With one quick twist, he shoved her face against the wall
“Move and you’re history,” the intruder said, pulling Julianna’s hands behind her.
That voice. She knew that voice.
Swiftly, big deft hands patted her down, moving under her arms, sliding around to her breasts, then down between her legs, at which she felt a familiar pull low in her stomach. He clicked on the light and yanked her around.
His eyes went wide. “Jules?”
Five years and he still looked the same. Same cobalt-blue eyes that crinkled around the corners whether he was smiling or not, the same lean, hard features that said he was a man’s man—a man with a purpose—and always in control. Qualities she once thought sexy and desirable.
He was so close she felt his heat. His familiar scent made her blood rush. And if the look in his eyes was any indication, he felt the same. But then, lack of desire had never been their problem. In the end, desire hadn’t helped the marriage. She hated what they’d done to each other in the year before the divorce.
Things that would stay with them forever.
Dear Reader,
I’m delighted to bring you another COLD CASES: L.A. novel and again delve into the inner world of law enforcement—a world that’s always intrigued me. While career choices took me in another direction, I did enroll in my city’s civilian police academy. Little did I know that the six-week class would spark the idea for this miniseries.
Husband and Wife Reunion is the last book in the series, but it seems perfect to end with Luke’s story. It’s about second chances, and don’t we all wish we could do some things over? But even when given the opportunity we don’t always make the best choices. I believe true character is revealed by the choices we make when our personal risks are the greatest. Detective Luke Coltrane is a man who has hit rock bottom. He’s lost his son and his wife, alienated most of the people he loves, and it nearly cost him his job. But he’s on the mend and determined to put his life in order, starting with his relationship with his father. But he never expected to run into his ex-wife, Julianna, back home in Santa Fe. That’s one fence he knows he can’t mend. To do that, he’d have to take the greatest risk of all…and open his heart to love.
Luke and Julianna have been through a terrible tragedy. In order to find love and commitment again, they must overcome nearly insurmountable odds. I didn’t know until I wrote the end of this book whether they’d be able to do it or not. I’m happy with the outcome and hope you enjoy Luke and Julianna’s story.
I always like hearing from readers. You can write me at P.O. Box 2292, Mesa, AZ 85214, or e-mail me at [email protected]. For upcoming books and other fun stuff, visit my Web site at www.LindaStyle.com and www.superauthors.com.
May all your dreams come true,
Linda Style
Husband and Wife Reunion
Linda Style
For Courtney and Connor,
You are the stars that light up my life.
I love you both.
My sincere thanks and appreciation to all the people who
contributed to the research for this book, and all the books
in the COLD CASES: L.A. miniseries—the professionals with
the Los Angeles Police Department, the city of Los Angeles
Chamber of Commerce and the Orange County RWA
members who so generously shared their expertise
about the City of Angels.
Many thanks to my editor, Victoria Curran, for her guidance
and uncanny ability to see the essence of a story.
Since this is a work of fiction, I’ve taken some liberties
with facts where needed.
Any errors are solely mine.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
“YOU CROSSED THE LINE. You’re going to regret it.”
Julianna Chevalair listened to the distorted digitalized voice, heard a click and then the dial tone droned in her ear.
She swallowed around the tightness in her throat, closed her eyes and waited for the next message. The recorder had indicated there were three.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to stop you.”
Her heart raced. She’d ignored the caller’s earlier e-mails warning her to stop writing the story, and the second installment was about to run in the magazine’s next issue.
A moment later, the next call started. As she listened, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. A chill ran up her spine. Hands shaking, she clicked off in the middle of the message.
How had he gotten her number?
The Achilles’ Heel received dozens of crank calls, letters and even more e-mail messages from readers who didn’t like some of its stories. But this was new. She’d never received a phone call at home before. And the two e-mails she’d gotten prior to leaving San Francisco had definite threatening undertones.
It creeped her out and she’d jumped at Abe’s kind invitation to stay at his ranch outside Santa Fe. Now the decision seemed even more right. No one knew where she was, not even her editor. Her ex-father-in-law’s ranch was the last place anyone would expect her to go.
She heaved a sigh, fell into Abe’s recliner, its leather soft and cracked with age, and switched on her laptop. When she finished the piece she was working on right now, she’d be done with the series about a little girl’s abduction and murder in Southern California.
It was only one of many she’d written about missing children who’d met the same fate. And someone wanted her to stop. She bristled at the thought. If anything, he’d made her even more determined to complete the series. She’d never give in to a coward who made anonymous threats. She’d finish the story even if she had to go somewhere else to do it. But she would finish.
She pulled up Word on her laptop, went to the last page of the story and typed in, “If you recognize anything about the individual profiled in this article—if you know anything about this case, call the LAPD, your local FBI office or 1-800-CRIME TV. Help us take this killer off the streets before he harms anoth—”
A noise outside made her sit up straight as a soldier. She stopped typing. She was used to city sounds, but here in the desert, in the stillness of the night, every small noise seemed magnified.
Listening, she heard nothing more. Okay, she was jumpy because of the messages, but that really was silly;