by Mari Manning
Dinah’s heart thumped wildly. Oh, God. Her worst nightmare. Why did she let Rafe talk her into this? She turned and fled.
“Wait! Dinah, wait!” Rafe’s footsteps were close behind her. She sped up, but it was hard to run in cowboy boots. As she reached the Jeep, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
Anger burbled up inside her. This was his fault. He’d put her in this embarrassing situation. She yanked her arm from him and pushed at his chest with her hands. He didn’t budge. Capturing her fingers in his big hands, he held them tight.
“You should have known, Rafe.”
“Known what?”
“I’m the town pariah.”
“Why, Dinah? What did you do that was so bad?” He sounded angry. Beneath the wide brim of his Stetson, his dark eyes were hard and glittering.
“My daddy was a cop who went to the other side. He stole a quarter-million dollars. He went to prison.”
His hands squeezed hers. “Precisely what does that have to do with you?”
A good point, but it wasn’t the only Pittman sin. “I got naked in front of my entire graduating class.”
“I heard.”
“Everyone in El Royo thinks I’m a whore.”
“Half the actresses in Hollywood have taken their clothes off. Do you think if, uh, Nicole Kidman showed up at the barbecue they’d call her a hooker and run her off?”
Her anger drained away. “It’s doubtful.”
“Damn right it’s doubtful.”
He let her fingers go and slid his hands over her shoulders. “I don’t know about you,” he said softly, “but I got all cleaned up and got myself a hot date—”
“Beard.”
“Got myself a hot beard, and I’m fixing to get me a cold beer and a mess of barbecue before I leave. I propose we go right on into the party, and if someone’s got a problem with that, they can kiss my ass.” He winked. “No one’s allowed to kiss yours, unless you change your mind about cops. Then I might go for it.”
A smile forced its way to her lips. “You’ll stay with me?”
“Like white on rice, Miss Dinah.”
She went back to face the town, only this time Rafe’s hand was pressed against the small of her back. Its warmth soaked through her thin shirt, heating her skin. Desire skittered through her.
“Dinah!” A small, bullet-shaped woman pushed through the circles of guests. Other than a few more gray hairs in her chignon, Miss Peppie hadn’t changed a bit. Five feet of energy and warmth, she’d been like a second mother to Dinah. She held out her arms. “Come and give me a hug, nena.”
Rafe’s hand fell away from Dinah’s waist, and she was pulled into Miss Peppie’s embrace.
“I was sorry to hear about your daddy. I kept hoping he’d see the error of his ways and return the money.”
“I think he did repent. But it was too late to return the money.”
Miss Peppie patted Dinah’s arm. “He is in a better place. His suffering is over.” She stepped back and eyed Rafe. “And shame on you for not telling me you were seeing Dinah. I’m working night and day to find you a good wife, and you go behind my back. With three single daughters, why am I wasting my time on an ungrateful—”
Rafe’s face flushed. “That’s enough.” His tone brooked no disobedience, even from his mother.
But Miss Peppie was not a woman to back down. She wagged a chubby finger at Rafe. “Is that the way a respectful son talks to his mother?”
Dr. Ernesto stepped in to rescue his son. He had Rafe’s warm eyes and athletic body and was the cool to his wife’s fire.
“You’re hogging the prettiest girl at the party, Peppie.” He gave Dinah a quick, fatherly hug before turning to his wife. “Ernesta is waiting on you. She’s ready to put out the beans.”
“The beans! I almost forgot.” Miss Peppie fluttered off.
Dr. Ernesto looked from Dinah to Rafe, then back to Dinah. “I am glad to see you are back, nena.”
“Thank you, Dr. Ernesto.” For the kind words and interrupting Miss Peppie.
Dinah flexed her shoulders. A pair of eyes was burning a hole between her shoulder blades. She twisted her head, prepared to stare down a nosy villager. It was Esme, standing by the barn, the reins of an appaloosa in her hands. She wore an old T-shirt and a pair of dusty jeans. When her eyes caught Dinah’s, she turned and disappeared into the barn.
Rafe and Dr. Ernesto and the party were forgotten. She wanted—no, needed—to see Esme. All her unspoken apologies, damned up all these years, were bursting out. “Excuse me.”
Rafe’s hand slid around her arm, holding her back.
“Leave Esme be,” said Dr. Ernesto. “Please.”
Rafe’s warm palm found its familiar resting place at her waist. “You look like you could use a cold beer, Miss Dinah. Let’s go find that cooler.”
Dinah grimaced. They were right. Esme wouldn’t want anything to do with her. Not after everything she’d said and done. She followed Rafe to the cooler, but some of the pleasure went out of her day.
On the ride home, Rafe was in the mood to talk. “So what do you have against cops?”
Dinah closed her eyes. “I don’t want to discuss it. Besides, this isn’t a real date.”
“Just wondering. On behalf of all my law enforcement brothers, of course. Come on, tell me.”
A bolt of irritation slid through her, puncturing the little bubble of satisfaction she’d gotten from facing up to all those opinionated El Royans. She snapped out her well-worn line on the topic. “My daddy was a hypocrite. Going around town, pretending to be better than other folks. But he wasn’t, was he?”
“So when he fell off his pedestal, every cop, past and present, fell off his—or her—pedestal as well.”
“You don’t understand. I didn’t worship him. I just expected better of a cop. But they’re like everyone else—only more full of shit.”
She could feel his anger even before he spoke. “You know what? You’re as bad as all those folks who turned their backs on you tonight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?
“It means, Miss Dinah, you are just as judgmental as they are. Maybe more since you know how much it hurts.”
She hadn’t considered how Rafe might feel. He’d stuck up for her tonight despite the town’s disapproval, and so far, he was just about the only friend she had in El Royo except for Jamey and Hollyn. “I’m sorry. You’ve been a true friend, and here I am dumping all over you for something my daddy did.”
“Whatever.” He didn’t sound like he had accepted her apology.
She tried to unruffled his feathers. “So tell me why you decided to become a cop.”
“Why? So you have more ammunition to fling at me the next time you get on your high horse?”
“I’m interested. Honest.”
“Seems like you were being more honest before.”
Yesterday, that would have been true. Maybe it was the letter from the prison. At the end of his life, her daddy had thought about her, loved her, owned up to his crime, and accepted his punishment. He’d freed himself from the painful past long ago while she’d carted around her anger and resentment against Daddy and Momma for so long, some days it felt like a third arm. But the letter had loosened those feelings.
“My daddy was responsible for what he did, and he paid for it.” Was she really saying this? She was, and she meant it. “I guess it’s just been easier for me to blame cops in general than to accept my own daddy was a criminal.”
“I know things haven’t been easy for you. I shouldn’t have gone off on you.”
Dinah squirmed. His sympathy was harder to take than his anger. “I was serious. Why did you decide on the force?”
He glanced over at her, his dark eyes wary, and she met them, raising her brows at him. He shrugged.
“Nothing to it, really. I couldn’t make it in the NFL after college—my damn knee gave out three games into the season—so I took the police exam and passed. The rest, as t
hey say, is history.”
“Did you study criminal justice in college? Or were you a social studies major like the other jocks?”
He frowned. “Not every guy who plays college football is a caveman.”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to understand. What did you major in?”
“Biology.”
A faded memory nagged at the back of her mind. Esme’s voice, saying, Miss Peppie’s been crying for two days, and Papa won’t talk to anyone. My brother told them he doesn’t want to be a vet. I think he broke Papa’s heart.
“You were supposed to go to A&M, to veterinary school, weren’t you? Dr. Ernesto helped you get in. Esme told me.”
A rueful smile curled his lips. “I hated biology and the pre-vet stuff. Being an NFL running back was a great excuse to avoid veterinary school. I thought my family would be proud. Then I got injured.”
“Being a cop was a fall back?”
“At first. I mean I’d never thought about it seriously. But I wanted to do something good like my pop, and what’s better than getting the bad guys off the street. I have no regrets.”
“Except your hand shakes every time you touch your gun.”
A wall went up. “You’re swimming in dangerous waters, Miss Dinah.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.” Change the subject! “So did Dr. Ernesto find a vet to take over his practice when he retires?”
“Esme went to A&M instead of me.” He turned away from her. “Here we are. Almost home.” Rafe cruised up to the bungalow and parked.
Dinah grabbed the door handle. “Good night.”
“Wait.” His eyes gleamed in the dark. Her belly tightened. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Really, Rafe. It’s not even a hundred feet. I can manage.” There was no way he was getting into the house.
“You’re as skittish as a girl on her first date, Miss Dinah.” He drawled the words at her, and his dimples appeared like punctuation marks for his generous mouth.
She tore her eyes away from his face. “I meant it’s not necessary, that’s all.”
He adjusted his hat. “Just escorting a lady home like I was taught.”
“Suit yourself.” She jumped out before he could come around and open her door.
He waited at the curb and fell into step beside her. “Thank you for rescuing me from Peppie’s matchmaking schemes.”
“Thanks for asking me. Seeing Dr. Ernesto and Miss Peppie again was a true pleasure. As for the rest…” She shrugged. “It’s about what I ex—” A ghostly object by the front door glimmered. “There’s something on the porch.”
“Were you expecting a package?”
“No.”
Rafe took the steps two at a time and bent to examine the object. “What’s wrong with people?” He muttered the question under his breath.
Dinah clambered up the steps after him. As soon as she saw the Old English type she knew what it was. The Sunday edition of the Austin American Statesman. Beneath a small red, white, and blue banner—Happy Fourth! Parade Information on Page 3—tomorrow’s headline blared at her in thick black letters: “What Happened to the $250,000?” Underneath it was her father’s mug shot and a grainy photo of Dinah gazing into the black waters of the quarry.
Chapter Nine
It was Wednesday, and the stream of rubberneckers cruising past the bungalow had slowed to a drip. What did they think they were going to see anyway? A giant safe on the front lawn? A mountain of gold? A palace rising among the humble homes in her blue-collar neighborhood? She’d spent most of her time in her bedroom, studying her father’s letter, when another uninvited guest knocked.
“Go away.”
More knocking. “It’s the police, ma’am.”
The words drifted through her bedroom window in a voice that was definitely not Rafe’s. Still, it could be a ruse to get her out of the house. She shouted down the stairs. “Hollyn? Can you get that, please?”
Hollyn crept into the hallway. “It’s the police. I saw a squad car outside.”
“Well, go on then. Open the door.”
Hollyn shook her head. “Can you?” She smoothed down the thick football jersey she insisted on wearing. “I’m not dressed for visitors.”
That was a load of cow pies. Hollyn had been all over town in the jersey. Dinah had offered her some of Daddy’s old cotton shirts, but she clung tight to the thick jersey. As far as Dinah could tell, Hollyn even wore it to bed. She wondered when it got washed. But everyone had their little neuroses, and in Hollyn’s case, it was the cops…and maybe that dang jersey.
“Call through the door. Tell him I’ll be with him in a minute.”
Dinah ducked back into her room, stuck the letter into Itsy Bitsy’s neck, and twisted the head on. She inspected herself in the mirror. T-shirt and cut-offs. Not much better than Hollyn’s outfit. But she wasn’t afraid of a small-town cop.
The officer was lanky and too pale for the Texas sun. He tipped his hat and shot her a thick-lipped smile. “Can I come in and talk to you for a few minutes, ma’am?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and she took a powerful dislike to him right off. “Do you have a warrant”—She glanced at his badge and nametag—“Officer Swope?”
His smile faded. If she could have seen past his mirrored sunglasses, she suspected his eyes would be hard. Something was off about this dude.
He cleared his throat. “This is a courtesy call, ma’am. I noticed all the activity in the neighborhood, and Morales, uh, Officer Morales mentioned you were alone here so I came by to see if you were all right.”
Rafe’s name softened her mood, and she tried to make up for her rude behavior. “My sincere apologies, Officer Swope. I didn’t mean to be so sharp with you.” Begrudgingly, she threw down the welcome mat. “If you’d like to come in for a moment, we can talk inside.”
“Thank you.” He removed his Stetson and stepped into the foyer.
“Shall we sit down?” She led him into the living room. He sat on the sofa. She chose a chair. “What’s on your mind, Officer?”
“Please call me Derek.”
No way. “I’m a little busy so if you could, uh, tell me what you want from me, I’d surely appreciate it.”
He smiled and a note of insinuation threaded his voice. “As I said, this is more of a personal call.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I wondered if you’d like to step out with me tonight. Maybe we could grab something to eat, then go back to my place, have a few beers, see what happens.”
Dinah had been waiting for some randy dude to try this since she hit town. Every guy in El Royo thought she was fair game. But she hadn’t expected a cop to show up at her door and try to get laid. A cop who worked with Rafe, who she’d thought was a friend.
She stood. “Get out of here before I report you to whoever the hell is running the station now.”
His lower lip pushed out into an ugly pout as he rose. His eyes hardened. “You’re hooking up with the wrong guy, darlin’. Officer Morales has a yellow stripe down his back a mile wide. Ask him about it the next time you screw him.”
She was free falling into a nightmare. For the first time since her father’s conviction, she’d actually trusted a cop. She’d considered Rafe a friend, and he was going around town bragging he’d gotten some off her. Her eyes raked Derek’s face. “Get out.”
After the cop left, her fingers itched to text a blistering message to Rafe, that snake. But her cell was dead since she couldn’t pay her bill. Maybe he’d slink off on his own, too ashamed to face her since she hadn’t heard from him since Saturday night.
An hour later, Dinah slid her feet into a comfortable pair of flip-flops and headed into town for groceries. Fortunately it was a beautiful morning for a walk since she was nearly out of gas. She quickened her pace as she passed a two-story brick colonial with fake columns and a manicured lawn. Gerry Sutton’s place. She did not want to run into him again. When she rounded the next corner, her fo
otsteps fell back into an easy gait.
At the corner, the carpet of tended lawns abruptly ended at a yard surrounded by rusted fence barely able to contain the overgrown vegetation pressing against it. Poking up past the shaggy shrubs were the eaves of an unkempt bungalow. Paint peeled from the wood, and a torn screen dangled from a window covered in newspaper. Snippets of faded white house showed through the leggy bushes, and Dinah squinted through the sparse branches of an Indian Hawthorn as she passed. Dirt-phobic, meticulous Lonnie must have moved.
Out of nowhere, the body of a large animal hurled itself against the fence, rattling the links. Dinah jumped back as a greyhound leapt up, balancing its paws on the fence and barked sharply. When it saw Dinah, it began to whine.
She pressed a hand to her chest to still her pounding heart. “You startled me.”
The dog’s ears perked up, and it tilted its head. It seemed to be smiling at her.
“Aren’t you a cutie?”
The dog whined again and shook its tail eagerly. Pet me, pet me.
Dinah was considering the risks of sticking her hand in the vicinity of a strange dog’s teeth, when a man’s voice interrupted her.
“Daisy? Daisy Mae? Where did you get to?”
She’d have recognized that voice anywhere. She heard it every fourth Friday night when she was growing up. Poker player number four, Lonnie Bigsky. The lightness fell out of her day.
“Dang animal. Barks at everything. Day and night. Can’t hardly sleep some nights.”
The bushes rustled again, and Lonnie’s upper body popped up at the fence beside the dog. Lonnie was sure a changed man. The muscular, well-groomed, former armored car driver was thin and slumped over. A greasy ponytail snaked down his back. He reached for the dog, but poked his palm on a rusty link instead. “Dang it all!” He studied his hand before rubbing it against a stained T-shirt. When he finished, he focused on Dinah. His face paled.
“What are you doing here, girl?”
She wasn’t taking crap from an underhanded sneak. “Here? On this public sidewalk?”