Lucy's Chance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  About the Author

  Books Available from Bold Strokes Books

  Lucy’s Chance

  Lucy severed the connection to her first love when the seduction of college life pulled at her desires. Now in their thirties, Lucy returns home to cover a story where Detective Erica Chance plays a central character. Erica has spent a decade trying to banish the memory of Lucy, and on the surface, she has succeeded. Now, the reporter is back in her life, insisting she is a valued resource in the search for their hometown’s first serial killer. Old wounds are opened and new enemies are discovered as Lucy tries to take her chance.

  Lucy’s Chance

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Lucy’s Chance

  © 2017 By Jackie D. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-028-3

  This Electronic Original is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: December 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Victoria Villasenor and Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Melody Pond

  By the Author

  Lands End

  Lucy’s Chance

  The After Dark Series:

  Infiltration

  Pursuit

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the Bold Strokes team, for your continued support. Especially, Vic Villasenor and Cindy Cresap for helping fill in all the missing pieces, even when you have had to tell me several times over. Thank you to my mom for always reading and pointing out any and everything that was missed (I promise I will figure out the whole “preposition at the end of a sentence thing” one day). Thank you, Alexis, for always supporting my desire to create these worlds and live in them for a bit. And last but not least, the readers who keep cracking open the books to escape with me for a little while. Your words of encouragement and appreciation mean everything.

  Dedication

  For my sister, Julie.

  You’ve turned into such an awesome adult.

  I continue to be in awe of your courage and bravery, every day you put on that badge; and your ability to consume impressive amounts of funny tasting cider.

  I’m glad Mom didn’t listen when I told her to put you back on the day you were born. I love you.

  Chapter One

  Lucy Rodriguez heard the clicking back and forth along the side of her bed. The small circles were next, and then the whimpering. She pulled herself over to the corner and peeked out from underneath the covers. A golden puff of happiness and fluff danced back and forth with her leash in her mouth.

  “No, Holly.” She moaned. “Just five more minutes.”

  The dog paused, blinking. Holly knew just as well as she did that it wouldn’t be five more minutes. Lucy would get up now to do her bidding. The Pomeranian had become the boss the day she brought her home from the rescue shelter. The only thing that changed in the last two years was that Holly gained a little more control every day.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  Holly did another small circle and added a bounce for good measure.

  “Fine.” She pulled the covers off and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She took a moment to stretch, trying to roll the kinks out of her neck and shoulders, which had been there now as long as she could remember. The small, tight knots were remnants and a constant reminder of the fitful sleep that had become her norm in recent years.

  Lucy shuffled over to the chair and pulled on the sweatshirt she had thrown in a heap the night before. She grabbed her cell and keys while putting on her flip-flops. She stared down at Holly who was still bouncing with her leash in her mouth, waiting for their morning trek downstairs.

  “After you, Your Majesty.” She pulled the door open and allowed Holly to traipse ahead.

  The elevator slowly descended the twelve levels of her apartment building. Holly sat facing the doors as if she were awaiting her loyal subjects. The elevator bounced to a stop, and Holly knowingly wagged her tail. She bounded out of the elevator and took a left, heading toward the outdoor pool area.

  Once outside, Lucy unhooked Holly from her leash and let her wander. The fluff ball immediately headed over to the small grass area and started her morning ritual of sniffing each square inch. Lucy sat down on one of the lounge chairs and clicked the email icon on the lower portion of her phone screen. There was nothing too earth-shattering—a few coupons from her favorite online shoe store, an Evite for a coworker’s thirtieth birthday, and two from her mom. She opened the first.

  Lucy,

  I haven’t heard from you in a week. Is everything okay? I don’t know why you have to live in San Diego. There are plenty of newspapers here, near your family.

  She opened the next email.

  I forgot to say, Love, Mom.

  Love, Mom

  Lucy laughed. She could set her watch by the repetitiveness of this conversation. Her parents wanted her near them, just like her other three siblings. They never understood why she left Northern California to go to school in San Diego. They understood even less why she took a job overseas as a reporter. Their frustration hit its paramount when she left that job and took one with a newspaper in San Diego when she got back. The answer was simple, and one she’d never share with them. She couldn’t live in Clearbrook without seeing Erica, and she couldn’t see Erica without wishing she could undo an irrational night twelve years ago, when she foolishly threw away the one and only person who had ever owned her heart, thus changing the course of her life forever.

  She flopped backward onto the lounge chair. Holly came trotting over and stuck her nose against her cheek. Realizing Lucy was fine and just being theatrical, she went back to her inspection of the various pieces of purposefully placed furniture around the patio area.

  “You’d be a jerk of a human,�
� she said to her.

  “Ugh. What are you moping about now?” Grayson took a seat next to her on the lounge chair. He folded his robe over his legs and sipped his coffee. Grayson, with his perfectly manicured nails, shaped eyebrows, and chiseled features, was her best friend and voice of reason.

  “My mom wants me to come home.”

  Holly, being the traitor she always was when Grayson was around, hurried over. She did her best twirl and booty shake, which earned her a nuzzle to the face and a kiss on the nose.

  Grayson turned and looked at her, still scratching behind Holly’s ears. “So, go home. You always talk about how wonderful Clearbrook is, how you had such an amazing childhood, blah, blah, blah.”

  Lucy pulled her hood tightly over her head and chewed on the strings. “No.”

  “Always so dramatic.” He tugged on the small opening she had created to breathe. “Just go. Make Mama happy.”

  “You say that because she likes you better than me.”

  He leaned back on one arm, his leg swinging up and down. “Your mother has impeccable taste.”

  “You just finally got her hair to the right color. Now she comes every six weeks, just to see you. I’m a sideshow.”

  “Like I said, impeccable taste.”

  “You could come with me. Just for the weekend.” She offered her brightest smile, hoping to appeal to his sense of loyalty. Grayson was not only a perfect buffer but was a retreat she could escape to if things went off the rails.

  “Oh, no. I hear they have a five gay limit up there. I don’t want to tip the scales and throw off the equilibrium for the rest of us. I wouldn’t be able to show my face at Pride ever again.”

  “I hate you.” She pulled the strings again, making the hole around her face barely the size of a silver dollar. She knew the habit annoyed Grayson, but she couldn’t help herself. She had pulled on the strings of her sweatshirts since she was a kid, something she didn’t really think about until she started seeing a therapist. Her mother always said her facial expressions gave away whatever she was feeling, despite what she said. She tried to be more cognizant of these behaviors, and now she peeped out of her self-created cave to look at Grayson pleadingly.

  He stood and grabbed Holly’s leash, shooing off her comment with a single, elegant hand movement. “See how much you hate me when you pick up Holly tonight and I’ve babied her with fresh bacon and massages all day.”

  “Thanks for watching her.”

  He blew her a kiss and strolled back inside. Holly never bothered to glance back. Typical.

  She sat rooted in her spot for a few more moments. The morning sun was starting to radiate its potency, and the pricks of heat felt wonderful on her skin. The thought of going home squelched her moment of enjoyment. She loved her family, and she missed them terribly, but having to see Erica was too painful. Seeing Erica when she was home, or more accurately, not seeing Erica, tore at her insides. If she was honest, she wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten here. The situation seemed to have spiraled out of her control. At first, she avoided Erica because she knew how badly she had hurt her and couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes. Then, after a while, the avoidance became a habit, and she worried it had moved past the point of reconnection. She feared the awkwardness of being together, in a situation where talking would tarnish the memories she held so close. All she had left of Erica were those memories, and she couldn’t bear to part with them.

  * * *

  Erica Chance watched the last few seconds tick off the timer of her treadmill. It began to slow, and then thankfully turned to a walk. A familiar throb thrummed from her right ankle, and she tried to shake it out as she continued her pace.

  “I’m getting old, Bella.”

  The basset hound continued to lie on the couch and shifted her head slightly at her name. Her oversized paws remained crossed in front of her as she lay on her side. One of her ears flopped over her mouth, covering her nose.

  Erica hopped off the machine and headed toward the bathroom. Her morning routine of breakfast, followed by a run on the treadmill, was as close as she came to going to church. She reveled in the consistency and dependability of routine in general. Her cell phone rang, redirecting her to the kitchen counter. At first, she thought she hadn’t heard the dispatcher correctly, but upon asking for a repeat, she knew what she was saying was true. There was a body at the old Miller Farm, and she needed to report there immediately.

  Erica had been with the Clearbrook Police Department for ten years, and there had never been a murder. There had been robberies, theft, and even a few domestic violence cases, but never a murder.

  She hung up the phone and for a moment, wasn’t sure what to do next. She leaned against the counter, feeling a bit sick to her stomach. If there was a murder, the likelihood of knowing the victim was high in this community. She stared at Bella, wishing she could talk to her. Of course, even if she could, that would mean catching her in a moment she was actually awake and lucid. Bella was thoroughly engaged in a level of sleep Erica would never be able to achieve. Over the years, Erica had become accustomed to nights of fitful rest. Images of abused women, abandoned children, and drunk-driving accidents haunted her dreams. These instances managed to weave their way through her slumbering thoughts. She couldn’t remember a morning where she woke up feeling completely rested.

  She texted her partner, Diego Rodriguez, to let him know she would pick him up as soon as she showered. On her way to the bathroom, she patted Bella on the head. This unexpected jostle was enough to wake the lump, but just barely. Erica could hear the snores before she opened the shower door. Bella had become a source of therapy over the years. Regardless of how chaotic her day had been, no matter how uneventful her love life was at the time, Bella was consistent. She knew what to expect, and that was not only comforting, it was needed.

  Thirty minutes later, she pulled up outside Diego’s house. He was already waiting outside, ready for the day. But today wouldn’t be like any other day they had ever spent together. He got in the car, but he didn’t greet her with his usual smile. Instead, he was somber. He shared her worry, and the concern shadowed his face and darkened his eyes. Usually, they would stop at the local bagel shop, get coffee, and head to the station. Any other day, they would spend this time in the car talking about his children and his wife. They would talk about Bella and what their plans were for the weekend. But this morning, neither of them said anything as Erica maneuvered down the familiar streets, heading for the back roads of their native town.

  Erica had known Diego and the rest of his family for as long as she could remember. There wasn’t a single significant milestone in her life where the Rodriguez family hadn’t been there. Everything from first home runs to first heartbreaks, the family couldn’t have been more a part of her if they had shared a bloodline. Everyone from the matriarch of the family, Grandma Rodriguez, to the newest member, Sofia, held a special place in her heart. But none more so than his sister, Lucy. Lucy had left a fracture in her soul she still felt to this day.

  They pulled up to the old farm and drove past the broken, rusted gate. Erica took the car down the dry, mocha colored dirt road. Dust and rocks popped from behind the tires, leaving a sandy cloud in their wake. The scene was easy to see. Even from five hundred feet away, there was no mistaking something significant had taken place. Five police cruisers, all the department owned, were parked with their lights still flashing.

  The last time Erica had stepped foot on the Miller property was during high school. Sam Miller had thrown a party while his parents were out of town for the weekend, and everyone in their junior class had attended, or that’s how it had seemed anyway. She remembered walking to her car along this dirt road, in the midst of her classmates in various stages of drunken exploration. It had been a great party that was talked about for weeks after. Now, these flashing lights would be the memory she flipped to whenever someone mentioned the Miller property. The night of teenage fun and excitement would fade away,
leaving a life cut short in its place. Erica took a deep breath as they got out of the car. It would’ve been a beautiful spring morning. The dampness of the morning dew was still thick in the air, cooling everything it wrapped itself around. She came around the side of the car, mentally bracing herself for what she was about to see. The uniformed police officers parted, letting Erica and Diego through.

  “What do we know?” Erica asked.

  Jake Newton, the newest officer on the police force, spoke first. “We got a call from Kenny Miller at around six this morning. He had come up here to take inventory of the farm equipment that’s going to auction. He found her here, just like this.”

  Erica pulled gloves out of her pocket and slid them over her hands. She knelt next to the body, wanting to get a good look at the woman. Erica forced herself to look beyond the mask of blood and dirt. She realized the woman was young, probably somewhere between nineteen to twenty-one. She wore a UC San Diego sweatshirt, blood partially concealing the letters. Her dark brown hair couldn’t cover the gaping hole in her head, making it painfully clear she had been hit with a significant amount of force. Erica delicately picked up her hand to look at her fingernails. Under the pink chipped paint, the flesh had been scrubbed clean. Erica stood and took a step back, wanting to take in the whole scene. She had seen her share of upsetting scenes since becoming a police officer, but nothing like this. She had seen dead bodies at the scenes of car accidents, had witnessed bleeding women and children at the hands of an angry spouse. She had investigated a few suicides over the years. Over time, she had learned to divorce herself from the feelings of the victims to do her job. But this was different, not because of her age, or her injuries, although those were disturbing enough. No, this was different because it was her first murder, a sign that her quiet town of Clearbrook wasn’t safe from the violence of the bigger cities. She tried to force down the fear and concentrate.