“Well, no offense, but I hope your source is wrong, Vicky. I would hate to think something like that could happen here. People around here call this God’s country.” Rafe’s brow wrinkled as he pondered the painful reality that violence might have touched his heavenly hideaway. Shaking his head sadly, he went on, “This has always been such a safe town. My family has a home here, you know. It’s appalling to think someone might be preying on innocent young women here in B-Pass.”
Using the local shorthand for Barringer’s Pass was a nice, homey touch, Maggie had to admit, even if he had protested a bit too much for comfort. Or maybe she was the only one uncomfortable with Rafe talking about the possibility of a serial killer in the area. Vicky was certainly sucked in by his deep concern for the women of Barringer’s Pass.
“I’m sure everyone agrees with that sentiment, Rafe. Can you tell us anything else about Emily, anything she might have said that would indicate what she planned to do the rest of the evening, or who she was with?”
He shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not. We only talked for a couple minutes. But hopefully her girlfriend will be able to help the police figure out where she went.”
Two girls, at least one of whom had talked with Rafe at The Aerie—Maggie felt a chill slide across her shoulders. Had Amber come that close to becoming Rafe’s next victim?
“Our information is that the girlfriend has disappeared and might also be missing, and that the police are trying to learn her identity. I imagine if you gave them a description, it would be very helpful.”
Rafe hesitated as if this might be classified information. “Actually, I gave them her name. I’m not at liberty to tell you why, but I have reason to believe she’s staying in this area.”
Vicky nearly vibrated with excitement at this scoop. “You gave them her name? Rafe, you seem to have been an enormous help to the police in this investigation!”
“I don’t know about that,” he said, his humility lacking only some aw-shucks toe scuffing. “Anyone would have done the same. I just hope it helps them find Emily.”
“I know America agrees with you, Rafe.”
Rafe looked over his shoulder as if someone had called his name, turning back with the mildly preoccupied expression of a person whose time was in great demand. “I’m sorry, I have to go now.”
“We understand, Rafe. Thank you so much for talking with us!” As Rafe turned away, she addressed the camera. “That was Rafe De Luca, one of—or perhaps I should say the star of Trust Fund Brats, talking with us about his possibly pivotal role in the search for the missing Emily Renee Banks.”
Cal tugged on Maggie’s hand, jerking her out of her stunned trance. “We have to find your sister. I need to know for sure.”
She knew what he meant—he needed to see a photo of Emily Banks, needed to know if she was the blonde who’d been standing beside Amber at The Aerie, flirting with Rafe. He needed to know if Rafe had targeted Emily simply because he realized he’d missed his chance to truly hurt them by taking Amber.
She trotted to keep up as Cal strode past the lobby fountain and set a straight course toward the offices behind the reception desk, skirting clusters of guests who talked while keeping an eye on the activity outside.
Maggie felt an ache in her heart in anticipation of what she feared he would learn. He wouldn’t take it well. He already felt responsible for not being there when Julie needed help. If another girl had died simply because of a connection to Cal, it would devastate him. She wanted to reassure him that Emily’s disappearance was not his fault—not their fault—but didn’t know how. In a horrifying way, it might be.
“Maggie! Cal!”
They turned to see Zoe waving at them from the concierge desk, where she appeared to be giving hasty instructions to a young man. They changed course and met her as she came around the desk.
Maggie barely had time to take in her sister’s harried look before Cal demanded, “Do you have a picture of her? The missing girl?”
Zoe nodded. “The police gave out this picture from her driver’s license,” she said, reaching over the concierge desk to grab a sheet of paper. “It’s not a great photo. They’re trying to get something better from her family.”
Cal snatched the paper. Maggie moved closer so she could see, too, studying the girl’s long blond hair and heart-shaped face for something familiar. They’d seen her only from the side, so she had to imagine the face in profile, picture the way the girl’s small nose would turn up at the end and her crooked eyetooth would stand out in an otherwise perfect smile.
Maggie felt suddenly light-headed. Emily Banks was unmistakably the girl who’d been with Amber.
“Son of a bitch,” Cal growled between clenched teeth.
Zoe stared, taking the paper from his unresisting fingers. “What’s wrong?”
“Amber was with that girl at The Aerie the night before last,” Maggie told her, fighting to keep her voice from trembling. “They were both flirting with Rafe. He was furious when he saw Amber leave with us. He might have even figured out she’s Cal’s sister—his lawyers are thorough.”
Zoe looked from Cal’s stiff expression back to Maggie. “You think he might have taken Emily just because he missed his chance to get Amber?”
“And because a girl’s life means nothing to that depraved bastard.” Cal looked at Maggie. “I didn’t want to believe it, but he might have progressed to intentional killing.”
Zoe’s worried gaze fastened on him. “I thought you said he killed on impulse.”
“He does. It’s not that different. Even for serial killers, murder is an impulse they can’t control. They have to do it, and it’s often related to sexual gratification. We know that’s true with Rafe—it probably happens during sex. Maybe the first death was an accident, I don’t know. But if it enhanced the sexual experience for him, he’d re-create it. And once he kills deliberately and likes it, he’d begin choosing his victims.”
Maggie flashed back to the attack on her porch, when the man had simulated cutting her throat. The motion had been intimate, like a caress. He liked the idea, wanted to do it. She shivered.
Zoe didn’t look convinced. “But he knows you suspect him of murder, and he knows killing another girl will attract police attention. He seems too smart and controlled to do that.”
Cal shook his head. “Part of the thrill for serial killers is in fooling the police.” He looked distant, almost as if he were talking to himself. Convincing himself. “They’re arrogant. Huge egos, even though they might have few real talents outside of killing.”
“Rafe’s ego does tend to get in the way,” Maggie said dryly. “His lawyer tries to keep it in check.”
He nodded, then turned to her. “You’ve seen him lose his temper, Maggie, so tell me—are his lawyer’s warnings enough to keep him under control when Jameson isn’t around?”
Recalling her recent meeting with Rafe in the back room of Fortune’s Folly was enough to give her chills. “The last time I saw Rafe he backed me against some crates. I think if Parker Jameson hadn’t been there, he would have gotten physical. There was this wildness in his eyes, like pure hatred. . . .” She swallowed. “No. If Jameson weren’t around, I don’t think Rafe would stop himself.”
“So maybe he’s crossed a line and taken it to another level of killing.”
“He also pulled Amber into it,” she reminded him. “Deliberately.”
New concern wrinkled Zoe’s brow. “What did Rafe say about Amber? Where is she?”
“Rafe just gave an interview outside,” Maggie told her. “He said he knows the name of the girl who’d been with Emily at The Aerie. The police will want to question her.”
“That little prick,” Zoe said. “Is she someplace safe?”
Cal’s face darkened. “Yeah, but Rafe might try to find out where she is, have one of his goons follow the police when they go to question her.”
“She’s with Mom,” Maggie supplied.
“You took her . .
.” Zoe glanced furtively around and lowered her voice. “She’s at the commune?” Maggie nodded and watched Zoe’s surprise turn thoughtful. “That might be good.” She thought some more. “That might be brilliant. It’s nearly impossible for someone to sneak into that compound, what with the dogs and so many people being around.”
“As long as Amber doesn’t find a way to leave.”
“How could she?”
Maggie didn’t know, but as much as she wanted to agree with Zoe, she wouldn’t underestimate Amber—if anyone could find a way out, she would.
Zoe’s gaze snagged on a man across the lobby and she straightened, smoothing back her hair. “That’s my boss. Gotta go. I got him out of bed and he’s not going to be happy about that, but I think he’d rather know about this now than tomorrow morning.” She hurried off.
“What now?” Maggie looked at Cal. “Back to my place?”
For the first time since they’d arrived, his expression softened into a smile. “That sounds nice.” He stroked a hand down her cheek, sending shivers skittering down her back. “But I think we should call Rick before we leave. I want to hear how this media blitzkrieg started.” Interest sparked in his eyes. “Then back to your place.”
That couldn’t happen soon enough.
They met Rick at a secluded seating area near the darkened entrance to the Alpine Sky’s exclusive spa. The dim lighting almost felt romantic, which Maggie thought just proved that she needed more time alone with Cal.
Rick did his best to ruin the mood, recapping the evening with his usual level of excitement when talking about Rafe De Luca. “Filming wrapped early today and Rafe was here since late afternoon. So were most of the cast and crew. I was hanging near the rest of the reporters who tail Rafe—blending in, you know? And I started noticing that some were getting messages on their phones, then cutting out. So I followed to see what was up. That’s when I saw the police cars out front.”
“What time was that?” Cal asked.
“About six? Maybe seven. I didn’t see the cops for a while because they were back in the manager’s office. They kept calling employees back to talk with them, then we’d grab ’em on their way out and ask what was going on. We finally figured out that some girl was missing and this was the last place she’d been seen.”
Cal raised an eyebrow at Maggie. “I think maybe Sergeant Todd was paying attention when I told him about those other girls. They’re already looking at the possibility of a pattern.”
“The paparazzi would leave Rafe for a missing girl?”
“When he was the last one who saw her? You bet. Pretty soon the news stations started rolling in here, and before you know it the cops are questioning the Trust Fund Brats people, including Rafe. I did, too. All the reporters—they talked to anyone who’d been here the night before. And you saw the rest, I guess, because I saw you both outside when Rafe was doing his Good Samaritan bit for the cameras. I stuck with him, but he grabbed one of the girls from the show and went up to his room. I’m thinking he won’t be down again tonight.”
“But what about two nights ago?” Maggie asked. “You were here. Didn’t you see him leave with Emily Banks?”
Even in the subdued lighting, she saw a blush creep up his neck. “I was distracted for a few minutes, and when I looked for him, he was gone. I don’t know if she was, too, because I wasn’t watching her.” He gave Cal a sheepish look. “I’m really sorry. I know that was exactly the moment I’ve been waiting for, and I totally blew it.”
Cal didn’t look nearly as upset as Rick. “What distracted you?”
“An argument. Some girl started screaming that this guy tore her top. Someone sure did, because her boob was practically hanging completely out. It was, you know . . .” He shot Maggie an embarrassed grin. “Big. The guy was denying the whole thing. Got pretty noisy and aggressive about it, too. And the girl was so pissed she was gesturing all over and just barely hanging on to her ripped top, and, well, it kinda drew everyone’s attention.”
Cal nodded. “Who was the guy?”
“How should I know?”
“One of Rafe’s bodyguards?”
Rick paused, brow furrowed. “I don’t know. Yeah, maybe.”
“How about the girl?”
“I heard she worked with the show’s catering company.” Realization finally hit. “You think that was a setup? A distraction so Rafe could slip out with some girl?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Damn. That was a good one.”
It was good, which Maggie found very disturbing. Rafe was always a step ahead of them, experienced both at drawing media attention as he had tonight, and avoiding it when he slipped off with a girl. The scary part was that a notorious womanizer shouldn’t need to slip away unnoticed . . . unless, as Cal suggested, he was killing no longer on impulse but with deliberate forethought. She didn’t feel better having that theory confirmed.
Rick shook his head, looking disgusted with himself. “Christ, I hate falling for the De Lucas’ tricks. I swear I’m going to get that bastard.” He stood. “But I’m done for tonight. I’ll catch up with you both tomorrow.”
They watched him walk away. Maggie turned to Cal hopefully. “Home?”
He smiled. As he opened his mouth to answer, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the caller ID. When he looked up his smile had been replaced with a look of resignation. “The Barringer’s Pass police. I think they have questions for me that won’t wait until morning.”
She sighed. “We’re going to be up all night, aren’t we?”
Chapter
Thirteen
Cal called the Barringer’s Pass police and told them where to find his sister. He saw Maggie make a brief call at the same time, and when he hung up, he asked, “Who’d you call?”
“My mom. Feather doesn’t like to be around if the police stop by. I think there’s an old warrant . . .” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Woops. You didn’t hear that.”
Cal grinned. “It’s probably expired by now.”
“Maybe. But she’ll feel better if we give her time to disappear before they get there.” She stood. “Come on, let’s get going.”
He got slowly to his feet. “Um, Maggie, I know you want to go home . . . ”
She laughed softly. “We’re going to the commune. You need to be there when they question Amber.”
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Thanks.”
A police car was already there when they pulled up, and thankfully, no media vans were with it. Sergeant Kyle Todd sat in the living room, his big body looking out of place on a delicate bentwood rocker. Cal wasn’t surprised to see him; the man had good cop instincts. He had a new ally in his investigation of Rafe De Luca.
The hugs they got were more restrained this time, the faces concerned. Todd had obviously told them about the search for Emily Banks. Cal looked around the room, recognizing the eleven people he’d met on his first visit. Even in the middle of the night, the commune had gathered in support of their guest—everyone except Feather. He smiled.
Cal stood by silently as Amber answered Sergeant Todd’s questions. Yes, she’d met Emily at The Aerie. They’d talked in the bathroom, then gone out to the bar. Yes, they’d both talked to Rafe. No, they hadn’t talked about going anyplace with him—she’d left before that ever came up. Cal got a dirty look. And no, Emily had not mentioned where she intended to go later, or with whom.
He didn’t care that Amber was still resentful about him getting her kicked out of The Aerie. His only concern was with how she would handle Emily’s disappearance and the realization that she might have come close to being the next victim. He wanted to assure her that she was safe at the commune, and that the police wouldn’t let the press know where she was.
He didn’t have to worry. She set him straight about that as soon as Todd left.
“I’m not an idiot, you know.” She sat on the living room couch after everyone else had gone, giving him a look tha
t was both composed and condescending. “And I’m not a child. You don’t have to warn me about strangers offering candy.”
“No, you’re not a child. Neither was Emily—she was twenty-one.”
“Yeah. I hate to tell you, but Emily was a real noob.”
“A what?”
“You know, a newbie? Naive? She probably could have used that stranger-danger info.”
“Amber . . .”
“I know how to take care of myself, Cal. I was doing it for almost seventeen years before I got dumped on you, and I’ll do it again when I go back to L.A.”
He didn’t try to tell her that Julie had felt the same way, because he hadn’t really known Julie. Maybe she hadn’t been as hardened by life as Amber seemed to be. And it was true that once she went back to L.A., she’d be on her own. He studied her determined expression. “So how are you doing here? You haven’t expired from boredom yet.”
She shrugged, looking suddenly more vague. “They keep me too busy to get bored.”
“Milk any goats yet?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t do goats.”
She hadn’t pierced her lip yet, either, and he decided not to mention it. “Make any jewelry?”
She hesitated. “Not yet. I’m still learning the techniques.” He saw a second of self-consciousness before annoyance flashed in her eyes. “This isn’t summer camp, you know. They don’t just thread beads on a string. Jewelry’s an art.”
He bit back a smile. “So I guess you’ll be okay for another three days.”
“I can manage.”
“Okay.” He stood. “I’ll just take Maggie home, then. It’s late, and we’re keeping you all up.”
Amber stood, too, jamming her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Nah, they stay up late here. Header plays a mean guitar, and Ron and Marcy play, too. They do these old rock songs. That’s what we were doing before you got here. It’s kinda, I don’t know, fun.”
“Header?”
“That’s Paul. Header’s his nickname.”
“Oh.”
Silver Sparks Page 21