3 Dime If I Know (9 page)

Jonette glowed in a crisp white blouse and pressed navy slacks, conservative clothes by her liberal standards, but she carried the polished look off to perfection. Her jaunty brown bob was styled away from her face, and she’d ramped back the mascara about fifty percent. All in all, she looked like a credible public servant.

Which pleasantly surprised me.

Jonette had entered the race because Darnell had made her mad one time too many. Judging from the size of this crowd and the donations I’d collected this evening, she had a good shot at winning the office. Darnell must be sweating in his mayoral boots.

“What’s our bottom line?” Jonette asked an hour into the event.

I patted the wooden donation box. “We’ve done quite well so far. Enough to purchase that radio spot you wanted and more.”

“Cool.” Jonette surveyed the crowd. “I don’t even know some of these people. Isn’t this amazing?”

“Let’s hope they turn out on election day. You need these votes and more to become mayor.”

Jonette nodded, her gaze sweeping the room once more. She tugged my sleeve. “Looky there. Another miracle.”

I followed her gaze to the lanky man with strawberry blond hair filling the doorway. Rafe. He’d come after all. My spirits brightened. I held still, almost afraid to breathe as he scanned the crowded room. When his gaze landed on me, his expression softened, and he started toward me.

“I didn’t think he’d come,” I whispered to Jonette. My hand strayed to my hair, smoothing it back from my brow. I tugged my blouse down, sucked in my tummy.

“He’s here, and he’s loaded.” Jonette leaned close. “Make sure you squeeze a campaign contribution out of him before you hit the sheets.” With that, she sauntered toward Esther Wilcox and greeted her like it was old home week.

My thoughts turned to the determined man headed my way. Rafe seemed happy to see me. I sipped chardonnay and wished I’d worn my new lingerie.

Rafe’s red golf shirt reminded me of a famous golfer who wore red shirts on the last day of the tournament, the day he expected to win. Had Rafe’s wardrobe choice been deliberate? Was he here to officially patch things up between us? The possibility tantalized me even though I was irritated with him for shutting me out of his life.

He stood before me and reached for my hand. Sparks flew up my arm, igniting the fire smoldering in my belly. Oh, yes, the chemistry between us hadn’t changed. A small sigh of welcome hummed in my throat.

“Hey, you,” he rumbled in his deep voice.

Overcome with emotion, I tugged him close for a kiss. To my delight, he obliged, putting his mind to it. My toes curled as the noisy din of the room receded. “I’ve missed you,” I said.

“I’m doing my best to keep you out of harm’s way, but I couldn’t stay away tonight.”

“I’m glad you came. It means a lot to me. And Jonette. She wants your money, of course.”

“Of course.” He pulled a check from his pocket and stuffed it in the donation box. “Done.”

“Thanks. Jonette’s doing great tonight. I’m proud of her.”

He nodded, but his face clouded.

“What? What is it?” I asked, sensitive to his darkening mood.

He exhaled slowly, as if he didn’t want to say anything, which only made my trepidation worse. Terrible thoughts raced through my head. Had something happened to my girls? Was it his family? Did it pertain to Starr’s murder? What was it?

“Please tell me,” I said. “I’m going nuts imagining things.”

He studied my face. “Starr’s sister called me this afternoon. Said you were at the funeral today. You and a cop.”

I hastened to explain. “I didn’t go with Britt. We went separately and happened to sit together.”

“I don’t want you connected to Starr.”

“I want to clear your name,” I countered. “I want to know about your relationship with her.”

“Starr is poison.”

I set my wineglass down. “She’s dead, and Britt thinks you shot her. Unless another suspect comes to his attention, you’re all he’s got.”

“Good thing my girlfriend got me a lawyer.” He edged closer, his lips nuzzling my neck as he spoke. “I don’t want to argue about this. I’ve missed being with you. Can’t we focus on us tonight? Come home with me. I need your strength and your loving.”

I needed the physical release of lovemaking as much as the next person. More, maybe, because I was worried about Rafe going to jail.

Sex would be nice.

Sex wouldn’t solve anything.

I hovered in that breathless void of uncertainty. Wanting everything to be open and honest between us. It aggravated me that I was torn between my physical desire and my need to know the truth. Was sex with a murder suspect right or wrong?

While my thoughts warred, a fracas started at the door. I glanced over to see Jonette’s boyfriend, Dean, jostling with a white-haired man. “Damn. What’s he doing here?”

“Who?” my boyfriend asked, craning his neck around to see.

“Darnell’s here.”

Rafe’s arm cinched around my waist, and he turned to study the disaster in the making. “That can’t be good.”

Darnell faked right and lunged left, a move no doubt left over from his glory days on the high school football field. In any event, he outfoxed Dean and climbed up on a table. He raised his hands and shouted, “People! People!”

He clapped his hands loudly when it wasn’t quiet enough to suit him. “Listen to me. Don’t give a dime of your money to this pretender. You know what side of town she’s from. There’s nothing she can do for you that I can’t.”

I hid my face, embarrassed for the mayor. He’d been my client for years, and I knew when he got spun up about something, he couldn’t back down. By taking him on, Jonette had threatened his power base. I prayed he hadn’t stopped taking his meds.

A low rumble of masculine frustration filled the crowded room, sending waves of dread through me. Uh-oh. Roger Dalton. Jonette’s third ex-husband. “Got that wrong, boy-o,” Roger drawled in a dangerous voice. “There’s nothing about you I want. But, Johnsy, she’s one hot chick.”

The entire room burst into laughter. Dean stepped between Jonette and the incumbent mayor, hands fisted at his side. “Get out of here, Darnell.”

“Exactly my point,” the mayor went on as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “Hot chicks aren’t mayors. Half the men in this room have sampled her wares. She’s not mayor material. Never was. Never will be.”

That was a low blow, even for a worm like Darnell. I wanted to squash him like a bug, but Rafe held me tight. “Let me go,” I muttered in his ear. “I need to kill Darnell.”

“Wait,” Rafe said. “Let it play out. I know a thing or two about political situations.”

“You miserable worm.” Red of face, Jonette edged around Dean and grabbed Darnell’s leg. “Get off the table, and get the hell out of here.”

Darnell shook his leg but Jonette clung like a bulldog. “Don’t be taken in by her pretty face, folks,” the mayor said. “She’ll tell you lies about me. I have a college degree and years of experience at being mayor. I’m a proven leader. She’s nothing but an aging barmaid.”

Dean grabbed hold of Darnell’s other leg. “Asshole. Out of my place, or I’m calling the cops.”

Fake laughter burst out of the mayor’s mouth. “That’ll play well in tomorrow’s paper. ‘Cops called to mayoral fundraiser’ is a killer headline.”

“Think you’ve got it figured out?” Dean snarled, tugging at the suit-clad leg. “The headline will read ‘Drunken mayor disrupts the peace at opponent’s fundraiser.’ ”

“The newspapers will print what I damn well tell them. Let go of me. I’ll have your liquor license pulled and run the two of you bad seeds out of town.”

Roger Dalton stepped forward, cell phone held high. “You may control the newspaper in this town, but you don’t control the Internet. I uploaded your rant to YouTube and tweeted about it. Two dozen people have already seen it. This thing’s going viral.”

Darnell shrieked and lunged for Roger. Dean, Rafe, and a few other men in the crowd escorted the outraged mayor from the building.

I hurried to Jonette and hugged her. Her chin quivered. My eyes watered with sympathy, but I fought the tide of emotion. One of us had to be strong, and it was my turn.

“Some party,” she said. “Where’s the nearest rock? I want to crawl under it and not come out until after the election.”

“Oh, no you don’t. That’s why Darnell came here. To bully you and to embarrass you. Instead, he embarrassed himself.”

“All the things he said about me were true.”

“Your past isn’t news to anyone here. We all have pasts. We’ve all made a mistake or three. Look at how long I was married to Charlie.”

“Hmm. Well. Okay, then. We’ll soldier on.” Jonette searched my face. “You and Rafe patch things up?”

I looked away, knowing I couldn’t lie to her. “Not exactly.”

“Holy mother of God,” Jonette gasped. “Look what walked through my door. Meow. I’ve always had a thing for tall, buff, and gorgeous. A man with smoky eyes like that shouldn’t be allowed to prowl the planet. Let’s check him out.”

My heels dug in. This was a bad idea. “I’ve got a boyfriend, and you do, too.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

She took off like a shot. Worried that this might be train wreck number two of the evening, I trailed after her.

Jonette pinned a Moore for Mayor button on the collar of the grinning man. “Jonette Moore. And you are?”

“Hill Golden, ma’am. Sorry to intrude. I heard my brother was here tonight. But I no longer care, not with two such pretty ladies at my side.”

My brain caught up with the conversation. “You’re Rafe’s brother?” The man was drop-dead handsome. The way he smiled at me made me think I was the love of his life. My heart fluttered.

He shook my hand, caressed it a bit. “Call me Hill, sweet thing. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Rafe’s . . .” My voice trailed off, not sure how I should declare myself to his brother, remembering his sister thought I was a commoner. Sensing the awkward pause, I hurried to finish. “I’m seeing Rafe. Socially.” Heat flamed my cheeks. Everyone knew socially meant having sex.

Hill whistled through his perfect teeth. “Rafe has excellent taste in women. You’re his first redhead, by the way. And now that I’ve met you, I’m thinking red is the way to go. Why don’t the two of us go someplace private and get better acquainted?”

Repelled, I drew back. “Eew No.”

“That attitude is turning me on, Red.”

“Don’t call her that,” Rafe growled as he joined us. “Leave Cleo alone.”

Hill’s expressive eyes lit with understanding. “Cleopatra Jones? I get it now. She’s the one that’s got big sis in such a swivet.”

“Reggie sent you?” Rafe asked.

“She did. Here’s her message, and I quote, ‘Stop this golf foolishness and come home where you belong.’ Message delivered. Now I’m ready to party. I see you’ve got dibs on the redhead. I call the smoking-hot brunette. I always did want to screw a mayor.”

Steam shot out of Jonette’s ears. “I’m not a mayor—not yet anyway—and I’m not screwing anyone.”

Regret filled Hill’s eyes, turned the corners of his mouth down. “Pity.”

“Go home, Hill,” Rafe said.

“Aw, bro. I just got here. What’s the biggie?”

“You’ve got a girlfriend at home.”

“You know about Tiffany and me?”

Rafe barely nodded his head.

“I love her,” Hill said. “We’re getting married, but I’m footloose tonight, and I love a party.”

“Go home,” Rafe repeated.

“Is there trouble here?” Dean asked, looking every bit the aging biker in his black-leather duds and red bandana tied around his head.

Hill’s hands shot up, palms out. “No trouble at all, buddy. I’m admiring the scenery.”

Rafe grabbed Hill by the collar. “Let me show you the door.”

As they threaded through the crowd, Jonette grinned. “Every Friday night should be this fun. This is one helluva ride, isn’t it?”

I felt nauseated after the high drama, but this was Jonette’s party. “Sure.”

Don McLean sang goodbye to his American pie, and I wondered if Rafe and I would end up saying goodbye. My chances of having a future with Rafe kept getting smaller and smaller.

Worse, I’d made no progress in coming up with another suspect for Starr’s murder. No matter how I analyzed the data, I still had a murder suspect for a boyfriend.

Was I leaping to conclusions? Maybe Britt had rounded up a new suspect and Rafe was in the clear. If that was so, I could focus on our communication issues.

The only way to find out what Detective Britt Radcliff knew was to ask.

At noon on Saturday, Britt hurried down the police station stairs onto the sidewalk where I waited. “Is that a milkshake?” He eyed the insulated cup with turquoise and peach midline stripes as if it were the Holy Grail. “Tell me that’s from Honey’s Ice Cream Shop.”

“It is.” I waggled a paper sack under his nose. The smell of fried food perfumed the crisp fall air. “This hamburger and fries are from the burger joint out on the highway.”

Britt’s face fell. “My wife has me on a strict diet.”

“I know good and well that you only pay lip service to Melissa’s good intentions.”

He took another deep breath, licking his lips. “What’s this lunch gonna cost me?”

I shrugged. “Can’t two friends have lunch together?”

“Not if one is male and the other is female.”

Despite his protest, I hoped he would eat with me. I angled toward the concrete picnic table on the wooded side of the parking lot. Heartlessly, I jiggled the bag a little to let more of the french fry smell out. Britt followed as if I were the Pied Piper, and I felt the pleasant buzz of satisfaction. So far, so good.

When I sat down at the table, the chill of the concrete bench seeped through my slacks. “You want these? Help yourself. Neither Rafe nor Melissa will assume the worst if we’re sitting out here in the open in front of God and everybody.”

Two cops pulled in the lot, waving at Britt as they headed into the station. Word of us sitting here would quickly spread through the department. Britt must know that.

I flattened the empty paper bag, dumped the fries on top, and took a fry. “Help yourself. I like ’em best when they’re hot.”