been like riding a roller coaster. Exciting at times, but not something you wanted to do for the long term. Their ill-fated engagement wouldn’t have lasted, even without the stress of the trial.
As she ate her veggie lasagna, she thought about how odd it was that Jake had showed up now, after all this time. She would have bet her entire bank account that he’d moved on to someone else without a second thought.
So why hadn’t he?
Maybe her paranoia was rearing its ugly head again. She could be exaggerating the reason for his presence here. For all she knew, Jake had been in the area and in his usual impulsive way had decided to pop in to say hi.
Surely there was nothing wrong with having a soft drink with a friend?
She paid her tab, leaving a third of her meal on her plate, and then walked back outside. The pub was in the opposite direction from the motel, but not too far, so she set out at a brisk walk.
Inside the pub she paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting compared to the brightly lit street-lights outside. She saw Jake leaning against the bar, and when he caught her gaze and waved at her, she made her way toward him.
“Megan—” he caught her in a quick, hard hug “—I’ve missed you.”
“Hi, Jake,” she murmured, untangling from his embrace and wishing she could say the same. “What brings you to Crystal Lake?”
Instead of answering her question, he snagged the bartender’s attention. “What do you want to drink?” he asked.
She tempered a flash of impatience. Jake knew she didn’t drink alcohol. “Ginger ale, as usual.”
He grinned and shrugged. “Hey, you made a totally radical change