Victim #8, page 14
“I’m not sure.”
“It’ll be fine.” He shouldered his duffel bag. “I promise.”
“Okay.” Amberlyn drew another deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I’m trusting you.”
A warmth spread through him, edging out some of his own nerves. She trusted him. He only hoped he wouldn’t let her down.
* * *
Amberlyn shouldn’t be nervous about meeting Luke’s mom, but she was. She’d hoped admitting it to Luke would help ease the butterflies in her stomach, but they were still going to war inside her, their wings razor sharp. She was meeting the parents of a sweet, thoughtful friend who was still struggling to overcome his grief. What a situation this was.
Luke headed toward the escalator. “The taxi stand is this way.”
The two of them left the tracks and entered the large space filled with travelers coming and going. Signs directed passengers to the various exits, but Luke strode with purpose without a second glance.
They reached the door and stepped outside. A long line of people stretched the length of the entire block.
Luke furrowed his brow.
A family of four piled into a cab up the block.
Amberlyn took in the mass of people on the sidewalk with new understanding. “Is everyone in this line waiting for a taxi?”
“I’m afraid so.” Luke turned to her. “It might be faster to walk.”
“How far away do your parents live?” Amberlyn asked.
“It’s about a mile.”
“What about calling an Uber or Lyft?” Amberlyn asked.
“That doesn’t always work well when the traffic is bad. They tend to get canceled when they can’t make it to their destination on time.”
“Lead the way, then.”
Luke escorted her across the street and down the crowded sidewalk. Several times, they were forced to walk single file, and she had to fight to keep up.
When she was once again able to walk beside him, she said, “I knew New York was crowded, but this is way worse than what I expected.”
“It’s probably the lingering crowds from the Thanksgiving parade.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that.”
“I usually try to come the day before or catch the train that gets here after the parade has been over for a while, but that option was sold out when I made my reservations.”
And he’d had to work last night.
“Walking through the crowds isn’t that big of a deal.” She’d barely spoken the words when they approached a group of people spilling out of a café, the scent of coffee hanging in the air.
Luke took the lead again, and they worked their way forward. She kept a firm grip on her suitcase, shifting her laptop bag to rest in front of her at her waist. The wind whipped over her, stinging her cheeks and making her wish she’d had the foresight to put on a hat.
They passed Times Square and walked through the theater district, the crowds still thick, the energy high despite the frigid air.
Luke glanced over his shoulder. “It’s not much farther.”
Thank goodness. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees in the past fifteen minutes. Or perhaps it was the wind chill. Either way, she was ready to step inside somewhere warm, preferably with a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She shivered. At least her teeth weren’t chattering. Yet.
Luke gestured to a building with an awning stretching out from the entrance. “This is it.” He stopped beside the keypad next to the door and punched in a code. A moment later, the door clicked, and Luke pulled it open.
They walked inside, and Amberlyn took in the enormous lobby. To one side, a man stood behind a long counter, much like a concierge in a hotel. Opposite him, several leather chairs and couches made up a seating area, complete with end tables topped with poinsettias.
“May I help you?” the concierge, a man in his sixties, asked.
“I’m Luke Steele. We’re here to visit my parents, Pam and Jerry Steele.”
“Oh, yes. They told me you were coming.” He checked his computer and tapped on the keyboard. “I’m Keith. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you during your visit.”
“Thank you.” Luke continued to the elevators and pressed the button. “Ready to meet the folks?”
“I guess so,” Amberlyn said, but she wasn’t entirely sure she would ever be ready for this.
* * *
Luke slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve his keys but reconsidered. If Pastor Mosley had been standing beside him, he wouldn’t have hesitated to let himself in, but he didn’t know how his parents would feel about his walking in with a complete stranger. His mom could be weird about being seen without her makeup on, and Luke’s walking in unannounced might be frowned upon.
Adrenaline pumped through him, and nerves knotted in his stomach. With some effort, he rang the bell, not sure what he should be feeling right now. Amberlyn might be a stranger to his parents, but she was important to him, far more than they knew.
The door swung open, but it wasn’t one of his parents on the other side. It was his older sister.
“Luke!” Brianna rushed into his arms and pulled him close.
She held on longer than expected, her quiet way of acknowledging his recent loss. When she pulled back, she held him at arm’s length. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah.” He said the word because it was expected, not because it was true. He stepped back and gestured to Amberlyn. “This is Amberlyn Reiner. Amberlyn, my big sister, Brianna.”
“I haven’t been bigger than you since you were fourteen.” Brianna laughed.
“Okay, older sister,” Luke corrected, although the two years between them had never felt like much until they’d reached high school.
Brianna shook Amberlyn’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Amberlyn.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Brianna cast a speculative look at the two of them. “Are you two . . . ?”
“We’re friends,” Amberlyn said.
They were friends, but hearing her say the words stung. He didn’t have to analyze why to know that somewhere deep inside he hoped for more, for what they’d had at his reunion to become real. But that would require him to open his heart again, to be vulnerable again. And no matter how much he cared for Amberlyn, he simply wasn’t ready.
He ushered Amberlyn inside to the mouthwatering scents of turkey and pumpkin pie, the view of Central Park spread out before them on the far side of the expansive living room.
Luke looked around the empty room. “Where is everyone?”
“Dad’s in the kitchen, Mom’s in her office, and Jacob took the kids to the park.”
“In that case, I’m going to show Amberlyn the guest room before I introduce her to everyone.”
Brianna nodded. “I’ll let Dad know you’re here.”
“Thanks.” Luke gestured to the hall that led to the bedrooms and his mom’s office. “We’re this way.”
He set his suitcase inside the door of the room his parents gave him when they moved in nearly fifteen years earlier. Then he continued to one beside his and opened the door. “This is yours.”
Amberlyn stepped inside the cozy bedroom, an Amish quilt covering the four-poster bed. A padded stool had been positioned at the foot of the bed, and an antique writing desk occupied the space beneath the window.
Amberlyn walked inside and set her bags beside the stool. “What a beautiful room.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
His mom’s voice carried to him. “Luke? Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mom,” Luke called out before turning back to Amberlyn. “Come on.”
Though Luke sensed Amberlyn’s reserve, she joined him in the hall at the same time his mom stepped out of her office two doors down. As usual, his mom’s light-brown hair was perfectly styled, falling just to her shoulders, and her everyday makeup was intact.
“You’re home!” His mom’s blue eyes lit up, and she rushed down the hall and gathered him close. “I’m so glad you made it.” She released him and smiled at Amberlyn. “You must be the friend Luke told me about.”
“This is Amberlyn,” Luke offered.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Steele.” Amberlyn offered her hand.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, too, and please, call me Pam.”
Amberlyn nodded but didn’t speak.
“What are you working on?” Luke asked. “You usually take Thanksgiving off.”
Worry lines marred her brow. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with one of my sources overseas, but he hasn’t been responding.”
“Is this a source you’ve used a lot?” Luke asked.
“I used to.” His mom shrugged. Changing the subject, she asked, “Amberlyn, did Luke already show you your room?”
“Yes. Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for letting me share the holiday with you.”
“Of course.” She put her hand on Luke’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s been a rough few weeks for Luke. It’s not easy to lose a friend.”
“No, it’s not, but Amberlyn knows what that’s like all too well.” At the confused look on his mom’s face, Luke expanded his comment. “Her best friend died in the Kansas City bombing.”
“I’m so sorry.” His mom reached out her free hand and took Amberlyn’s. “I know Thanksgivings can be hard when you’re mourning, but today will give us a chance to remember how lucky we were to have those friends in our lives.”
Amberlyn nodded. “I’d like that.”
Chapter 22
Amberlyn sat beside Luke at the long table, their Thanksgiving feast spread out before them while Luke patiently cut his niece’s turkey. No one seemed to find it odd that he’d taken on that chore, nor was there any flicker of surprise when Olivia insisted on sitting beside her uncle Luke.
Across the table, Luke’s mom and brother-in-law took turns eating their own meals and helping Charlotte, Luke’s youngest niece.
“We were thinking about taking the kids for a walk in the park in the morning.” Brianna set a roll on her younger daughter’s plate. “Does anyone want to come with us?”
“I’m game if you go early enough,” Luke said. “I thought tomorrow afternoon I’d take Amberlyn down to the station so she could see Mom work, assuming that’s okay.”
“Of course,” Pam said. “I’ll leave your names at the desk.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Luke finished cutting his niece’s food and scooped a hearty serving of mashed potatoes onto his plate. Directing his next comment to Amberlyn, he said, “I guess I should have asked if you even want to go to the TV studio.”
She hadn’t anticipated that possibility being presented to her, but she couldn’t deny that she rather liked the idea of getting a behind-the-scenes peek at network news. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“I should probably warn you that things get a bit chaotic right before we go on air,” Pam said.
“I can imagine,” Amberlyn said.
“What stories are you working on right now?” Luke asked.
“I’m not sure what will happen today to make tomorrow’s news.” Pam shrugged, but something in her expression hinted at some hidden turmoil.
“I’m not talking about the dailies,” Luke said. “You’re always researching some big story.”
Pam flicked a glance at Amberlyn, a silent message passing from her to Luke.
Luke must have understood because he said, “Mom, Amberlyn is FBI. You don’t have to worry about her leaking anything.”
“You’re FBI?” Brianna asked. “That sounds dangerous.”
“Yes, but I spend most of my time working at a desk.” Amberlyn wasn’t going to mention that she had been the arresting officer for a terrorist only last month.
“And Amberlyn knows how to keep a secret,” Luke added, his focus still on his mother.
“Sorry.” Pam cast an apologetic look at Amberlyn. “It’s a bit of an occupational hazard to keep information confidential until we have enough facts to share the details.”
“I understand completely.” More than Amberlyn cared to admit. She wished the situation with Kevin Tate and the nuclear weapons in Azerbaijan would resolve itself so she wouldn’t be in this uncomfortable situation of hiding information from her coworkers.
“You probably heard about the death of the news correspondent in Turkey,” Pam said.
Amberlyn lifted her eyebrows. “Kevin Tate?”
“Yes.” Pam took a sip of her water. “I worked with him a lot over the years, starting when I was still living in Virginia.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” Luke reached out and put his hand on his mom’s. “I didn’t realize you were friends.”
“Kevin had a lot of friends,” Pam said. “That’s one of the reasons he was so successful. If he uncovered a story worth sharing, he rarely had to go far to find a home for it.”
Luke released his mom’s hand and asked, “What story angle are you researching?”
“I can’t put my finger on it, but something about him being a random victim doesn’t feel right.”
Amberlyn glanced at Luke, impressed that he kept his focus on his mother without giving away any sign of his knowledge of Tate’s death. “Have you found anything to support your theory?”
“I’ve been looking at the other victims.” Pam reached for her water glass but didn’t lift it. “I find it odd that both Kevin Tate and Torsten Grigoryan were killed by a serial killer in Istanbul.”
“Grigoryan?” Luke asked as though he’d never heard the name before.
“He’s Armenian. Personally, I think he was working for someone high up in the government. And if I’m right, someone had him and Kevin Tate killed.”
Amberlyn fought to keep her expression neutral. Was it possible Luke’s mom had as much information about these men’s deaths as she did? “How did you come to that conclusion?” Amberlyn asked.
Luke’s father buttered his roll. “Maybe we should save this discussion for later. We’re supposed to be reflecting on what we’re thankful for this year, not analyzing possible conspiracy theories.”
Pam took the directive with a good-natured shrug. “My husband always thinks I’m looking for conspiracy theories,” she told Amberlyn.
“Because you are,” Brianna teased.
“That’s my job,” Pam said.
Amberlyn’s gaze met Pam’s. “Mine too.”
* * *
Family games, a walk in the park, a football game on TV. Luke fell into the usual post-Thanksgiving dinner rituals, as he always did, but through it all, his mother’s comments about Kevin Tate and Torsten Grigoryan circled through his mind. What did his mother know that he didn’t?
Amberlyn emerged from the kitchen, where she’d been chatting with his mom and Brianna while putting away the rest of the pie.
Suspecting Amberlyn needed to talk through his mom’s comments as much as he did, Luke pushed to a stand. “Amberlyn, do you want me to show you around the rest of the building? There’s a pretty decent gym on the fifteenth floor.”
“That would be great.”
Luke spoke to the room in general. “We’ll be back in a little bit.”
Before anyone could invite themselves to join them, Luke headed for the door and escorted Amberlyn out of his parents’ condo.
Amberlyn immediately glanced both directions to ensure they were alone and lowered her voice to a whisper. “How did your mom figure out Grigoryan works for the Armenian government?”
“I don’t know, but we need to find out.”
Amberlyn lifted both eyebrows. “Are you planning to interrogate your own mother?”
“Not exactly.” Asking questions sounded much better than interrogating. “I’d talk to her now, but with my family around, I won’t have any privacy. It’ll be better to talk to her at the studio tomorrow.”
“You really think you’ll have more privacy at a television studio?”
Luke nodded. “She has a private office, and if I’m right, that’s where she’ll have most of her research.”
“I guess this weekend isn’t going to be a vacation after all.”
“Sorry about that.” Luke couldn’t deny that he’d been looking forward to a few days without thinking about the situation in the Near East. “Maybe we can go catch a movie or something tomorrow after we visit the studio.”
“We probably shouldn’t make plans until after we talk with your mom,” Amberlyn said. “If she has additional insight into Grigoryan’s and Tate’s murders, we may want to work tomorrow night.”
“We won’t want to work.”
“Okay, we may need to work,” Amberlyn said.
Luke hated that she was right.
A door opened down the hall, and a man emerged with a fluffy dog on a leash. The dog immediately started barking.
Luke led Amberlyn to the elevator and hit the Down button. Within moments, he and Amberlyn were inside the elevator with the yapping dog and its owner.
As soon as they reached the fifteenth floor, Luke and Amberlyn escaped the ill-mannered canine and his apologetic owner. The doors closed, and the barking faded as the elevator started its descent once more.
“Here’s the gym.” Luke punched in a code and opened the door to reveal a line of treadmills overlooking the wall of windows. Weights, exercise bikes, and ellipticals occupied the space on the other side of the long, narrow room. “Do you want to go for a run in the morning?”
