Lead Me Home (Queen Anne Hill #1)

Chapter One

The bell on the door chimed as Luna entered the coffee shop. The sweet scent of roasted sunshine in the form of coffee beans met her senses and put an instant smile on her lips. There was something about coffee that someone else made that just makes it taste better.

The line nearly reaching the door, on the other hand, was worse.

She glanced at her watch to check the time, then counted the people in line in front of her.

There were three baristas and two cashiers.

Assuming that the twelve people in front of her ordered anything ranging from a shot of espresso, to a drink with steamed milk, say, a latte or cappuccino.

And the baristas took anywhere between one minute to two and a half minutes per drink, it should only take six to eight minutes to get her drinks and get out of there.

With twenty minutes to work with, Luna was certain she’d make it to her meeting on time.

In fact, she should have a couple of minutes to spare, which put an idea in her head.

Luna pulled her cell phone out of her purse, found a picture of her sister, and tapped on it.

“Hey, you,” Harper’s joyful voice sang over the line.

“Hey. I’m downstairs at Starbucks; do you want me to get you something?”

“I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“I’m not. Not for you guys anyway. Peterson is running the numbers for one of his clients, he asked me to come in and meet with a new PI he’s working with. I have just enough time to drop a latte off for you like the good little sister I am.”

“Ahh, what did I do to deserve you?”

Luna smiled into the phone. “Nothing. I was born this way.”

“A double shot latte would be great. Almond milk.”

The line inched forward while several people came in to stand behind her.

“You got it.”

“Do you think you’ll be around for lunch?”

“God, I hope not. Peterson is long-winded but this shouldn’t take longer than an hour, two at the most,” Luna said.

“If the meeting takes two hours, I can try and get out for an early lunch.”

“Sorry, I wish I could. I’m meeting a roof guy at the house between twelve and three. You know what that means.”

“Yeah,” her sister laughed. “He’ll show up at three.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s wrong with the roof?” Harper asked.

“Another leak. The last storm blew off a few shingles. Luckily, I needed to get something from the attic and noticed before the water soaked through into the house.” That was the problem with old homes .

. . they had old roofs and notoriously bad plumbing and electrical.

All of which needed attention. “I’m just hoping it can be patched.

The furnace needs an overhaul first. I don’t have money for both. ”

“I can help,” Harper offered.

“No.”

“It’s the family home.”

“That only this member of the family is living in.”

The line inched forward, so far Luna’s calculations were working and none of the baristas were taking a break.

“Still . . .”

“Not happening. I don’t have a mortgage or pay rent.”

“Yeah, but the bills on that place are double mine and Jerry’s. The property tax alone is—”

“Paid in part by my roommate. I got this, Harper. One emergency at a time is all I ask.”

The old Victorian home sat on Queen Anne Hill with a partial view of the sound. It had belonged to their maternal grandmother, who left it to the three of them.

Luna was the youngest of the three at thirty-five. Harper just turned thirty-nine, their brother Ash was thirty-seven.

Since Harper lived with her husband on the opposite side of Lake Union, and Ash was a police officer in Portland, Luna was the logical choice to live in the house.

Ash had a few personal items in a room he called his, even though he only stayed the night a handful of times a year.

Luna’s roommate Miley lived in the second largest bedroom in the house, and there were still three bedrooms to spare.

Two, since Luna used one as a home office.

It was a big house that collected big bills.

But Luna wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I’m about to order. See you in a few,” Luna told her sister.

“Okay.”

She disconnected the call.

There were two customers in front of her now, a man in a suit and a girl who couldn’t decide if she wanted blue hair or green.

Blue, Luna decided. The green didn’t match her skin tone.

The voice of the man caught Luna’s attention, the one in the suit. “Large coffee,” she heard him say.

“What kind of coffee.”

“Regular.”

“Dark roast, light roast . . .” the barista prodded.

“Dark.”

“Grande, venti?”

The man looked up at the menu as if it just now occurred to him that he needed details.

It was Starbucks, for God’s sake. There was one on every corner in Seattle. How did he not know how to order coffee in a Starbucks?

“Venti.”

Luna looked at her watch.

She caught the man’s profile after he paid and moved to the other end of the counter to wait for his drink. Strong jawline, tan skin, which stuck out since it was late January in Seattle. They hadn’t seen the sun since October.

The girl ordered a mocha frappe, too much chocolate with whipped cream that made it just one hair short of ice cream. That drink would take them at least three minutes to make.

With her phone in her hand, ready to pay, Luna quickly gave her order and stood aside in less than a minute.

At the end of the counter, she pulled a couple of napkins from where sugar, cream, and cinnamon lived and waited for her name to be called.

Milkshake girl looked up at the same time Luna did. She couldn’t be a day over eighteen.

She offered a smile.

Luna smiled back. “Blue hair looks good on you,” she told her.

“You think so?” She fiddled with the ends of said hair.

“Absolutely. The darker the better.”

Her shoulders slumped. “It fades too fast.”

“Then just do the ends.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Thanks.”

Someone moved between them to retrieve their coffee.

One by one names were called and drinks were picked up.

Venti dark roast man kept looking at his watch.

Luna’s ears tuned in when she heard her name. At the same time, the girl she’d been talking to moved forward to grab her cup.

“Thanks for the hair tips.”

“No problem.” Luna smiled at the girl as she pushed down on the lids of the coffee to make sure they were tight, then put two sleeves on them so she wouldn’t burn her hands.

Outside the rain had started to fall.

Thankfully, the coffee shop was only steps away from the building that housed the offices she was going to.

Luna tightened the belt on her jacket and picked up both coffees.

The line to order would have extended past the door if not for the rain. Instead, patrons crowded at the entry, making it difficult to jockey her way out.

Free of the crowd in the doorway, Luna doubled her steps to avoid being drenched. As she did, her purse started to slide off her shoulder. She stopped walking and lifted her elbow in an effort to correct the strap of her bag.

The person walking behind her rammed straight into Luna’s arm.

Luna lunged forward to keep her balance, but the cup in her hand didn’t survive the encounter.

Hot coffee splashed on her hand, causing her to drop it completely.

Luna sprang back to avoid being bathed in java.

Most of it missed her.

Most. Not all.

“What the . . .” the man who bumped into her said.

“Damn it.” Luna looked at her feet and the sad and empty cup that sat there. Cold rain hit the hot coffee with a splash of mist. “Watch where you’re walking,” she chided.

She looked over to find dark roast venti man staring at her.

He had hazel eyes, or were they green with flecks of gold? Whatever the color, they met hers and held.

“You stopped” was all he said.

Luna shook off the way he looked at her and bent down to pick up the cup. “You weren’t watching where you were going.”

She glanced over her shoulder, looked at the line in the coffee shop, and knew she’d have to settle for whatever mud came out of the office break room.

“I’ll buy you another—”

“I don’t have the time. I’m going to be late as it is.” And wet . . . very wet.

Without saying more, she hustled toward the door where they were both obviously headed.

She dropped the empty cup in the closest bin and headed toward the elevators.

“I am sorry.”

“No one died,” she said. They drowned. Luna couldn’t tell if her pants caught some of the coffee, or the wet was only from the rain.

Inside the elevator, she pressed her sister’s floor and stood back while several people pushed in.

She felt the weight of dark roast venti guy’s gaze and glanced over to meet it.

He quickly looked away to study the ceiling.

When her stop came, she didn’t need to look to prove the man watched her walk away.

She felt his eyes with every step.

Luna walked into the law offices where her sister worked and breezed past the receptionist.

Harper sat in a small space she shared with another paralegal.

“Here you go,” she said as she sat the coffee on Harper’s desk.

Her sister pulled her gaze away from her computer with her fingers still covering her keyboard and looked at Luna. “It must be coming down out there,” she said.

Luna shook her arms; water splattered in all directions. “You think.”

Harper reached for her coffee and laughed. “Wait, where’s yours?”

“Long story, I’m going to be late.” She turned to walk away.

“I’ll call you later.”

Luna lifted a hand in the air indicating she’d heard her sister, then hustled to the elevators once again.

Five minutes past nine, Luna walked into the law offices of Allen and Associates. She paused at the reception desk and started to unbutton her coat. “Hi, Melinda.”

“Hi.”

“Marcus is expecting me. Is he in his office or the conference room?”

“They’re in the conference room,” she said.

They? Great . . . nothing like being late for more than one person.

Luna shrugged out of her coat.

Melinda stepped around the desk to take it. “No need to stress.”

“I hate being late. This jerk bumped into me, my coffee ended up on the street . . .” Luna pulled in a deep breath, stood tall, and pasted on a smile she didn’t feel.

Melinda laughed. “I’ll bring coffee to the room.”

Luna sighed. “I could kiss you.”

“Not in the office,” Melinda teased.

Swiping a strand of soaked hair back, Luna made her way to the conference room.

Just outside the open door she heard voices.

“She elbowed me, her coffee took flight, and she had the audacity to act like it was my fault.”

Luna froze in the doorway.

Dark roast venti guy had his back to her.

Marcus stood to his left, shaking his head. “It feels like most people are walking around in a daze. Heads in their phones, earbuds blasting music. No one pays attention anymore.”

“Tell me about it.”

The fake smile she’d painted on only moments ago slid from her face. Seriously? This guy blamed her?

The nerve.

“There she is. My secret weapon for numbers,” Marcus boasted once he caught sight of Luna standing there.

Slowly, Mr. Venti turned.

A sinister feeling of joy bloomed in Luna’s chest as recognition hit his eyes.

Unaware of the silent communication between her and Venti, Marcus made the introductions. “Nate Warren, this is Luna Canning.”

She placed her purse on the conference table and reached out to shake his hand. “Hello, Mr. Warren. You look familiar. Have we met before?”

His hand was warm, despite the fact that they’d both just come in from the cold.

“If we did, I, ah . . . certainly didn’t catch your name.” Nate gave her hand a little extra squeeze before letting her go. “Marcus has told me a lot about you.”

“All good I hope.”

To Nate’s credit, he didn’t break eye contact, even when her smirk of a smile said ten times more than her words did.

“Singing your praises, Luna. If I could sing,” Marcus said as he patted her shoulder in a warmer welcome than a handshake.

“You’re too kind.”

That made him laugh. “Since when are you humble?”

It was then that Luna purposely looked away from Nate. “I have to try once in a while.”

“Sit, sit.”

Luna moved to a seat opposite Nate.

Marcus sat at the head of the table.

“I’m sorry for being late. It’s a little . . .” She glanced at Nate. “Hectic out there.”

Amusement swam in Nate’s hazel eyes without the least bit of shame.

“So I’ve heard,” Marcus said.

Melinda walked into the room, a cup of coffee in her hand. She sat it in front of Luna with a small caddy filled with cream and various types of sugar.

“Thank you.”

“Can I get anything for you, Mr. Warren?”

Nate cleared his throat. “Ah, no. I’m good.”

Luna glanced at Nate’s Starbucks cup before doctoring her coffee to her liking.

Melinda closed the door behind her when she left.

“I’ve already told Nate about your prowess with numbers. You won’t find a better forensic accountant in the state.”

This time, Luna accepted the praise without humility.

“Nate is our new consultant. He worked as a criminal fraud investigator for the federal government. Now he works independently as a private investigator using those same skills.”

Luna lifted the coffee to her lips and talked over the rim of the cup. “You’re a little young to be retired from the Feds.”

“I was more interested in the private sector with more room to do my job than bureaucratic red tape allowed.”

Luna sipped her coffee, then put the cup down.

“And more lucrative,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “No one likes to wait for Congress to approve their paycheck.”

“Their loss, our gain,” Marcus said. “And I have a feeling that with the two of you, we’ll be an unbeatable team.”

Luna placed her fingers on the charm she had hanging from her neck and slowly slid it along the chain.

Marcus handed them each a folder. “Our client is Joel Mercier . . .”