wondering what that meant, whether she was divorced, widowed, had never been married . . . . He wondered, too, why it should matter to him. “About what happened here . . . ”
“I already said—”
“I know. I just want you to understand why I reacted so strongly. I’d never hurt a kid. Never. If you only understood how—” How cops feel about the kind of man you thought I was, he wanted to say. How we wish we could take the law into our own hands when we arrest the bastards who get their kicks out of hurting women and children . . . “I come from a big family,” he said, knowing that would have to suffice. “I have lots of cousins, a couple of them probably just about Emily’s age. So when you thought . . . ”
“I’m sorry,” Abby said, and he could tell that she really meant it this time. “It’s just that it’s such a crazy world . . . .”
“Sure. I understand.” Luke smiled. “Okay, then. Now we really are squared away.”
Abby smiled, too. “Yes. We are.” She was the one who held out her hand this time. “Goodbye, Mr. Sloan.”
Once again, Luke’s fingers closed around hers. “Luke.”
“Luke.”
“Goodbye, Abby.”
She tugged lightly on her hand. He let go of it and she turned quickly, went through the door and was gone.
Luke stared after her. Then he smiled, pursed his lips and whistled softly as he made his way to Katherine’s office, where his good mood vanished in an instant.
“Mr. Sloan,” Katherine said in a voice that was enough to freeze him in his tracks.
“Luke,” he offered as she stepped past him and slammed the door shut.
“Detective Sloan,” she said with deliberate emphasis, “if you think you can come to Forrester Square and disrupt everything—”
“Hold on.” Luke held up his hands. “I didn’t disrupt anything. That woman—Abby Douglas . . . ”
“Yes?”
He’d been going to say Abby had overreacted, but how could he know how a mother would feel if she thought her child was in danger? He’d been on the police end of a couple of child-missing cases, and as hard as such things were on cops, they had to be twice as tough on parents.
“It was a screwup,” he said. “Nobody’s fault, just one of those things that happen. Trust me, Katherine. You don’t want the kids upset, and I don’t want to call attention to myself. Okay?”
“This is exactly why I said I’d only cooperate if they sent me a female officer.”
“Yeah,” Luke said, straight-faced, “but could she build you shelves that will make you drool?”
Katherine stared at him. Then her lips twitched. “They’d better.”
“They will, I promise.” He took the leather bag he carried from his shoulder and walked to the back of the office. “As a point of information, is the Douglas woman widowed, divorced, what?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“It’s a cop thing,” Luke said casually. “Filling in all the blanks, you know? Okay.” His tone turned brisk. “I understand there’s a vacant apartment on the third floor.”
“Yes. My brother lived up there, but now that he’s married, he moved to a house. Eventually the day care will be taking over the space.”
“Good.” Luke zipped open the bag and took out a small black object. “I left my carpentry tools in my SUV. I’ll go get them in a little while. Meanwhile, I’m going to set this up.”
“What is it?”
“A camcorder. I’ll put it in one of the third-floor windows.”
“A camcorder? I thought you were here to do surveillance.”
“I am, but the camera can do it nonstop, and if something—somebody—interesting goes into the jewelry exchange, we’ll have a record we can view.”
“And you’ll still be here, in my office?”
Luke glanced up and smiled. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“No, that’s okay.” Katherine sighed. “Although, to be honest—”
“To be honest, the sooner I’m gone, the better. I agree. We’re just lucky that this window, this building, gives me such a perfect—”
“A perfect what?”
“Huh?” Luke turned toward Katherine. “A perfect view of the jewelry exchange,” he said, but what he’d just had a perfect view of was Abby Douglas, standing inside the exchange, behind the counter nearest the window.
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