“Told you so. And another thing. Mama just let it slip that her car wasn’t locked while she was at Bud’s. And her keys were in the ignition.”
The line seemed to go dead. “You still there, Britt?” I asked. Jonette leaned close to listen in.
“I’m here.” He swore under his breath. “Why didn’t she mention that before?”
“Because she didn’t want me to give her hell for leaving her keys in the car.”
“She’s not making my job any easier.”
“Of course not. She’s still spitting mad at you for arresting her. Charging her with murder didn’t help, either.”
Britt groaned. “God save me from opinionated women.”
I let that slight slide. He was helping me clear Mama’s name. “Where does that leave us with Eleanor?”
“It leaves me checking her out more thoroughly. If something comes of this, I’ll let you know.”
I hung up. “Britt’s definitely looking at Eleanor for the murder. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.”
“The hell with that,” Mama said. “Bud and I have been wanting to get away for the weekend. I’m going to tell him that we can go.”
My stomach burned. If Mama jumped bail, we could lose our house. “You will not leave town. Not unless the charges against you are dropped. If you so much as think about it, I’ll clip your wings so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
Mama scrunched up her brow. “See why I didn’t tell you about the keys? You’re no fun at all. Everything has to be done your way. Who made you queen of the world? You don’t know anything. The best time to take a trip is right before you’re stuck in jail forever.”
“You won’t be stuck in jail forever. Britt will find the real killer.”
“Hmmph.” Mama stormed off to pour herself a fresh cup of coffee.
Jonette folded the newspaper section and handed it to me. “Here. You guys keep this.”
I tucked the paper in my purse. “Thanks, Jonette. How’s it going with Dean away on his trip?”
Jonette made a face. “I miss the old fart. Who knew that he did so much around here? All he ever seemed to do was get in my way. Now that he’s not around, I hardly have time to think, I’m so busy.”
I leaned close to Jonette and whispered, “What about the other?”
“What other?”
“You know. The other part of missing Dean. The personal part.”
Jonette sighed with great feeling. “Yeah. That part sucks, too.”
“When’s he coming home?”
“Tomorrow.” Jonette shoved her fisted hands in her apron pockets.
“You’ll be happy then.”
“Yeah, but he’ll have won.”
I chugged the rest of my lukewarm coffee as America started singing about sister golden hair surprise. “You’re wrong. You both won. Caring about someone who cares right back is never wrong.”
Jonette arched a well plucked eyebrow. “You’re not going to lecture me about love, are you?”
“Hell, no. Not when I know so little about it. All I’m saying is give it a chance. Dean’s a good guy.”
* * * * *
Twelve hours later, I was ready to retract my kind words about Dean. Because of his inconsiderate behavior, I was on the Bay Bridge at three in the morning. Not my idea of how I wanted to spend my night.
“Tell me again why we’re going after Dean?” I asked Jonette.
From the muted fluorescent glow of the Volvo’s dash instrumentation, I barely made out the smile on Jonette’s face. “Because he called me and asked me to come bail him out of jail.”
“What about his car?” I asked. “Didn’t he drive it to Ocean City?”
“No. He rode with a friend. Dean’s car is in the body shop getting painted, or I wouldn’t have bothered you tonight.”
I heard an odd sound. It took me a minute to place the noise. From the direction, it had to be coming from Jonette. Humming? She never hummed.
“Why are you so happy about this?” I asked. “It’s the middle of the night, and you’ve been on your feet for over twelve hours. Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Not tired,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because Dean’s not dull.”
“Dull?” I’d had two hours of sleep before Jonette called me for this road trip. Not enough sleep to come up with a snappy retort.
“Like an old slipper. He’s not dull. He did this for me.”
“You weren’t even in Ocean City. How could he have done this for you?”
“To prove he wasn’t dull. When his friend suggested running naked down a busy Ocean City street, Dean jumped at the opportunity to streak.”
I blinked away the mental image of a naked Dean jumping around. “How many men did this?”
“Two of them. The rest of their group was apparently pretty dull. But not Dean.”
I’d take dull any day, especially if it got me a good night’s sleep. My cell phone rang. “The dog is in labor,” Mama said. “What should I do?”
“Just a minute, Mama.” I turned to Jonette. “Madonna is having her puppies right now. What should Mama do?”
Jonette snatched the phone out of my hand and fired off a bunch of questions at Mama. I reeled from the rapid pace of the conversation. This was too much for Mama to handle alone. She needed help, and not just help from Lexy and Charla.
I had two choices when it came to help. Rafe or Charlie. My gut instinct said to call Rafe. I didn’t know what he knew about birthing puppies, but I sensed he had a cool head in a crisis. I snatched the phone back from Jonette. “Wake up the girls, Mama. They’ll know what to do. As soon as we hang up, I’ll call Rafe and ask him to come over to help you.”
“Suit yourself,” Mama said.
I phoned Rafe. No answer. I dialed again. This time he picked up. I explained the situation.
He yawned into the phone. “You want me to do what?”
“I want you to help Mama and the girls with the dog.”
“Where are you?”
From his sharp tone, I gathered he expected me to be home in the middle of the night. “I’m about an hour from Ocean City. At the very earliest, it will be four hours before I can get back.”
“How am I going to help?”
“I need you to be the voice of reason. Lexy knows what to do, but she’s only thirteen. That’s too much responsibility for her. Mama doesn’t count as an adult. She might dye one of the puppies blue.”
“You convinced me.” Rafe yawned again. “I’m on my way.”
I hung up.
“Dang,” Jonette said. “All that planning and I’m gonna miss the big event. Dean better appreciate the sacrifice I’m making for him.”
We sped through the dark night.
At the police station, Dean was sloppy drunk and a little sheepish after he put on the jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers Jonette had brought. “Sorry to be a bother, but at least I’m not dull,” he said. Jonette and I had our hands full keeping him upright the rest of the way to the car.
“You’re not dull, Dean. I never thought you were.” Jonette patted his butt.
The three of us leaned against the Gray Beast as I fumbled to unlock the door. I could see Mama’s point about not wanting to waste time looking for her keys in her purse when it was dark outside. At last, I found the keys and gained entry.
“You aren’t leaving me?” Dean asked, suddenly standing straight and tall.
“Not a chance.” Jonette slid into the back seat with Dean. “It takes a lot of nerve to run naked in public at forty-eight. I admire that about you.”
He scrunched up one eye. “You do?”
“I do. And if you ever do it again, I’ll kill you.”
“I love you, Jonette.”
“I love you back, wild man.”
We headed home, missing the morning rush-hour traffic around Baltimore by skirting through back roads. My phone didn’t ring again, and I trusted Rafe was taking care of everything
. Dean and Jonette slept while I drove.
I parked in the driveway and ran into the house, Jonette hard on my heels. “Hello?” I called anxiously. “Where is everyone?”
“Up here, Mom,” Lexy’s excited voice sailed over the balcony.
I dashed into my bedroom, fearing the worst. Lexy sat in the whelping box with Madonna. Nearby, Charla and Mama held puppies in their laps. From the grim set of Rafe’s face, I owed him big for this favor.
“How’d you get her to use the wading pool?” I asked.
“Mr. Golden put Madonna there, and she didn’t argue,” Charla said. “Isn’t this the cutest puppy you ever did see?”
The puppies were adorable. “Sure is.” I turned to Rafe. “You all right?”
“Doing good. I believe this is the last one.”
An hour later, it was finally over. Jonette took Madonna out to relieve herself. I moved the whelping pool down into the kitchen, and the girls kept the puppies warm until Madonna returned.
I went back upstairs to my bedroom to find Rafe sound asleep in my bed. With all that he’d done for me, he deserved an undisturbed rest. So did I, for that matter. I yawned big, locked the door, and joined him.
Chapter 15
I decided to knock off work at four o’clock Friday afternoon. My client calls had been returned, two more homeowner association audits had been completed, and the billing was caught up. Not bad for a half day’s effort.
I had been walking on air all afternoon, a big goofy smile on my face. Sleeping with Rafe tended to do that.
“You’re certainly in a good mood today.” Mama leaned a trim hip against the doorjamb. She’d dressed in a cotton-candy pink sheath and jacket, but the colorful outfit didn’t brighten her tired air.
I filed away the materials from the completed audits, smiling inwardly at her observation. “Go ahead. I know you’re dying to say it.”
Mama laughed, her worried expression fading. “You’re right. I told you so. I told you so. Getting laid this morning did you a world of good.”
I blushed. Sex wasn’t a topic I discussed with Mama. “That’s certainly part of it. I feel like a million dollars.”
She drifted closer. “It shows. That Rafe Golden is not so bad.”
He was magnificent. I had trusted him, and he hadn’t let me down. It didn’t get any better than that. “I love him, Mom.”
Mama halted. “You certain?”
“Absolutely.” The knowledge swelled up in me like heated popcorn, pushing at my reservations, seeking release.
“He seems fond of you.”
“I want to be with him all the time, but I have a responsibility to set a good moral example for the girls. Only, neither of the girls said anything about us sleeping together this morning. Do you think they didn’t notice?”
Mama settled in a guest chair, dismissing my question with a flip of her wrist. “Not a chance. Believe me, they know exactly what’s going on between you and Rafe.”
I clasped my hands to my chest, daring to hope. I could have it all, a boyfriend and a family. “Do you think they’re all right with it?”
“Ask them.”
If I couldn’t talk sex with Mama, no way could I discuss it with the girls. “Right.” Time for this conversation to end. I stood.
“Anybody back here?” Britt called from the outer office.
At the sound of his voice, Mama lurched to her feet, the color draining from her face. Heart in my throat, I went to her, cinching my arm around her waist. “Come on in. We’re back here.”
Britt’s strong legs ate up the ground. All too soon he stood next to us, thick forearms bulging from his hunter-green polo, gun and badge visible at his waist. His close-cropped hair, steely eyes, and inscrutable face all painted a picture of a tough cop. “I have news.”
I dared to hope for good news, but his serious demeanor worried me. “Let’s sit down over by the window.” I steered Mama into a chair and sat next to her, holding her trembling hand.
Britt perched on the edge of his seat. “The charges against you have been dropped, Delilah.”
Mama gasped. I clutched my heart. Hope flared, sparkled, and burst across my thoughts. “Eleanor?”
Britt nodded, his features hardening once again. “You were right about her, Cleo. She had us fooled. She was in Hogan’s Glen that night. Ate dinner at her brother’s house, bought gas at the minute market, and made a call on her cell phone to Bud Flook.”
“Perfect Eleanor.” I closed my eyes momentarily as another wave of relief swept through me. How the mighty had fallen. “She was always a little too good to be true if you ask me.”
“The feds are questioning her. They think she colluded with her business partner to defraud their lender. Her partner took four million out of their business account and fled the country. Left her to face the music. She was desperate for money.”
Britt’s gray eyes darkened with concern. “I’m sorry for what you went through, Delilah. I had no choice. Your Olds is the murder weapon.”
Mama finally found her voice. “Will I get my car back?”
“I’ll see to it,” Britt said.
Mama sighed deeply.
Britt’s news tumbled through my mind. Curiosity reared its ugly, whiskered head. “Did Eleanor confess to killing her mother?”
He stiffened. “She hasn’t confessed to anything except hating her mother.”
Hate was a strong word. I shuddered. Her Crandall ancestors must be mortified. “Is she out on bail?”
“When Evan came in to post bail, she spit on him. Told him not to bother. She started yelling at him about what a big disappointment he was to the family, and she wouldn’t calm down until he left. She’s staying in jail until the trial.”
“If they have a Christmas pageant in prison, she’ll already know the part of the Virgin Mary.” It was a mean thing to say, but I felt mean. Perfect Eleanor had nearly framed Mama. Eleanor wasn’t so perfect anymore.
Britt rose, touched his gun and badge in an unconscious motion. “I haven’t seen my family in two days, but I wanted to tell you personally that you were exonerated, Delilah.”
“This is for real? You won’t change your mind?” Mama’s voice cracked with emotion.
“Not a chance,” he said. “The DA says the case against Eleanor is rock solid.”
“Well, hallelujah! It’s about time you came to your senses, young man.” Mama stood up, her face wreathed in smiles. “Excuse me. I’ve got calls to make.”
“She’s got grit,” Britt said as Mama hurried outside, leaving the front door wide open.
Grit was a family trait. I rounded on Britt. “She’s got a heart condition, and you put her through hell.”
Britt raised his hand, his wedding ring tight on his thick fingers. “Don’t start on me, Cleo. I had no choice. My wife has been giving me grief nonstop ever since I arrested Delilah.”
“Good for her,” I said. “Nice to know the whole world didn’t go crazy at once. You tell Melissa I owe her one.”
Britt nodded. At the doorway, he looked over his shoulder. “Thanks for your help, Cleo.”
I hadn’t expected him to say anything. His humility touched my heart. “You’re welcome.” I sat for a minute in my office, enjoying the peace and quiet. Satisfaction purred through me. I couldn’t re member when I’d felt this wonderful.
Mama was off the hook for Erica’s murder. Our home was secure. Madonna’s puppies were healthy. And I’d slept with my boyfriend at my house. Not bad for a day’s work. Not bad at all.
* * * * *
Saturday morning dawned with clear skies. Dew glistened on the grass surrounding the practice tee at the golf club. I made a pendulum stroke with my putter. The ball rolled directly across the smooth putting surface and clinked into the cup. I grinned at my hot teacher.
Rafe smiled back, his eyes warm and knowing. “You’ve got the basics down, Red. Practice will increase your consistency.”
We’d practiced a lot of things last n
ight. We’d been so absorbed in each other that we’d forgotten to eat. I hadn’t minded the lack of food one bit. However, certain muscles were letting their presence be known today. A long soak in a hot tub sounded like just the thing to round out my Saturday morning.
“Easy for you to say.” I hooked the head of my Ping putter over my shoulder. “You practically live at the golf course. When I get the time to come here, my mind is on playing, not on practicing.”
Two golfers smacked balls on the range behind us, and another woman putted on the far side of the putting green.
Rafe’s sandy eyebrows waggled. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Don’t even say that word.” I shivered. “Perfect Eleanor almost ruined my family.”
Rafe moved closer. His husky voice resonated deep within my bones. “But you didn’t let her. You kept digging until you found the answer.”
“Does this mean you approve of my nosing around?”
His expression sobered. “It means I’m relieved you gave Britt the information and let him handle the dirty work.”
Not a ringing endorsement, but I’d take it. “Doesn’t it seem odd that the killer turned out to be a woman? What does that say about Hogan’s Glen?”
Rafe extracted another golf ball from his front pocket and rolled it toward my feet. “It says know your woman or you could wind up dead.”
I gave up the pretext of putting. Conscious of the others nearby, I lowered my voice. “Am I your woman, Rafe?”
“Most definitely.”
I snorted delicately. “That sounds like a caveman attitude.”
He held my gaze, heating my blood. “When it comes to women, men think like cavemen. Don’t let any guy tell you different.”
An older gentleman joined us on the putting green. Rafe acknowledged the man with a smile and a nod. “My ten o’clock lesson is here, Red. Are you going to stay and practice?”
“Heck, no,” I said. “I’m starved, and I’m looking forward to soaking in the tub.”
To my surprise, Rafe blushed. He turned to his other student. “Go ahead and hit a few balls on the range, Nelson. I’ll be right there.”
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