Silver Sparks

by Starr Ambrose

  His distaste for Rick was mounting by the second.

  “I’ll cut you in. You’ll see, we can both make money off this.” Rick scrambled to his feet with newfound energy, but kept a wary distance from Cal. “When can I interview you?”

  “The first thing we do is take Amber back to the commune, and you can explain to everyone there how you won’t be taking her away again.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” He folded a tripod and tossed it into a small duffel bag, along with a video camera. “Let’s go. The sooner I get this story, the better. Man, I’m gonna nail Rafe’s ass this time.” He paused at the door and motioned to Cal. “Come on, we gotta get back before someone else gets the jump on me.”

  “That would be tragic.” Cal thought the sarcasm was obvious, but he wasn’t sure Rick got it.

  They wouldn’t let Maggie see Rafe.

  “He’s being examined by his doctor,” the security guard said. He swiveled his chair, putting his back to the bank of monitor screens. She noticed various views of the lobby, the spa, and the parking lot glowing brightly under halogen lamps. She couldn’t tell if one of the other screens showed the bar in The Aerie, and sincerely hoped it didn’t.

  “Does he really have a broken jaw?”

  “Doubt it. He’ll probably need a few new caps on his teeth, though.”

  The little office held one other chair and a desk, but it was unoccupied. “Is another guard with him?”

  “Nope.”

  “What if he leaves?”

  “I hope he does. We got no reason to hold him, and if he leaves, the pack of paparazzi will go with him. Makes my night a whole lot easier.”

  Damn. She’d been all psyched about crushing Rafe’s hopes for a giant lawsuit. But telling Parker Jameson might be just as good. Propositioning a minor—that should crack Jameson’s cool exterior. If the press got wind of it, it wouldn’t matter if the minor in question had looked willing. It was the kind of publicity Jameson was paid to cover up.

  “Do you know where his lawyer is?”

  “Haven’t seen him.” The guard cocked his head, looking her over. “Aren’t you Zoe Larkin’s sister?”

  She nodded.

  He leaned back and laced his fingers over his belly. “Heard you put on a pretty good show tonight.”

  The little room suddenly felt claustrophobic. “Someone must have exaggerated.”

  “Hey, I ain’t criticizin’. Fact, I wish I’d been there to see it.” His eyes took another tour of her body, lingering on her breasts. “You planning on doin’ an encore?”

  Never, but that didn’t matter. The newspapers would make sure no one forgot. Photos of her in her bra and fringe skirt would be everywhere, even on the Internet. God, she’d never live this down.

  And Cal . . . Heat bloomed on her cheeks. She knew from the shocked look on his face that he’d never forget, either.

  “Thanks for the information,” she mumbled, and made a quick exit.

  The enormity of what she’d done was starting to sink in. She’d known there were possible repercussions, but hadn’t thought about them at the time. She did what had to be done. She’d dealt with a reputation tarnished by rumors before. But this was more than rumors, and it was far more than local. By tomorrow, Wild Maggie Larkin would be national news.

  And Cal Drummond would never want to see her again.

  Loud laughter made her look toward the lobby. A group of reporters had gathered by the fountain, probably waiting for Rafe to emerge from the administrative offices. She didn’t want to face them. She didn’t feel like being shut up in Zoe’s office, either, answering Amber’s questions. Her only other option was the alarmed exit at the end of the hall, with darkness and cool night air beyond. It sounded perfect.

  Opening Zoe’s office door a crack, she motioned for her sister to step into the hall. “Can you override that alarm for me? I need to get my cargo pants from Cal’s truck, and the lobby’s full of reporters. I can’t go that way.”

  Zoe led the way down the hall. She keyed the override, then held the door open. “Call me when you’re ready to come back in.” Maggie nodded and slipped outside. The door clicked shut behind her.

  The night wasn’t dark here, or quiet. Even though there was no moon, the mountainside above her glowed with light. Floodlights bathed each ski run in white as snow guns spit long arcs of snow over the slopes, the white fountains adding a layer of powder to fight off the spring melt. By morning, huge snowcats would have the runs packed and groomed for the last skiers of the season. It might be after 2:00 a.m., but the slopes were busy.

  At least the people out here weren’t reporters. She ran to Cal’s truck and was relieved to find he hadn’t locked it. Her pants might be dirty, but they were a lot warmer than bare legs. She traded the robe for her jacket while she was there.

  Going back inside wasn’t appealing. She wandered toward the equipment barn, staying close to the pine trees that shielded it from the view of guests. Away from buildings, among the fragrant branches of the pines, she at least had the illusion of solitude. Even the diesel exhaust from the snow groomer idling in front of the barn drifted in another direction. The air among the trees was fresh, filled with the spring smells of damp earth and new growth—just what she needed. Maggie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

  The faint trace of cigarette smoke touched her nostrils. Someone else was out here, not too far away.

  Cal skirted the reporters as he scanned the lobby. No Amber, no security guard. The man had looked too earnest and impressed with Cal’s badge to have let her go; they had to be close by. His best bet was the security office. If the guard wasn’t there, someone would know where to find him.

  “Looks like something’s going on,” said Rick, taking in the mass of reporters and photographers by the fountain. Cal had nearly forgotten about him in his eagerness to wring Amber’s neck.

  Maggie’s bartop striptease would explain the paparazzi. So would Rafe’s bruised face. Since the reporters were keeping an eye on the door that led to the administrative offices, he figured one or both of them were in there.

  He hadn’t told Rick what had happened in The Aerie. He didn’t intend to, either—Rick had chosen sides when he tried to use Amber. Encouraging him to mingle with his own kind could be a good way to get rid of him. “I’ll check with Zoe. Why don’t you stay here, find out what’s going on?”

  “Right.” Rick sauntered over to a group of reporters. He didn’t even realize he’d been dumped.

  Cal nodded to the desk clerk and slipped through the doorway to the administrative offices. He’d check with security first, and hope they had Amber. Then he could find Maggie. Of the two, Amber was the slipperier, the one who’d run if he turned his back. Maggie would just . . . actually, he wasn’t sure what to expect from Maggie, after that striptease on the bar. But he would start with Amber.

  He paused with his hand on the door to the security office. Sergeant Kyle Todd walked toward him from the direction of Zoe’s office.

  A cold spot formed inside Cal, an icy lump of fatalism. He could think of two reasons for Todd to be here—one, to arrest him for smashing Rafe in the face, or two, to arrest Maggie for public indecency. Like any good criminal, he acted innocent. “Hey, Kyle. What’s up?”

  “I got word that Rafe De Luca was here. We’ve been trying to find him for questioning ever since you led us to those bodies.”

  He wouldn’t mind having a word with Rafe himself, especially if he was in there with Amber. “Mind if I watch?”

  Todd only gave it a second’s thought. “I guess you’ve got a stake in this, too.”

  He had no idea how much. Cal followed him through the door.

  A man turned from the bank of monitors he was watching. At a desk on the other side of the tiny office, Rafe sat holding an ice bag to the side of his face.

  “I’m looking for a girl named Amber,” Cal told the security guard at the monitors. “I left her with another—”

  “Assistant man
ager’s office,” the guy cut him off. “Down the hall.”

  If Zoe had her, Amber was safe. Rafe didn’t look interested, anyway. He glanced at Sergeant Todd and sank into a scowl. “Don’t waste your time. I don’t talk to cops without my lawyer present.”

  Todd arched an eyebrow. “You get a lot of practice being questioned?”

  Rafe’s narrowed glance took in Cal. “If you’ve already talked to him, I’m not giving my side without my lawyer.”

  Todd turned a questioning look on Cal. “His side?”

  Cal gave a half smile in return. “I’m the one who gave him the lump on his jaw.”

  Todd turned back to Rafe. “You have a lump?”

  Rafe glared and lowered the ice bag. Cal stepped forward to see. Purple bloomed along Rafe’s finely chiseled jaw, with red stretching over the cheekbone. Cal smiled; the golf ball–size swelling was coming in nicely.

  Todd smiled. “This should be good.”

  “Arrest him!”

  “Well now, I might get to that later,” Todd said, as unconcerned as if Rafe had requested a can of soda. “But that’s not what I’m here for.”

  Rafe sat straighter. “Why the hell not? I want to press charges against that asshole. I don’t care if he is a cop, he didn’t have the right to hit me. You really slipped in shit this time, cowboy. You ever seen the press go after a cop for police brutality? I got witnesses.”

  “And I have pictures—of you with your hands all over a sixteen-year-old girl.”

  Rafe clamped his mouth shut.

  Todd said, “I came to ask you about Emily Banks.”

  Rafe returned the ice bag to his face. “I already talked to the cops about that. I don’t know where she went that night.”

  “We found her body.”

  Rafe met Todd’s eyes briefly, unconcerned. Pretty damn composed for a killer. “Yeah? So what? Everyone figured she was dead. Now you have proof. Go do your forensic stuff, find out who did it, and leave me alone.”

  “That’s such a touching testimonial for a girl you spent most of an evening with.”

  “I’m all sniffly,” Cal agreed.

  “Fuck you.” Rafe moved the ice bag for an unimpeded glare. “You’re out of your jurisdiction, cowboy.”

  “I’m not,” Todd said, his voice suddenly several degrees colder. “And I’m the one talking to you.”

  Rafe gave him a sullen stare. “Like I said, I’m waiting for my lawyer.”

  “Fine. Here’s something to think about while you wait. I got a dead girl who was last seen with you, and whose body was found on your parents’ property. Their gated, guarded property that you have access to. I want to know how she got there.”

  Cal knew he wasn’t fishing for an answer, not after Rafe had mentioned his lawyer. He just wanted to see Rafe’s uncensored reaction to the news. So did Cal.

  Denial wouldn’t have surprised him. The furious, self-righteous arrogance of a criminal who knows he can use the law to protect himself.

  What he hadn’t expected was shock. Rafe’s face went slack and drained of color. He lowered the ice bag. “Her body was at my parents’ house?”

  “Are you speaking to me voluntarily, without your lawyer?” Todd glanced at the security guard by the monitors to make sure he had a witness. No problem—the guy hadn’t looked at his screens since they walked in.

  “Yeah, yeah, no lawyer,” Rafe said, waving his hand impatiently. “Tell me where you found her body.”

  Cal noted the mix of puzzlement and concern in Rafe’s eyes, and frowned. He hadn’t thought the asshole was a good enough actor to fake it so convincingly.

  “In a pool of water inside an abandoned mine.”

  “A mine? What mine?” Rafe’s forehead showed deep creases, then cleared as he shook his head. “There’s no mine on that property. You’d better check a map.” His confidence returned rapidly. “And get yourself a whole damn law firm while you’re at it, because you just implied some very damaging shit that’s going to end your career.”

  “It’s on De Luca land,” Todd told him, unruffled. “No question.”

  They exchanged stares for several seconds, while doubt grew on Rafe’s face. “Where?”

  “The sharp rise east of the house. There’s at least one more body in there, too.”

  “What? You mean there was another missing girl? I thought it was just those other two, a long time ago.” Panic crept into his voice. “Besides, I only did her in my car, I never . . .” He stopped, wild eyes narrowing to slits. “I’m not talking to you anymore. I’m talking to my lawyer.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you both at the police station.” Todd turned abruptly and walked out. Cal followed, his mind buzzing with confusion.

  Todd stopped in the empty hallway. “I didn’t say the second body was a girl. And I didn’t say how long the body had been there.”

  “I know.” Rafe had jumped to conclusions. The wrong conclusions.

  “I saw him in that movie where he played a racecar driver,” Todd said. “The kid can’t act worth a damn.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t think he knew about that mine.”

  Cal nodded slowly. “I don’t either.” It was infuriating. Just when all the puzzle pieces seemed to be coming together, this scattered them all over the board. “But I’m certain he was with Emily and those other two girls before they disappeared. Maybe someone else disposed of the bodies for him.”

  “Or maybe someone else killed them.”

  He didn’t want to admit it, but it looked possible. Rafe was a sneaky, lying creep who used and abused women—he was sure of that much. But it was possible someone else around him was just as sick and abusive. Someone who might look down on the women who threw themselves at Rafe and went home with him for one-night stands.

  The pieces were starting to move back into place. Maybe someone was charged with taking the girls home when Rafe was done with them. His personal security guards would be an obvious choice. Plus, they were all beefy enough to be pumped up on steroids, which would give them an aggressive attitude. They might easily overreact, like the one who’d gone after Maggie.

  Maggie—he had to tell her about this. He pulled out his phone and called her. He hadn’t been aware of his tension until she answered and he let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Where are you?”

  “Outside, near the equipment barn. I needed some air.”

  “Stay there. I’ll pick up Amber and meet you.”

  Maggie pocketed the phone, walking aimlessly. She wasn’t up for this, but she had to face Cal’s outrage sooner or later. They hadn’t discussed what constituted a reckless impulse, but she was pretty sure stripping on a bar in front of a whistling, stomping crowd of men would qualify. The longer she put off their breakup, the more it would hurt.

  Pine needles rustled behind her. “I believe we need to talk.”

  Maggie gasped and spun around. Parker Jameson stood three feet away, dressed in his usual three-piece suit even in the middle of the night. Maybe he slept in it.

  She didn’t have to ask what they needed to talk about. It would be the same thing they always talked about—Rafe. His image needs and her stubborn demands. Only this time, she and Cal had the upper hand, and she was going to get her way.

  She hadn’t noticed the cigarette he was holding until he raised it for a long pull, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “Only when I’m having a bad day.” He smiled faintly. “This has been a very bad day.”

  Not as bad as hers, but at least it was some consolation that she’d helped put the De Lucas and their lawyer in a tight spot. “You heard about the mine?”

  “I did.” He gave her a considering look that was not nearly as unfriendly as she’d expected. “And what a coincidence that it should be you and your friend who discovered the bodies there.”

  He seemed strangely calm in spite of his bad day, but that might be normal for a soulless minion of Satan. “There’s nothing coinci
dental about it. Cal knew Rafe is a murderer, he just had to prove it.”

  “Yes, Mr. Drummond has been persistent in going after my client.”

  His placid expression was starting to bug her. Why wasn’t he more worried? “Because he’s guilty.”

  Jameson gave her a condescending smile. “Because Mr. Drummond wanted to make him appear guilty. Of course, that’s to be expected from serial killers, trying to make the evidence point to someone else.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you talking about Cal? You’ve got to be kidding! If that’s your idea of a defense, I can tell you no one’s going to believe it.”

  “Naturally, you’d defend him. You’ve let your emotions delude you.”

  It was true a lot of emotion surrounded her feelings for Cal. Love, especially. But that wasn’t delusion, it was a deep, heartwarming truth, one that looked like it was about to become a heart-wrenching loss. “I’m not the one who’s deluded.”

  Jameson shook his head sadly. “Consider it from an objective point of view. Cal Drummond is estranged from his mother, openly criticizing her lifestyle. When his sister seems to be emulating that lifestyle, wantonly chasing after celebrities, Cal confronts her. In a rage, he kills her.”

  “What!”

  “Perhaps he didn’t mean to, but I suspect he did. Because she wasn’t the first.”

  She snorted a laugh. “What’s in that cigarette?”

  “He killed at least twice before,” Jameson mused, ignoring her question. “Right here in Barringer’s Pass. He chose women known to be easy, women who were looking for a man who would show them a good time, maybe solve all their problems. Rather like his mother’s relationship with men, wouldn’t you say? That seems to be the thing that sets him off. Do you see the pattern?”

  The way he twisted things around made her dizzy. “Cal never met those girls. But Rafe did—he’s the one with a pattern of dead girlfriends.”

  “Ah, yes. Rafe. For some reason Mr. Drummond decided to make my client look guilty. Perhaps he was envious of Rafe’s well-known success with women? Whatever the case, he invented this idea that Rafe was involved in their disappearance, and planted it with the family and friends of the two women he had killed, all the while pretending to conduct a murder investigation—which he is unauthorized to do, by the way. Of course, it would be difficult to convince those families that they had been manipulated by the De Lucas, when the De Lucas were the ones who set up a reward for finding their daughters’ killer. They also established charitable funds in the girls’ names as a memorial to them. The families were quite touched.”