Till Justice Is Served (7 page)

"Can we go now?" Jeff opened the front door.

"Stay directly behind us." Rafe indicated to her as he moved closer to Jeff until their shoulders touched.

Erin grabbed a handful of his and Jeff's shirts and followed a half step back. They ignored the small group of reporters, got in the SUV, and left the jerks standing in the street.

Erin turned in the seat. "A van is following us."

"We expected as much." Jeff maneuvered the SUV into traffic. "Hang on." He then cut down a side street and circled around through an alley. A few more turns and they were back on track without the tail.

"Nice work," Rafe commented, checking out the area. "It has been a long time since I've been through here. I don't recognize any of these businesses."

Jeff pointed at a barbecue restaurant. "There's one coming up on the right that you'll remember."

Rafe spotted the building before they drove past. It had been a regular hangout of the Sheriff's Department. "You bet I do."

His dad and Jeff had remained partners until they'd retired, but their friendship had changed after Rafe's mother's suicide. The fishing trips had ended. So had the poker games. The laughing, joking Max Sirilli had vanished, too. Thinking back on it, Rafe remembered that he'd never been cruel or mean to him or his brothers. He'd simply withdrawn. His body had been there, but the joy of living had died. Even three robust, noisy boys couldn't pull the shell of a man back into the land of the living. Rafe was glad that his dad had eventually started playing cards again, and that Erin had been accepted into the crew.

Rafe couldn't imagine, not in his wildest dreams, how a person could love as deeply as his dad had loved his mom. Nor could he fathom withdrawing from life because someone died. You kept moving, putting one foot in front of the other.

At first, he'd tried to help his dad snap out of the funk, but had failed miserably. Nick and Rafe were the oldest, and a lot of the responsibility had fallen on Rafe. He'd always wonder if he could've done more.

Jeff drove through the police parking lot and pulled up behind Erin's car. He opened the glove compartment and removed a gun.

"If that's for me—" Erin shook her head.

Rafe adjusted his pistol, making sure he'd pulled his shirt over it. "You need to carry one. Until we figure out who's killing these girls, if you go out of the house, Jeff or I will be with you." He held his hand up to stop her from interrupting, because he knew she was about to let loose. "You can legally keep a gun inside your home. Just be sure you let an intruder step over the threshold before you fire."

She moaned. "That means you babysit me. Lotty isn't well, and Jeff doesn't need the burden of taking care of us both."

"Then we're in agreement on this, right?" Jeff asked. "You'll work with Rafe, and you'll keep your doors at home locked."

"I promise. You also taught me not to be stupid." Erin leaned in and kissed the older man on his cheek. "We're going to find Harold."

Rafe stopped behind the small car and imagined his six-foot-two body wedged in the seat.

"My car is roomier than it looks." She hit the remote, unlocking the doors. "And eco-friendly."

He chuckled, not because she'd read his mind, but because he didn't believe this sardine tin had room for him. Somehow, he managed to get inside, but his knees were pressed tight against the dashboard.

"Let's go pick up my truck. The quicker I get out of this oversized skateboard the better." This time Erin laughed. The sound came from deep down, hearty and sincere. He liked that. Maybe they'd reached some sort of level ground. At least they could joke and laugh together.

She backed out of the parking spot and hit the gas. His head pinged off the roof, bringing a new round of laughter from her.

Rafe studied her profile. A feminine jawline, perfectly shaped nose, and that mole over the right corner of her mouth made his heart beat faster. Stunning, that's the word he'd use to describe her. Why hadn't some, five-day, forty-hour-week guy swept her off her feet?

"Is there something you want to ask?"

She'd caught him staring. "Sorry, my mind wandered."

"Okay. Then let's focus on this list you want. The teachers who had Penny and Sara in their classes might be able to add a few names."

"Will they help?"

"Some actually believe I'm innocent." Erin cut a glance at him as if surprised at his question. "They're going to the next school board meeting to speak out and ask that I be allowed to return to work."

"If you'll write down their names, I'll drop by the campus. My time is yours, except in the morning, when I'm meeting with the couple who manages the Helping Hands at Dad's church. They're going to take his clothes and some of the household goods."

"Max would like that."

"I thought so." Rafe thought it odd to hear her use his dad's given name. The affection in her tone put a hitch in his heartbeat.

"May I ask a question?" She glanced at him, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke.

"Sure. You might not like the answer, because I tell the truth."

"Why didn't you come home more often? Your dad always hoped you'd marry and settle down."

Rafe tried to scoot farther away, but the car door stopped him. "No marriage."

"Max said you were married to the federal government. He used to joke that was no way to produce a grandchild."

Rafe didn't have to think about his answer. "I witnessed firsthand how a family can fall apart when one of the parents dies. I'm not going to be guilty of putting someone through that kind of pain."

"Your dad didn't die in the line of duty."

"No, but my mother couldn't handle the pressure. After she died, we kids had to learn how to function with one absentee parent."

"I can see how your past might make you feel that way, but you've skewed it to where you think you might die."

"Chances are good. One of these days, I'll be undercover and run into somebody I helped send to prison. It's one of the hazards of living in their world, but it's what I want to do with my life."

"At least you had two parents who loved you."

The touch of bitterness in her tone piqued his interest. He'd never heard the full story about how she'd wound up being adopted by Jeff and Lotty. All he knew was that she'd been living on the street. Today when she'd mentioned that Jeff had caught her stealing food was the first time Rafe had heard how they met.

She parked in his driveway, stopping without killing the engine and blocking his pickup. "I thought we were here to swap vehicles. There's room for your car next to my truck."

"If you think about it, I don't need to physically see Harold. I'll call him on the way home." She put the car in reverse. "And I'll work on the list from my house."

"You don't want to work from here?"

"Even with the press, I'll be more comfortable at home."

Her mood had taken a sharp dive. Dismissed like an unruly student, Rafe had no choice but to peel himself out of her shoebox of a car, grunting as he straightened his spine. Letting her leave alone didn't feel right, but then neither did standing his ground. Not when she was about to back over his feet. He stepped back, leaned down to eye level, and handed her Jeff's gun.

"Remember your promise to Jeff. Take this and lock the doors."

"I will."

He watched as she drove away. There wasn't a valid reason for her not to go home. Nothing truly indicated she was in danger from anybody other than the media. So why had he wanted her to hang out with him? And why had she rushed away? He'd upset her or hurt her feelings.

C
HAPTER 7

Erin took a cleansing breath as she sped onto the freeway. Rafe's parents had loved him. Even though his mother had hurt the family by taking her life, he'd known what it was like to feel safe and know somebody cared for him. He'd been one of the lucky ones. Her jealousy of his childhood was ridiculous.

She thumbed the call button on her steering wheel and instructed the computer-voiced woman to get Harold's office on the line. Erin explained the incident with the photographer.

"His pictures will probably have a time stamp," the judge said. "That with the police report will document the time. That's more than one eye witness to your whereabouts."

"I didn't file charges."

"But you called the police?"

"Them and Rafe Sirilli."

"They logged their call to your house. The pictures are probably still good, but his statement and one from a federal agent will carry a lot of sway."

"The photographer may not be agreeable to giving me copies."

"Then have Rafe ask him."

After he reiterated his instructions not to speak to the police without him at her side, Harold hung up. Their timing was perfect, because Erin was only a couple of blocks from her house.

One white media van was parked out front. The local station just wasn't going to give up. She hit the garage remote, hoping she could get inside without a confrontation. A short chubby man came rushing up her driveway. She slid the gun into her purse and got out. He stopped at her back bumper.

"I have no comment." She delivered her words in her chilliest voice.

"Some guy left this on your porch." He held out an envelope, which Erin snatched from his hand.

"Now get off my property."

"It's not from me. It's windy out here today. I figured if I made sure it was safe, you'd appreciate it."

"I said leave." She pulled out her cell. If he didn't do as she asked, she'd call the cops.

The reporter shrugged, backing out of her garage. A question sprang to her mind. "What did this man look like?"

"You don't talk to me, I don't help you."

Erin hurried inside, bolting the door behind her. Her hand trembled when she dropped the envelope on the breakfast counter.

The message light on her home phone blinked frantically, indicating more than one missed call. Dreading the crank calls, she tapped the button, but kept her finger poised to hit delete.

Detective Beckett's baritone voice rumbled through the line, asking that she phone him. Harold's instructions had been clear. She deleted two requests from Beckett and two more from reporters. She called Harold again, leaving a message with his assistant about the latest envelope. Disregarding instructions, she called the detective.

The next number she dialed was 666. Rafe sounded winded. He'd been cleaning out and packing up his dad's garage but would shower and come straight over. Again, he didn't question her. His response meant a lot.

His earlier comment about how death could damage a family troubled her thoughts. Losing his mother must have devastated the family. The pain had apparently destroyed his dad. Rafe had grown up without a woman's guiding touch. In Erin's case, having a stepfather had been the worst thing that happened to her.

She fished out writing material from the kitchen drawer and piled up on the couch to wait for Rafe. Her gaze kept wandering back to the breakfast bar, but she blocked the envelope from her mind.

She hadn't spoken to Jeff or Lotty. No doubt, they were worried, so Erin put everything aside and called them. Jeff answered, putting her on the speaker so she could speak with him and Lotty at the same time. Lotty's progression had been phenomenal, and she was full of questions. Erin did her best to relive any stress she'd caused and closed with a promise to keep them informed.

Erin grabbed the pen and pad, jotting down the names of the kids Penny and Sara had hung out with at school. Erin couldn't remember the names of all the girls' teachers, but knew who would. The school nurse and her best friend, Carla Nye, had a memory like a seasoned game-show winner.

"It's good to hear your voice," Carla said on a sigh. "Just tell me you're okay."

"Thank you for not being mad at me," Erin said, feeling guilty for keeping her friend out of the loop.

"Not mad. Worried. Bring me up to speed."

"So much has happened. After Jeff enlisted help from Harold Penza and Rafe Sirilli, I've had someone with me at all times, except when I was in bed."

"Back up to the Rafe Sirilli part. Isn't he the football player whose picture still hangs in the display case at school? All-America twice, drop-dead handsome as a teenager."

"Arrogant, distant, and now a federal agent? Yeah, that's him."

"Well, tell me. Does he still look good enough to eat, or is he fat with a belly that hangs over his belt?"

Erin laughed. God, it felt good to be frivolous. "You won't believe me."

"You're breaking my heart. He's not only fat, he's bald." The sadness in Carla's voice gave Erin another laugh.

"Okay. I'll tell the truth. He's better-looking now that he's matured. He's definitely grown into that long lanky body."

"Do I hear a hint of interest in your voice?"

"I'm only attracted to his badge. Having an FBI agent willing to help prove I'm innocent makes me feel safer." Carla had moved to town a few years back and knew nothing of Erin and Rafe's history. She had no reason to tell her now.

"Hmm. This good-looking FBI agent just happened to volunteer his services. What are you not telling me?"

"Calm down. Rafe's dad and Jeff were partners. He asked Rafe to help me."

"Shoot. That doesn't sound sexy or romantic." Carla's disappointment flowed through the phone.

"I'm glad I called. You always put me in a good mood," Erin said truthfully. "But I'd better finish this list."

"I'll let you know how it goes at the board meeting. Eight teachers have committed to joining me to protest your suspension."

"Don't get yourself in trouble fighting for a cause you can't win."

Carla's show of solidarity was welcome and gave Erin's attitude a boost. She disconnected and went back to the list. After she finished, she walked to the breakfast bar and stared at the manila monster resting peacefully, daring her to open it. Taunting her.

A knock on the door startled her.

"Erin," Rafe yelled. "Open up."

She fumbled with the lock, opened the door, and pulled him inside.