L.L. Foster - The Awakening

To halt the rapid-fire insults, Luther smashed two fingers over her mouth. "All right. Then why did you kiss me?"

She slapped his hand away. "Because I like kissing you. If you didn't want me to, you should have spoken up and said so."

Luther wasn't sure, but she sounded convincing enough. "I like kissing you, too. But you have a lot to learn about the etiquette of kissing."

The insult infuriated her beyond measure. "Fine. I'll try to get some lessons in before I bother kissing you again."

Luther knew she said it to hit a nerve.

He knew she baited him.

And still, his temper struck a high point. "We already had this discussion, Gaby." Struggling to keep his voice low and moderate, Luther stepped back from her. "Anything you want to learn, you'll learn from me."

She shoved her face in close to his. "I'll practice anywhere, with anyone I choose."

The thought of her with another man rattled him so fiercely that he might have lost it there and then. But as Gaby spoke, she went through that peculiar transformation again.

The skin around her eyes tightened; the hue of her irises grew brighter, her pupils bigger. Beneath the pale skin of her throat, frantic energy palpated.

Her scent was stronger, more captivating.

Though the actual physicality of her body didn't change, her strength was more defined to the naked eye.

In the usual course of things, Gaby looked like a ragtag, bedraggled beanpole of a girl.

At this moment, Luther saw an Amazon able to take on the world.

To gentle her, calm her, he brushed the backs of his fingers along that wild pulse beat in her throat. "You're very soft, Gaby."

The razor-sharp essence thawed. Her eyes focused; her lips compressed. "You're such an ass."

Glad to have her back, Luther smiled. "Yeah, I know."

"You need to find that missing body."

"Yeah." Running a hand through his hair, Luther decided it was past time to get back on track. He glanced at his watch. "Ann is meeting me at the hospital in a few minutes."

Gaby's expression went flat. "Well, whoopee for you. I'm sure you two will have a grand old time."

It felt odd to fix an emotion like jealousy to a woman like Gaby.

Odd, and exhilarating.

"We'll be working, Gaby. I already told you, there's nothing personal between us."

"Like I care."

"You care." Where Gaby was concerned, Luther felt certain of very little, but that much he knew. He kissed her again before she could dispute his claim. "I can do my job more efficiently if I know you'll stay out of trouble tonight."

She stared him in the eyes and said, "I always stay out of trouble."

That steadfast gaze gave him pause. If she had hoped to convince him, she accomplished just the opposite.

"Now." Gaby shoved him back. "Stop dawdling and go do whatever it is cops do to solve heinous crimes before more heinous crimes happen."

Turning to lean on the car, Luther crossed his arms and watched her retreat. He saw the discomfort in her usual graceful gait, the rigid way she held her shoulders. "Want me to come by later and tell you what I find?"

"Tell me in the morning," She kept on walking, over the sidewalk, up from the front steps, and to the door. She dug out a key. "It's late, and I'm tired."

Now he knew she lied. Gaby wouldn't admit to a weakness of any kind, not even exhaustion. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. Gaby."

"From the hospital?" She stepped inside and turned toward him to say, "Good luck with that."

The door shut with finality, and Luther took only two seconds to make up his mind. Finding a corpse and solving a crime was important. He wouldn't neglect his obligations and duty. But she was right—he couldn't very well watch her from so far away.

And she definitely needed supervision. She needed protection.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Retrieving his cell phone, Luther put in a call to Ann.

She answered on the first ring. "Detective Kennedy."

Luther circled the hood of his car and got in. "It's Luther. Where are you?"

"At the hospital. Why?"

"Something's come up—"

"You're telling me." Ann's voice rose with agitation. "I tracked down the paperwork on our missing remains. Are you sitting down?"

"Do I need to be?"

"Oh yeah. Brace yourself, because I just know you're going to love what I've found."

Dread filled Luther. "Let's hear it."

"The signature authorizing a cremation was forged. Seems that's not what our Ms. Davies wanted at all."

The dread turned to anger and disbelief. "Shit."

"Yeah. A nurse broke down and told me some things she'd seen and heard, so I checked. This is definitely not the same signature. I already sent two uniforms over to the crematorium to talk to the staff. In another day or two, they could have claimed she was already cremated, and who would know different? Ashes are ashes, right?"

"It'd be an easy cover-up—with someone working at the crematorium."

"Exactly. Someone there had to be in on this."

"That'd make sense. The doc forges the name, someone else pretends to get the body…" Sickened by such perverse deception and corruption, Luther rubbed his forehead. "So the big question now is: where's the body?"

"I don't know that yet, but I did talk to Dr. Marton." Ann gave a heavy pause. "Luther, he's not the one who forged the signature."

Not Dr. Marton? So Gaby was wrong about that. "You sure?"

"Positive. Not only did I rule out Marton, but I'm putting my bets on someone else entirely."

Something in Ann's tone clicked. Luther straightened in his seat. "Wait a minute. Are you saying…" His brain almost cramped with the possibility. "Dr. Chiles did this?"

Disgusted, Ann said, "That's right, big boy. The sweet, little, soft spoken female doctor is as sick as they come."

"Holy shit." But… it made sense, in a twisted, shot-to-hell way. No one suspected her. She was so far from obvious that she'd get by with murder—literally—and no one would look at her twice. "Goddamn it!"

"Yup." Satisfied with his reaction, Ann said, "Now all we have to do is find her."

"She's not at the hospital?"

"And not at her home address. The good doctor is AWOL."

Luther looked at the front door of Gaby's apartment building. He recalled the altered state of her appearance, the rigidity of her posture.

He put the car in gear. "I know how to find her."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I'll get back with you." Going on a hunch, he disconnected the call and pulled away from the curb. If Gaby knew he waited on her, she wouldn't budge from the apartment. He'd show a little patience, share a little belief.

And Gaby would lead him to the doctor.

Breath hitching painfully, Gaby barely got in the door before Mort was there.

Oblivious to her state, he smiled and asked, "How was your date?"

Striding past Mort, all but blinded by her purpose, she headed toward the basement steps. "It wasn't a date."

"It wasn't?"

Unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, a terrible premonition hung over Gaby. She felt the summons, clean and pure, and ripe with pain.

Yet a sense of doom veiled her. Writing it off as the interference of too many other people, Gaby shook her head.

She knew better than to get involved. "Leave me alone, Mort."

Of course, he followed her.

Damn it, she did not have the time or patience to chat with him tonight. "Okay, fine, it was a date."

Halfway down the stairs, she realized Mort was right behind her, and she turned.

Mort almost fell into her.

Hands fisting and brows pinched, Gaby glared at him. "Go back, Mort."

His easy camaraderie faded to nervous energy. "Back… where?"

"Upstairs. Away from me. Out of my way ."

"But… Why?" He looked her over with grave trepidation. "What are you doing, Gaby? What's happened?"