DADDY WITH A BADGE

by Paula Detmer Riggs

Smart little thing, she knew that as well as he did. She'd seen through him from the start. He was just a guy pretending to be tough who wanted to sleep with her mom.

  * * *

  "Of course I'm not avoiding you, Papa," Danni said, rubbing the knot at the back of her neck. "I've just been busy."

  "You got your car fixed, cara? The mechanic did a good job?"

  "Yes, fine."

  His voice turned cagey. "So you and Lyssa will come down early next Saturday so we can spend time together before the fiesta begins?"

  She glanced up to see Rafe watching her from the doorway of the den. "I'd like that, Papa, but—"

  "No buts, cara. It's been nearly six weeks since I laid eyes on my Princess. Besides, it's bad luck to refuse a man his fondest wish on his birthday."

  She bit her lip, then made a decision. "Of course, we'll come early, Papa. I wouldn't miss helping Aunt Gina obsess over every miniscule detail for anything."

  With Rafe's gaze boring into her she managed to say goodbye without making any more promises. Her hand shook slightly as she hung up, but she figured he was too far away to notice.

  "Save the glare for someone who doesn't know what a soft heart you have hidden beneath that rampaging tough guy exterior," she said, leaning back in Morgan's butter-soft chair and crossing her arms.

  He actually turned red although his jaw remained white where the muscles were strained taut. "Have you listened to anything I've been saying, Doctor Fabrizio?" he demanded in a voice that was dangerously soft. "Or has that hard head you have hidden beneath all that soft hair finally turned to pure stone?"

  She felt her backbone snap into a straight line. "The only time Lys and I missed one of Papa's birthday bashes was the year Mark died. This year especially we need to feel that connection with family tradition. Besides, there's no way Folsom can know where we're going unless he follows us, and you're too careful to let that happen. And even if he did follow us, the vineyard is just about the safest place we could be."

  Those thick tawny lashes narrowed until his eyes were mere slits. Instead of lessening the lethal impact of those remarkable green eyes, however, it seemed to magnify it exponentially. "Tell me, Doctor, what brilliant piece of logic led you to that conclusion?" he demanded, biting off his words.

  "Simple arithmetic, Agent. Four Mancini males, three Fabrizios, four Cardozas—well, five, if we count you which I certainly do—plus countless other vineyard workers against one weasel."

  She'd seen him lose his temper only once—when he'd caught one of the seasonal workers beating his ten-year-old son. Though he'd been only fourteen and only half the man's weight, he'd backed him up against the bottling shed and torn into him. The man's terror had been so great Danni had felt it yards away.

  At the moment he had his temper under rigid control, but she felt it strain to explode. "Run that count again, only subtract one Cardoza. Seth will handle this particular detail. I'm taking the day off."

  He turned on his heel and disappeared, leaving her feeling as though she'd just survived a train wreck.

  * * *

  Lyssa kept the cell phone under her winter sweaters on the shelf in the closet when she was at school. As soon as she got home, however, she slipped it under her pillow where the ringing would be muffled.

  She had been thrilled when Jody had given it to her in algebra class, explaining that Jonathan had knocked on the back door of her house when her mother had gone to have her hair done and begged her to slip the phone to Lys when Seth wasn't watching.

  He said the police are likely recording all the calls on your regular phone, Jody had explained, looking as guilty as sin as she glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Listen for his call at eleven every night, she had added, then giggled. Lys had felt like some kind of secret agent when she'd slipped the cute little phone into her purse.

  At first she'd been so happy to hear his voice. He sounded so sad that her mom hadn't believed him about his business being in trouble and all. Lyssa understood how he needed her money to keep from going bankrupt, so why didn't her mom?

  He was doing great now and wanted to pay her back, only Rafe had cooked up this plan to earn himself a promotion by proving Jonathan was a crook.

  But my sweet Lyssa believes in me, don't you, baby? he kept asking over and over, like it was really important. So she told him that she did. Which had been true at first, but now, she wasn't so sure.

  With a sigh, she closed the history book she wasn't really reading before flipping onto her stomach. Resting her chin on her hands, she stared at the tiny pink rosebuds in the wallpaper, trying to decide what she really thought.

  It wasn't easy figuring out adults. With her friends, it was pretty easy to tell when someone was lying, but like Jody said, grown-ups had a lot more practice perfecting their act.

  The thing was, she was beginning to have this funny prickly feeling in her stomach as soon as she heard Jonathan's voice. Like her body was hearing stuff her mind wasn't. Kind of like ESP, she figured, letting her mind wander for a minute to the program she'd seen once on the Discovery channel. How some people can pick up signals like radio waves that tell them things. Like the sudden burst of panic she'd felt right before Dad's Jag had started skidding.

  The feeling she got from Rafe was different. Even when he was being all bossy and mean, she always felt safe when he was around, kind of like a part of him was holding her in his arms. It was the same feeling she got from Mom, only different, too.

  Did that mean he was right about Jonathan wanting to hurt her and Mom? She and Jody had talked about it a lot since Jonathan had started talking about the two of them figuring out a way so he could talk to Mom alone, without Rafe hanging around.

  Jody liked both of them, but she liked Rafe better. But that was because she had a crush on him. Jody didn't think it was right to trick her mom, but Jonathan made it sound like she'd be really hurting Mom if she didn't help him. Like if Mom still loved him, Lys would be the one keeping them from being a family again.

  Only how could Mom love him when she and Rafe were always touching and smiling and laughing together when they thought she wasn't watching? Seth claimed Rafe hadn't ever been married and never really got serious about the women he took out back in Washington.

  Only Rafe didn't act like he wanted to be her dad the way Jonathan did. Lyssa wanted a dad more than anything. Sometimes she missed her real dad so much she wanted to die so she could be with him. She'd been with him in the light for a long time before the angel told her she had to go back to her body because it wasn't her time.

  Now she was beginning to have that same scary feeling, like maybe she shouldn't have told Jonathan about them going down to the vineyard for Grandpa Mancini's birthday on Saturday.

  He'd seemed so excited when she'd told him. It was perfect. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get Mom alone. He would need her help, and she'd promised, but now she was feeling kind of guilty about the whole thing. She was still trying to puzzle things through when the phone rang. She took a deep breath, then drew it out and answered.

  "How's my pretty girl this evening?" Jonathan asked, his voice loving like always. Only the prickles in her belly were worse all of a sudden.

  "Okay," she said, cupping her free hand around the receiver to keep anyone from hearing.

  "I've figured out where we can meet," he said, sounding like he was smiling. "I have it all worked out. And you, my baby girl, are going to play the most important part of all."

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  « ^ »

  Something wasn't right.

  It had been niggling at him for a week now, this feeling that he was missing something important. But what?

  He ran over the precautions he'd taken one by one, examining each one for possible flaws. It was solid, damn it. All of it. Still, he'd taken to checking with both surveillance teams before buttoning up the house for the night. They were seasoned pros, both of them, if a little young.


  Danni and Lyssa had gone upstairs around 10:00 p.m. Seth had watched the playoff game between the Blazers and Pacers before turning in around midnight.

  Habit had him checking on his partner before he headed back into the den. With his hair mussed, and face relaxed he looked a lot like his brother, Carlos, who was the oldest of Rosaria's natural children.

  A hard knot formed in his gut as he remembered the awe he'd felt when Enrique had put the new little baby boy in his arms a few minutes after he'd been born. Because he was their special son, he was to be his baby brother's godfather, the man he'd worshipped had told him before putting his strong arms around them both.

  His eyes burned as he remembered the pride that had filled him at that moment. It felt good to be special, he'd thought as he made a vow to God to protect his hermano with his own life.

  Carlos would be thirty-two now. A man who likely had sons of his own. Did they even know they had an uncle who loved their father very much? he wondered as he reached down to tug the afghan closer to Seth's stubborn Yankee chin.

  He snapped off the lamp the kid had left burning before turning to walk back to the den. He had just tugged off his shirt when he heard a soft tap on the door he'd left ajar.

  "Rafe, can I come in?"

  Surprise ran through him when he heard Lyssa's voice. "Come ahead, niña," he said, his curiosity hitting the red zone.

  She was dressed for bed in an oversize Acid Aliens T-shirt in a gaudy green color he was pretty sure glowed in the dark.

  "Thought you'd be asleep hours ago," he said after a quick look at the antique wall clock. "One in the morning's pretty late for a girl who has kick-boxing class in the morning."

  "I couldn't sleep," she mumbled, pressing her hands together in front of her. Protecting herself from him? he wondered. Or trying to keep herself from flying into pieces?

  "Something I can help you with?"

  She shrugged, her gaze darting from the desk, to the overflowing book cases, and then finally to the floor. Anywhere but at him. He was beginning to feel the telltale burning in his gut that told him something was about to go sideways unless he paid close attention.

  "Want to give me a hint, or should I just pick a subject at random?" he teased when she continued to stand there looking like a puppy expecting a scolding but desperately hoping for a hug instead. He had to anchor his hands on his hips to keep from grabbing her up and cradling her close.

  Her silence had him biting off a sigh. What now, slick?

  Women liked guys to bare their soul, right? Maybe he couldn't do it with Danni, but Lyssa already hated him, so he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  "Lyssa, I know you're not real sure about me and why I'm here, but I swear on all I hold sacred that I'd volunteer to take a beating rather than hurt you or your mom."

  A clam gave away more than one half-grown girl. Some guy was going to have his hands full with this one in three or four years.

  "She said you're her friend," she said finally, looking anything but convinced.

  "I am. There was a time when I thought maybe I'd be lucky enough to spend my life with her. Your dad ended up having that honor, but she's still very special to me. And so are you because you're one very special girl."

  "You're just saying that 'cause you know my Mom wants us to get along," she whispered in a hurt voice that went deep inside him.

  "I meant every word, sweetheart. I know what it's like to wake up in a hospital bed in a world of hurt, scared I was going to die one minute and praying that I would the next. It had to be a thousand times worse for you, Lyssa. I know how much courage it took for you to come back from that, and I can't think of anyone I respect more."

  Her skinny shoulders heaved but she glanced up, more like a peek, he thought, only when her gaze hit his chest, her expression changed and her head came up fast. "What happened to your chest?"

  He glanced down at the railroad track scar running from sternum to navel. Did it really look all that bad? he wondered, brushing his hand over its length. "I got shot. The doctors had to open me up to keep me from bleeding to death."

  "They did that to me too, only it was my stomach." She frowned. "Who shot you?"

  "My money's on your good friend, Jonathan Sommerset." He took a chance and walked over to give her a real good look at the damage a bullet can do. "Lyssa, I know you don't want to believe me, but he's no good, sweetheart. He's killed at least once before, only we couldn't prove it."

  She stared at his scarred flesh, the freckles sprinkled across her nose standing out as her skin visibly paled. "He told me you weren't doing your job and that's why that lady got killed, only he didn't shoot her the way you said he did. He swore on his mother's grave that you were trying to make him take the blame on account of you got in trouble for not catching the real killer."

  Rafe kept the staggering shock buttoned inside but he had to take a minute before he could trust his voice to remain calm. "Sounds like you and … Jonathan have been having some real interesting conversations."

  Her chin drooped lower. "He calls me at night."

  "Does he?" He shot a glance at the phone. Since that one slip, Danni had let the machine answer. Since six, when he and Danni had gotten home, it had rung several times. He'd listened to the messages before passing them on. Two had come from ladies in the neighborhood, one had been from a patient. The fourth had been from Eddie.

  "Did you talk with Jonathan tonight, honey?"

  She nodded. "He gave Jody this cell phone to give to me in algebra class. I keep it in my room."

  It hit him then, what had been bothering him. "The other night when I heard you talking when I passed your room, and you said you were practicing a part in a play for drama class? You were talking to him then, weren't you?"

  She nodded again. "I'm sorry I lied, but I knew you'd take away my phone. And tell Mom."

  He risked a grin. "You got that right on both counts."

  "You can yell at me if you like. I deserve it." Anticipating the blast, she squared those brave little shoulders, and the urge to hug her was almost more than he could handle. But he made himself stand perfectly still. His gut told him she was still trying to decide if she could trust him not to hurt her. Much as he hated doing nothing, the decision had to be hers.

  "Guess I could yell, yeah. Only that would just make us both feel bad, and I can't see any useful purpose to that, can you?"

  As brave as a soldier facing court martial, she looked him squarely in the eyes and shook her head. "Once when Daddy yelled at me, I threw up all over his new shoes."

  Rafe eyed the loafers he'd just spit shined that morning before giving her a rueful look "That settles it for me. We'll skip the yelling and go straight to the part where you tell me what you and Jonathan talked about."

  The amusement that had crept into her eyes disappeared instantly. "Mostly he asked questions, about what Mom did and where she went. He wanted me to find out if she was going any place special, like to see Dr. Jarrod or for a walk, stuff like that. He didn't like it much when I told him you and Seth always took a different way when you took us places. And sometimes you used different cars, too. But then he got real excited when I told him about going down to Grandpa's on Saturday."

  Rafe noticed that she was beginning to look a little wobbly. He wasn't feeling all that steady himself. "Lys, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to finish this sitting down. It's been a long day for this beat-up old body."

  She looked startled, but she padded to the couch and sat down. He was careful to keep some distance between them as he did the same. Moving slowly, he stretched his arm along the top of the cushion and gave into the yawn that was always there, waiting when he was chronically short of sleep.

  "So what's this plan Jonathan's come up with?" he prodded when she remained silent.

  Eyes as big as silver dollars, she stared at him. "How did you know he had a plan?"

  He shrugged. "Why else would you pick tonight to brave the lion?"

&n
bsp; She frowned. "What lion?"

  "Me, honey." He tried to gentle his voice and his smile. "Or maybe I'm the big bad wolf?"

  She studied him silently and so intently he actually had to stop himself from squirming. "I think you're more like a lion than a wolf, especially if you let your hair grow."

  "I wore it that way once. Drove me crazy, always in my face or making my neck hot, so I took to tying it back in a little tail when I worked. Your mom liked it that way, so I put up with the hassle."

  She cocked her head like an inquisitive little bird. "Why did you cut it?"

  "Went into the Army. This mean-as-a-grizzly drill sergeant explained real polite like that soldiers weren't allowed ponytails. Seemed to think it was wimpy or something weird like that."

  She laughed and he felt like pumping his arms in the air and shouting. Instead he reached over to tug on a soft curl. "Now that you found out the lion doesn't bite brave young ladies with pretty brown eyes, how about you tell me all about Jonathan's plan?"

  * * *

  It took him most of the night to work out the details from every angle, but by dawn when he shook Seth awake, he had a solid plan. The two of them had gone through two pots of coffee, trying to think of everything that could go wrong. By the time they'd run out of possible screw-ups, he called Linc's private number.

  It both humbled and gratified him that Linc had cut short a meeting with the Secretary of the Treasury to take his call. Now, almost twenty minutes later, he stood in front of the den window, watching a couple of jays splashing each other in the birdbath, laying out the details in logical order. "I know it's risky, but with the right planning and personnel, it's workable," he said when he'd finished.

  "Why use the daughter? Why not the mother?"

  "For one thing Dr. Fabrizio is more than six months pregnant. For another, I can't take the chance she'd refuse."

  "In other words you're dead certain she would refuse to put her daughter at risk."

  Rafe winced. Trust Linc to cut through the bull. "Something like that, yeah."

  Linc's sigh was weighted. Not a good sign. The scar tissue on Rafe's chest started to throb. "Legally, it's not entrapment since you're acting on a tip from an informant, so we're clear there."