Chapter 9
Marisa blinked as she stared at the lights. Whereas her stepmother chose white lights, this home was decorated in bursts of bright color. Each twinkling light winked an invitation, beckoning her inside. Despite her headache, her spirit lightened.
She got out of the car, and with Lucas at her side, climbed the three steps to the front porch.
Lucas rang the bell and seconds later the thunder of feet echoed in the house.
The door snapped open to three boys, all with dark hair and gray eyes much like their uncle’s.
The boys—the youngest looked to be about six, the oldest three or four years older—were wearing cowboy hats and vests.
Their faces split into grins when they saw Lucas and they dove into his arms. He gave them a bear hug and lifted all of them up off the floor. They laughed and kicked and tried to wrestle free, but Lucas held tight until he set all three on the floor.
She couldn’t imagine her brothers jumping and yelling like this. They were more subdued. That was one of the reasons she’d taken her stepmother’s suggestion and bought the trucks.
“That’s Billy,” Lucas said, pointing to the boy on the right. “The other wranglers are Nate and Zeke. Where’s your mom?”
“In the kitchen.” They turned, each yelling “Mom” as they scrambled around a corner.
The house smelled of cookies and bread and cinnamon, and drew Marisa in like a welcoming embrace.
The large, open room had a vaulted ceiling made of roughly hewn beams. The furniture was large, overstuffed, and looked as if it had been well used.
She imagined the boys plopping on the sofa, eating a snack while they watched television or diving into a pillow fight with the cushions.
The walls were filled with family photos.
Most featured the boys, but she saw a few that featured a young Lucas.
She resisted the urge to study each more closely.
Lucas pulled off his hat and tossed it on a table. “Sherry!”
“Lucas!” A woman appeared. Tall, she wore an apron over well-worn jeans and a T-shirt. Her raven hair was pulled up in a loose topknot. Wisps framed an oval face. Faint crow’s-feet feathered out from her eyes, a sign she smiled often.
She hugged Lucas. “Boy, I didn’t think we were going to see you this year.”
“I wasn’t sure myself.” He pulled away and angled his body toward Marisa. “I’d like you to meet Marisa Thompson. She’s helping me with a case.”
Sherry wiped a floured hand on her apron and extended it. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you. Lucas told me he was on the trail of an expert to help him.”
“It’s great to meet you.” Sherry’s soft welcoming energy melted some of Marisa’s nerves.
“You must have been the gal in the car accident.”
Marisa touched her bruised cheek with her fingertips. “I was. But I’m on the mend.”
Sherry studied the dark bruise on Marisa’s cheek. “Well, give me your coat and let’s get you both into the kitchen. Looks to me like you could use some real TLC.”
“That cookies I smell in the kitchen?” Lucas asked.
“It is, but I’m going to serve you two up some stew first. I made a big pot, hoping you could make it, Lucas.”
“Bill working late?”
“He is so he can have the holidays off. I’m keeping dinner simple tonight. Hope that’s all right.”
“Smells great,” Lucas said.
Marisa’s stomach rumbled. Lucas had been right. The fruit cup had not cut it.
The kitchen was a large open room. To the left was a huge island, complete with a stove and sink.
Beyond the island stood a double refrigerator covered with pictures and art projects.
The granite counter behind Sherry was covered with cooling racks filled with cookies. A loaf of bread cooled on the counter.
To the right stood a long rustic table flanked by two long benches and capped by two chairs at the ends.
“Sit,” Sherry ordered. “I’ll grab you two a couple of bowls. You do eat meat, don’t you, Marisa?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Never know these days. I can always whip up a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“No, stew is perfect.”
Lucas pulled out the chair at the end of the table and she sat, not relaxed enough to ease back.
No one had cooked for her since her mother had died, and those meals had been haphazard at best. Her mother, like her, preferred to work rather than cook.
Lucas shrugged off his jacket, the muscles in his wide shoulders flexing under his shirt as he hung it on the back of the chair next to her.
He unfastened his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscled forearms.
Sherry quickly appeared with a tray that held two heaping bowls of stew, silverware, and glasses of lemonade. She set the tray on the table and served a bowl to Marisa and Lucas. “Go ahead and eat. I’m going to grab a coffee. Marisa, I know Lucas will take a cup, what about you?”
“That would be great.”
Marisa took a bite of stew and marveled at the rich tastes of beef, potatoes, and rosemary. For several minutes, she and Lucas sat in silence. With each bite she could feel her headache ease.
A loud crash boomed in the other room as the boys yelled. Sherry, shaking her head, said she’d be right back before disappearing into the other room. Seconds later silence returned.
“Those three rattle like thunder when they get going,” Lucas said.
“It’s nice. They add life to a house.”
“Chaos is more like it,” he said, grinning.
Sherry returned, shaking her head. “Marisa, tell me about your work.”
“I work at the university. Ancient studies. I just returned from Mexico a few days ago after a six-month dig.”
“Mexico,” Sherry said. “Lucas was just in Mexico.”
Marisa could feel her face warm, but if Sherry noticed she didn’t say anything.
“Find anything interesting in Mexico?” Sherry asked.
Marisa cleared her throat. “A portion of a stone tablet covered in glyphs. It tells the story of a Mayan ruler, I think.”
“Think?”
“The language shares similarities with the Mayan language that has been deciphered for the most part. But there are other glyphs that don’t fit.”
“Your boss says it could be a huge find,” Lucas said.
She arched a brow. “My boss? Bradley? So far, he’s dismissing the find. He thinks I’m overestimating it.”
“What do you think?”
She carefully scooped more stew. “I think it’s going to be huge.”
Lucas chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’d like to see his face when you get his job. He’s not going to like it.”
She grinned. “I don’t want his job. Too much paperwork.”
“So are you two going to spend the night?” Sherry set coffee mugs in front of Marisa and Lucas.
“Is that all right?” Lucas asked.
“Of course it is. I’ll put you in the boys’ room and Marisa in the spare room.”
Marisa scooted to the edge of her seat, her unease returning. “You don’t have to host us tonight.”
Sherry, sipping her coffee, waved away Marisa. “Too late to go anywhere. And you look like you could use a good night’s sleep.” When Marisa considered a protest, Sherry said, as if the matter were settled, “So tell me about this work you’re doing for Lucas.”
Marisa hesitated, not sure what she could or couldn’t say about the work.
“It’s a code,” Lucas said. “We’ve had a team on the case for months with no luck, and she cracked it in a day.”
“I don’t remember what I did,” Marisa said. Symbols skirted on the edges of her mind. She had the sense again that time was running out, but she couldn’t grasp facts to articulate.
“It will come in time,” Sherry said. “A good night’s sleep and a country breakfast and you will be good to go.”
“I hope it’s that easy.”
“Do you have any information on the second car?” Sherry asked.
Lucas set his coffee cup down. “We did get surveillance of a driver stopping and changing a tire. He’s in the shadows and it’s hard to make him out much. Our computer tech guy will be back from holiday in a couple of days and can enhance the image.”
“Marisa, did you see him?” Sherry asked.
“No. I was just a little freaked out.” More memories swirled in her mind, rolling in and out like the lapping waters of the Gulf. For a moment, one memory skittered nearly close enough to grab. No words or thoughts. But a sound.
“Are you getting another headache?” Lucas was staring at her hard.
“I thought I was remembering. No words but a sound. Like a ringtone on a phone. I have this odd feeling that whoever ran me off the road approached my car, but stopped when his phone rang.”
Lucas set his spoon down. “What was the sound?”
“A song. It was classical. Mozart, I think.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No. I don’t think I could open my eyes. But I heard the crunch of brush under boots and the song.” She shook her head. “That’s all I have. Why can’t I remember more?”
“Don’t push it.”
“Lucas is right, hon,” Sherry said. “You’ll remember and Lucas will find the guy who did this. No one gets away from Lucas Cooper.”
Color warmed Marisa’s cheeks as she lifted the cup to her lips.
No one gets away from Lucas Cooper.