3 Dime If I Know (21 page)

“Thanks to you, I am,” he said. “The hospital called. The reason I threw up so much the other night is beyond belief.”

A knot formed in my stomach. I stepped back to search his face, nearly tripping over the dog. Rafe steadied me, but I still felt off-kilter. I stumbled over to a wooden bench and sat. Madonna leaned into me, her head on my lap.

“What are you saying?” I asked, not sure I could put my worst fears into words. “Someone made you ill on purpose?”

He perched next to me on the bench, hands clasped together. “Someone poisoned me.”

My breath stalled. “Are they sure?”

“They ran the test three times. Positive for arsenic every time.”

“Arsenic?” I went cold all over. “Do you use rat poison at the golf shop?”

“Not to my knowledge. But even if I did, I wouldn’t be poisoned by touching it, which I would never do. The hospital said the poison was in something I ate or drank. To be on the safe side, I threw out all the food and liquids in my house. Even the squirt bottle of mustard.”

The stomach knot doubled in size. “I’m stunned. I don’t know anything about arsenic except that it’s historically been used to kill people. Someone tried to poison you? I can’t believe it, but it must be true if they tested three times. Dear Lord. How? When?”

“That’s the tricky part. They can’t narrow down the timeline of the dose. It could have been at the Pro Shop. It could have been before I went to the police station or while I was there. It could have even been at my parents’ house. They said I could have had a reaction in as little as thirty minutes after ingestion. I keep thinking about that diet soda I drank in Potomac. My doctor wants hair samples and fingernail clippings to test to see how long this has been going on.”

“You’re going to do that, right?” He nodded, and I finally felt it was safe to gulp in autumn-scented air. “Good. We need to understand if this is a one-time deal. Wait—you think your family might be involved?”

“It’s a strong possibility.”

“No way.” What kind of family would poison a son? That went beyond the pale. “There has to be another explanation.”

Rafe’s eyes bored into mine. “While the hospital can’t be specific about a timeline, I know for a fact I didn’t feel sick until after we arrived in Potomac. When you couple that with the knowledge that I had similar episodes in my teens, we have a pattern. Someone in my family hates me and wants me dead.”

Needing to touch him, I reached for his arm. “I-I-I hear what you’re saying, and I’m worried sick about your health. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Whoever did this should be punished. But, Rafe. Your family? That’s a strong accusation. We should approach the matter with caution.”

“Why the hell should we do that? Someone tried to kill me. I’ve already called the county cops. They’ve sent a search team to scour the house for arsenic.”

Hell hath no fury like a poisoned Golden. My lungs tightened. “That’s a bad idea.”

“I hope they all rot in jail.”

“I never knew you felt this way about your family.”

“I do.” He blew like a winded thoroughbred. “It’s my turn to hit them where it hurts. Even if the cops find nothing, my parents will be embarrassed and humiliated by the investigation. That doesn’t balance out years of their crap, but it’s a damned fine start.”

“This is shocking. I’m usually the one jumping in headfirst and you’re the cautious one, but you’ve flip-flopped so far the other way, I’m alarmed. You’ve convicted them in your mind without a fair hearing. Even if, God forbid, one of them did this terrible thing, do you want to punish the entire family? I urge you to think about the larger picture. Be cautious.”

He rose and resumed pacing the central monument. “To hell with being cautious. I’m done giving my family the benefit of the doubt.”

Madonna and I watched him, not knowing what he’d say or do next. His take-no-prisoners attitude floored me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around his vicious need to strike back at his blood kin. I’d heard of people who responded passively to aggression until they snapped. Is that what happened to Rafe? He simply couldn’t take it anymore?

Or was he the kind of man who kept track of slights? Did he keep a virtual tally of each injustice, real or perceived?

That kind of thinking didn’t cut it with me. Sure, Rafe’s family could’ve been warmer and more sensitive to his needs and nicer to me, but tarnishing everyone’s reputation wasn’t equitable.

How could I fix this?

Terrible things had been done to him, in the past and the present. I ached for the injustice of it all, and I wanted Rafe to be vindicated, but we didn’t need to go nuclear in the process. We needed a plan and, for that, we needed cooler heads.

“Why aren’t you agreeing with me?” he demanded.

“I am.”

“You’re scowling at me. And arguing. Those aren’t supportive actions.”

How could he doubt me? I loved him. I’d stood by him throughout this entire process. With my pulse going wild, I struggled to remain poised, but his accusation hurt. “I’m concerned about your strong reaction. In my experience, people who poison their enemies don’t react well to pressure. If, and that’s a big if, a family member is responsible for this crime against you, we have no way of knowing which person is responsible without a police investigation. You’re not thinking clearly. We’re not prepared to deal with this alone.”

“I don’t need this. I thought you were on my side.”

“I am on your side. Take a few deep breaths, and give your mind time to clear. Head back to the condo. Get some perspective on this.”

He stared down at me, an ice storm in his gaze. “On this? Or on us?”

“On this.” I rose, dislodging Madonna who was all scrambling paws and flying fur as she huddled next to me. Taking a chance that we hadn’t passed the point of no return, I leaned forward and kissed Rafe’s chiseled lips. “Call me if you hear anything more.”

I couldn’t face Mama yet. She’d take one look at me and know something was wrong. Instead of heading back to my home office, I left the park and sauntered downtown with the dog, numb to the cold, my thoughts in a heated jumble.

Why would Rafe’s family target him? He wasn’t integral to running the family business. He wasn’t a financial kingpin. He didn’t even want to hang out with them. It made no sense, though I’d be the first to say his family wasn’t the warm or fuzzy type.

I could easily imagine his imperial sister Regina, his reputation-conscious mother, or his controlling father trying to manipulate Rafe into falling into lockstep with them, but poison? That went beyond the pale.

Who else had been there? His brother, though Hill didn’t appear to be competing with Rafe over anything. Mary had been there. As the housekeeper’s daughter, she’d grown up with the family, but she’d never been an insider. The housekeeper had been present, too. And Rafe’s designer cousin Ashley.

Both the housekeeper and Ashley had expressed some warmth toward Rafe. I had no personal read on Mary. She’d been an emotional zero.

Our visit to their household had been spontaneous. No one knew we were coming. No, that wasn’t right. Hill, Regina, and Mary were at the jail. They knew of our intent to drive down to see Rafe’s parents. They could have called ahead.

Come to think of it, they probably alerted the family of our impending arrival. Was that enough time to prepare a killer drink for Rafe? Had my water been poisoned as well? I had been too nervous to drink any of it, thank goodness.

Speculating wasn’t getting me anywhere. I needed information. I stopped to wait for the traffic to clear at the intersection of Main Street and Burkittsville Road. Fortunately, Madonna stopped, too. The familiar downtown buildings helped ease the chill of murder out from my heart.

Madonna veered left, and I followed her lead, right to the door of the bank. Charlie’s bank. And the bank where Madonna’s late owner had worked. Did she recognize the place?

The bank. My brain made a connection. Charlie had volunteered to run credit checks on Rafe’s family. What had happened to that information? Usually credit checks took a few days. I hadn’t seen my ex-husband in over a week. I should go in for a status update, but I had the dog.

I couldn’t leave her outside. What if someone stole her? Hogan’s Glen wasn’t the sweet little place it used to be. The dog or the info? With Rafe’s freedom and potentially his life on the line, I needed that information.

I squared my shoulders and opened the door. Two of the four tellers rushed over. “I know dogs aren’t allowed,” I started, “and promise I’ll take her right out. Would someone please ask Charlie to come outside for a moment?”

“We wouldn’t dream of letting you take her away without us saying hello,” Norma said, dog biscuit in hand. “You leave Madonna right here with us, and we’ll take good care of her, won’t we, girls?”

Air whistled softly through my teeth. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Hello, my beautiful doggie,” Ellie said, taking the leash. “We’ve been hoping you’d bring her by. Dudley used to bring her in all the time.”

“Thank you. I’ll just be a minute, then.” I edged away, certain Madonna would bolt toward me any minute, but she seemed to enjoy being the belle of the ball.

Charlie’s face glowed with satisfaction when I knocked on his door. “I’m glad you came by.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while. You been doing okay?”

“Sure. Thought I’d stay away, and let you come to me. My plan worked.” He leaned out and told Karen to hold his calls. Then he shut the door, motioned me over to his guest chair, and sat beside me. “What can I do for you?”

He hadn’t tried to kiss me or compliment me or even propose again. Was that his new strategy? What was he up to? “Did you have time to run those credit checks for me on the Goldens?”

“I did.”

He breathed deeply and slowly exhaled, as if he savored my fragrance. I patted my windblown hair self-consciously. “What did you find out?”

“In a minute. First, I read the newspaper story about Rafe and the Madeira woman. I don’t want him around our daughters.”

“He didn’t kill anyone.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“As sure as I am of anything. Please, tell me what you found out on the money front.”

“All three Golden children inherited multimillion-dollar trusts from their great-grandfather. Rafe’s mother and father have substantial real estate assets and not much else. The brother already ran through all his money. The sister’s trust is heavily invested in risky ventures. Golden Enterprises is generating low returns for investors and losing clients right and left.”

“All of them need money?”

“Looks like it.”

“And Rafe’s trust fund has liquid assets?”

“He has a great credit rating, unlike his family members. Why’s he out here in Hogan’s Glen pretending to be a golf pro and working for pennies? I don’t trust him, Clee.”

“He’s not
pretending
to be a golf pro, he
is
a golf pro. He wants to be his own man.”

“People with that much money think they walk on water.” Charlie reached over and took my hand. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

His touch felt warm, familiar, and comforting, which confused me. “I don’t want that either.”

He drew a little closer, his thumb caressing my hand. “You’re a good person to care for others and to help them. I didn’t appreciate what I had until I lost it. I’m so sorry for everything. I was a fool. Can you forgive me?”

The ceiling didn’t fall in, nor did the floor collapse. But tears sprang to my eyes. “Not now, Charlie. I can’t handle this now.”

“Nothing to handle. I’m not going anywhere. Bud Flook waited nearly forty years for your mother. I figure I can take things slow the second time around. I messed up. No one knows that better than me.”

“I’m involved with someone. Look elsewhere.”

“Nope. I know the real thing when I see it. I’ll wait for you. Meanwhile, I stand ready to assist you in any way possible.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your help. And I should be going. I left Madonna in the lobby.”

We rose, Charlie still clinging to my hand. “Thanks for the financial information,” I said. “I don’t know how that helps yet, but it will.”

“Any time.”

I glanced down at our connected hands. Unconsciously, I’d interlaced my fingers through his, like we used to do. Oddly, it didn’t feel wrong. I felt grateful for his help. I leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He turned, and our lips met, dead-on.

Startled, I pulled back. He looked at me with woeful, puppy-dog eyes, and damned if I didn’t let him lean in and kiss me again. On the lips.

Both of us stepped apart, and he opened his office door. There was nothing to say. I walked out, maneuvered through the tellers, and picked up Madonna’s leash. At the door, I glanced over my shoulder. Charlie stood watching me, speculation in his vibrant blue eyes.

Damn.

Talk about confusing. I berated myself over and over again as I marched home with the dog. I knew better than to let Charlie get the upper hand. He’d not taken any liberties; no, I’d allowed the kiss to happen. Twice.

Double damn.

For a minute there, I’d flashed back to my old comfortable life with my ex-husband. He’d been everything I wanted. We’d had so many good times together, they all ran together like a highlight reel in my head. Times where I’d known he’d be there for me, times when I’d carried him.

Neither of us had appreciated how fragile that trust was. It had seemed as boundless as our love. Then Charlie had chased after vitality and youth. He’d been so enamored of another woman’s attention, he’d broken trust with me. Once I learned of his betrayal, I’d walked away, and the heartache nearly killed me.

Now Charlie wanted me back. He admitted he’d made a terrible mistake. A year ago, I might have leaped at the olive branch he offered. It floored me to know that I had any charitable feelings for him. Charlie and me. Was it possible?

What did I want?

I thought I wanted to build a life with Rafe, but he’d hidden so much from me. He’d kept his family from me. He’d kept his past a closely guarded secret. When I’d asked him pointed questions about his childhood, he’d deflected the conversation. How could I build a future with a man who wouldn’t share his life or his thoughts with me?