Page 9 of Where Dreams Begin

“The hell you do!” Luke followed her across the room, and as she reached for the doorknob, he slammed his palm against the door to keep her trapped in his office until he was good and ready to let her go.

“You will never understand how wretched I feel, Mrs. Brooks, so drop the pretty pretense that you do. I want my private life kept private, and I expect you to respect that wish even if Pam Strobble doesn’t. Is that understood?”

What Catherine understood was that he had no intention of opening his door until she agreed and being trapped there frightened her as badly as his fiery temper. He was standing so close she could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes burn with a dangerous gleam, and it was all she could do to nod.

“Good.” Luke swung open the door and stepped out of the way. “Now go on home, and if you pass Pam on the way out, tell her she’s fired.”

Chapter Three

Luke slammed the door in Catherine’s face and then threw the bolt, or she would have marched right back into his office and argued that when he was furious with her, he had absolutely no right to take it out on Pam Strobble. She raised her fist to pound out her disapproval; then, refusing to sink to his level, she let her hand fall. She couldn’t leave and allow Pam to face his wrath alone, but she was far too upset to continue opening the mail and simply paced the office until the personable secretary returned.

Pam came breezing in carrying a McDonald’s bag and milkshake, but Catherine’s anxious frown erased her smile. “What’s happened?”

Catherine gestured toward Luke’s door as she rushed through a highly censored version of what had actually transpired. “You needn’t worry, though, because I won’t allow him to vent his foul temper on you.”

Pam raised a hand in a gentle, soothing gesture. “Thanks, but I’ve lost track of how many times Luke’s fired me, and I’ve yet to clean out my desk. Trust me, he’ll calm down once he’s had lunch. Left on his own, he often forgets to eat, and then he’s as cranky as a toddler without a nap.”

Catherine winced at Pam’s lack of understanding. “Believe me, his temper soared far above the cranky range. In fact, I’d say he was close to a murderous rage.”

“Then it’s a good thing I bought him a strawberry shake, because he’ll agree to anything for one of these. In fact, I always wave a strawberry shake in front of him whenever I ask for a raise.”

Pam appeared more amused that disturbed, but Catherine remained frantic. “Just remember that this is all my fault, and don’t let him bully you.”

“Girl, my husband stands six feet six inches tall and weighs 240 pounds, but he can’t bully me. Luke Starns doesn’t stand a chance.”

Catherine braced herself, but as Pam approached Luke’s door, Nick entered the office from the courtyard. He gripped his skateboard with one hand and with the other held the door open for two fair-haired girls.

They were an appealing pair with slender figures and creamy complexions, but there were dark circles beneath their wide, blue eyes. Their jeans had once been tight, but now bagged at the knees, and their cropped sweaters drooped off their sagging shoulders. One was dragging a backpack which had become too heavy to carry.

“Come on in,” Nick coaxed. “Luke’s a cool dude, and he’ll see you’re treated right. Is Luke here? I want him to hear what these girls have to say about Felix Mendoza.”

Pam sent Catherine a startled glance, then shrugged and left the McDonald’s bag and shake atop the file cabinet near Luke’s door. “Let me tell him what’s up,” she said, but she took the precaution of using the telephone intercom on her desk to summon him. She mentioned Felix Mendoza the instant he answered.

“They look scared to death,” Pam turned away to whisper. “You better get out here real quick.”

Luke appeared mere seconds after Pam had hung up. He sent Catherine an incredulous glance but quickly swung his attention toward the girls. Then, with no trace of his earlier irascible mood, he introduced himself as the center’s director.

“Would you care to come into my office, or would you be more comfortable talking out here?” he asked.

The pair had barely inched their way inside the office and quickly scanned the room with darting glances. “Out here,” they responded in unison. There were comfortable chairs for visitors, but they chose to stand.

“We heard you served lunch,” the taller of the two said. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, while her companion’s fell past her shoulders in loose waves.

Pam sat at her desk, and Catherine moved around beside her while Nick took one of the visitor chairs. Appearing completely relaxed, Luke leaned back against the second desk and braced himself with his arms. “We’ll be happy to give you something to eat, but first, why don’t you tell me what you know about Felix?”

The girls exchanged a fearful glance, then again spoke at once. “He was just a friend.”

“I’ll just bet he was,” Luke replied smoothly. “Tell me something more about him.”

Catherine glanced down at Pam, who was taking notes in a steno pad rather than handling the center’s other business as it had first appea

red. The disheveled girls looked to be fifteen or sixteen, and that they might have awakened in a pimp’s filthy bed turned Catherine’s stomach. It was difficult to believe their lives could have been so awful at home that they would have willingly taken such a revolting risk.

“They barely knew him,” Nick interjected. “But they were there when he died. Go on. If you can tell me, you can tell Luke.”

When the huddled pair remained reticent, Luke prompted softly, “How long have you been in LA?”

“We got here last week,” the ponytailed girl replied. “We thought Hollywood would be, well, more sparkly.”

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