Modern Romance January 2017 Books 1 - 4. Jane Porter

Wagon for their debriefing—only made him wish more that Maria Worley would take a flying leap off the top of her office building and land in the Gulf. Ryan thought briefly of storming up to the Winnebago in defiance, but it wouldn’t be worth it. Lena would kick his ass all the way back to the office and he’d look like a fool.

      Finally, after a bit more useless watching, he trudged back to his truck and climbed inside, the summer sun fading, as it could sometimes do, seemingly within an instant. In that moment—in that quick second between light and total darkness—he happened to look west, directly into the glare, and a movement caught his attention. He blinked, then blinked again, holding his hand up to shade his eyes against the blinding rays.

      He saw nothing but the orange ball of the sun against a glowing sky and finally decided he had imagined the motion. Then he saw it again. A small figure behind one of the warehouses, a black baseball cap on his head, a blue backpack hanging off one shoulder. Ryan’s breath stopped in response, the adrenaline flowing before he assessed the situation. It was just a kid, he realized, a kid watching the action just as Ryan had been doing. As Ryan watched, the youngster turned around and loped away. A few minutes after that, Ryan left the scene as well, the bitter taste of exclusion his primary sensation.

      He was sitting on the deck after midnight when the question finally hit him.

      How had a kid gotten to a deserted warehouse so far out on the edge of town?

      He reached for his cell phone he’d brought to the deck out of habit, but before he could finish dialing the number, he stopped, his fingers growing still. If he told Lena what he’d seen, she’d be pissed because he was there. She might even add more time to his “sentence.” Chances were, the kid’s appearance meant nothing anyway. Ryan had passed a trailer park a mile or so before the complex. The boy had probably walked over from there to see what all the excitement was about. He ought to be home studying instead, Ryan mused. Why did he even care?

      Why did Ryan?

      Dropping the phone, Ryan answered himself. He was off active duty now. It didn’t matter what he thought about the case. He was out of the picture. Leaning his head back into the recliner, he stared at the endless black sky above him. He could see Ginny’s face in the stars and for one crazy minute he even thought he smelled her perfume. Cursing to himself, Ryan closed his eyes. Beside him, the dog sighed softly, then settled in to wait.

      CHAPTER THREE

      MARIA ADJUSTED the fresh tulips and freesias that sat on the corner of her desk—for the third time that morning. The fussing was pointless, but she had to do something and she didn’t want to look at her watch again. If she did, she’d only get more angry than she was already. After a second, she gave up and looked anyway. It was twenty-five past the hour.

      She stood suddenly and crossed to the window. A summer storm was threatening to move in, with billowing clouds hovering over the water, turning the green sea into a metallic gray. She watched a line of sailboats head for the marina and thought about Ryan Lukas. She’d been pretty sure he wasn’t going to show up for his appointment, but the inconsiderateness still irked her. She could have used the time to meet with Chris’s counselor again. She’d wanted to have a follow-up meeting this week, but because of her schedule had been unable to do so. How much trouble would it have been for Ryan to pick up the phone and call her?

      She was kidding herself, of course. Ryan Lukas wasn’t going to acknowledge her in any way; to do so would mean facing his problem, admittedly in a minor fashion, but even that was more than he could handle. Full and complete denial was his only mode of operation at this point.

      Her aggravation fled as the observation registered. Ryan needed help and needed it now. He was aching inside and didn’t know how to ease the hurt.

      She turned away from the glass and buzzed the receptionist. “Sher, I’m going to make a call. If my 3:00 p.m. comes in, would you beep me on the other line?”

      “Sure thing.” Sherlyn Eliot was a cheerful motherly type who handled all the calls for the five therapists who shared Maria’s suite. “He’s the hunky one, right? Lieutenant Lukas. I remember him.”

      “Uh…right. Lieutenant Lukas.”

      Maria put the receiver down, the woman’s words ringing in her mind. She never saw her patients as anything other than patients. Ethics demanded this, and in addition, Maria had simply stopped looking at men after she’d married. She’d considered herself out of the race, and for all the reasons every single woman understood, she hadn’t bothered to start looking again.

      She wasn’t about to change that, either. With Christopher’s problems and her stressful workload, a man was the last complication Maria needed. Especially someone with an emotional life as tangled as Ryan Lukas’s. Even if he wasn’t a client, he’d never be the kind of person she’d date. The one man she’d seen since her divorce had proved to be such a disaster she need only remember him for encouragement—he’d wanted free therapy, not a real relationship.

      Having been there for Maria then, she could imagine what Jackson would think about Lukas. He’d roll over and die, she was sure.

      With that thought, she lifted the phone again and speed dialed his number. Jackson Maxwell had been her therapist and consultant on various cases for the past ten years. Now they were best friends. He always listened with a neutral ear and guided her toward the right decisions without actually telling her what to do. It was a skill not too many people had, but Jackson had perfected the art. And Maria loved him for it.

      “Powell’s Antiques.” Richard Powell, Jackson’s partner, answered the phone on the first ring. He and Jackson had been together for twenty-five years and when Jackson had retired from his practice, Richard had immediately recruited him into his business. Claiming forced labor, Jackson had complained, but Maria knew deep down he’d actually been scared. Leaving the profession he’d loved and having spare hours to fill could be a frightening prospect. She wasn’t sure how well the arrangement was going, but personally, she couldn’t imagine having all the time in the world to do whatever caught her fancy. She’d always had more work, at the office and at home, than she could handle.

      “Richard, this is Maria. Is Jackson around by any chance?”

      “Maria! He’s supposed to be here somewhere, but I swear he’s hiding. I told him to dust the crystal vases in the back room and he disappeared.”

      Maria laughed. “I’d disappear, too, if you told me that. Last time I was in there you pointed to one and said ‘Twenty thousand.’ That’d scare off anyone!”

      “Well, we’ll be drowning in crystal if someone doesn’t get back there and clean it up so I can sell it. Just a minute, though, I’ll see if I can unearth him….”

      She heard him drop the phone and yell Jackson’s name. A few seconds later, an extension clicked on, Jackson’s voice coming out in a whisper. “Come save me, Maria! I swear to God, he’s driving me crazy…. Is this really what he does all day?”

      Maria laughed again. “You wanted a new life,” she warned. “This is what you got.”

      “I’m ready to go back to the crazy people, then. Do you want a partner?”

      “Maybe we could work out a deal…. What do you think about switching with me? You take my whole life and I’ll take yours.”

      “Is Christopher part of the package?” Jackson and her child had always been close; Christopher was the son Jackson didn’t have. “I might consider a switch if he comes with the deal.”

      “I don’t think you’ll feel that way after you hear why I’m calling.”

      With as little fanfare as possible, she told Jackson what had happened. “I don’t understand what’s going on with him,” she concluded.

      “He misses his daddy.”

      “I know that.”

      “And he