Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(30)

Pike waited.

“The nineteen minutes. They were in his bungalow for nineteen minutes, but nothing was disturbed or missing. Nineteen minutes is a long time to stand around doing nothing.”

“The meatball and the scarecrow?”

“Yes.”

“If they took nothing, maybe they left something.”

It made sense.

“If they planted a listening device or a camera, they’d know if Josh went home.”

“Josh. You. His mother. Whoever entered.”

I didn’t like it, but Pike was right.

“Be nice to know if they left something.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Can you do it without them knowing?”

To find a surveillance device, Pike would have to enter the premises. But when he entered, he’d trigger the device.

“Not me. But I know someone who can.”

We heard a car pull up outside my house and Pike tipped his head toward the street.

“They’re here.”





18





We met them outside as Lucy and Ben climbed from a dark green rental car. Ben flashed a great huge smile and threw his arms around me.

“Elvis, oh, man, this is great. I miss you.”

“Me, too, bud. Look at how big you are.”

Even as I hugged him, I watched his mother. Lucy Chenier was as beautiful as the day we met. She had played collegiate tennis at LSU and moved with natural grace. Smile lines fanned from the corners of her amber eyes and soft lines bracketed her mouth. The lines had deepened, but they added a richness that made her even more attractive. Her auburn hair was streaked with highlights.

Ben went to Joe, and Lucy and I traded smiles. If something was wrong, I didn’t see it.

I said, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Your hair is shorter.”

“A little.”

“Looks good. It’s good to see you.”

We shared a polite kiss and hugged, and she turned to Joe. Ben returned to their car.

“Mom! Open the trunk. Let’s get our stuff.”

Ben and I wheeled their bags into the guest room. He noticed the picture.

“Think you can still press me over your head?”

“With a crane.”

He grinned and turned back to the photo.

“Arrowhead was fun. We should go.”

“How long does the program at UCLA last?”

“Only a week. But maybe I can come back this summer.”

I squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m happy you and your mom are here.”

I let go and nodded toward the kitchen.

“C’mon. I’ll bet you’re starving.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Tacos.”

“Tacos!”

Lucy and Joe were in the kitchen. They’d been talking, but stopped when they heard us coming. Ben dove on the chips and salsa like a starving hawk.

Lucy said, “I heard the magic T-word.”

“You did. Carne asada, pollo, and fake pollo. All we need to do is fire the coals and put the salad together.”

I took a bag of sliced zucchini and squash from the fridge.

Pike said, “Hold off the coals. Ben and I are making a beer run.”

“We have beer.”

“Not the right beer. C’mon, bud. Grab some chips for the road.”

Ben scooped a mound of chips into a paper towel and shot me a look as he followed Pike out the carport door.

“Mom wants alone time so you can talk.”

Ben pulled the door as they left. The house suddenly felt like a deserted island with only the two of us onshore.

Lucy said, “He reads minds.”

“He reads signs. Want to talk in the living room?”

“I couldn’t sit.”

Lucy went to the counter and crossed her arms. She wet her lips, and glanced away. She was nervous and her being nervous made me fearful.

“If you tell me you’re dying, I’ll kill you.”

She blinked.

“Oh, no. It’s Richard.”

The ex.

“Fine. Richard is better than dying.”

“Not by much.”

Her eyes hardened the way they did when she charged the net.

“I am mad. I’ve been mad since that despicable man did what he did and I hate this.”

She closed her eyes and raised a hand, stopping herself.

“How about some water?”

“Gin.”

I poured two on the rocks. She held her glass with both hands.

“Richard is writing to Ben. Did he tell you?”

“He has not.”

“A letter came to the house last year. Thank God I saw it first. Here’s the return address, prison. I was beside myself. I wanted to shred it, then and there, but, honestly, I didn’t know what to do. I hid it. In a shoebox.”

I didn’t know what to say so I nodded. Lucy hadn’t mentioned the letters, either, but Lucy had tried to keep Richard out of our relationship since the beginning.

She said, “Then a second letter came. And a third.”

“The shoebox?”

“The shoebox. I finally told Ward and he suggested I read them.”