“The guy who kicked Mr. Universe in the nuts.”
Smiling sweetly, she snapped the phone shut and handed it back. “Follow me.”
She marched off without a backward glance. He narrowed his eyes at the swing of her hips under her black skirt and weighed his options. His cover was blown. Red had just jumped into more danger than she knew and—taking a wild guess—she was bound to make it worse.
Shoving the phone in his pocket, he marched after her.
Her name was Maggie. He gathered that much during the enraged tirade from the highly polished, younger version of her that was her sister Zoe. To be fair, it was probably the official hotel management duds that made Zoe look so prim and proper—navy blue skirt and blazer, white blouse, and strawberry blonde hair identical to her sister’s but pulled into a neat bun. Maggie’s loose waves went a long way toward erasing any hint of propriety.
So did her attitude.
“I tried not to start something, I swear,” she claimed, brushing by her sister to head down the hall. Cal trailed them to what was apparently Zoe’s office. Maggie paced before the desk, hands alternately combing hair off her neck and gesturing as she spoke. “I told him to get lost several times, but the little perv wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Since Zoe didn’t ask who the perv was, he figured she’d already heard some version of the incident.
“He kept touching me.” Maggie glared, looking like she’d like to smack DeLuca again. “And even then I controlled myself, Zoe. I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“But you did.” Zoe stood with arms crossed, unmoved by her sister’s anger.
“Yes, and you know why?” Maggie put her hands on her hips, her pretty pink lips pressed into a tight line. “He said he could give me what I wanted, and he knew I’d like it because—get this—I’m one of the Larkin girls.”
Zoe’s arms dropped. “Oh.” Pain crossed her face. Cal definitely had to look into the significance of their supposed last name.
With all the energy sucked out of her anger, Zoe’s gaze finally shifted toward Cal. “Who are you?”
“Cal Drummond. I hauled your sister’s ass out of there before it got really ugly.”
Maggie lifted a hand from her hip. “I was handling it.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffed. “You were asking to get killed. Rafe DeLuca is a dangerous man.”
Her eyes narrowed, a look he was getting used to. “Thanks a lot. I brought you along to back me up, not throw me under the bus.”
“It happened just like she said,” he confirmed to Zoe, then turned a hard look on Maggie. “And it was incredibly stupid.”
“Hey, at least I stood up for myself. I was brave, damn it,” she seethed.
Brave . . . and reckless. The words hit him like an icy splash of water. He’d been attracted to that mix once before and knew how deadly it could be—and how devastating. It was something he never wanted to go through again. He pushed the memory of Diane into the deep well where he kept it and spoke through gritted teeth. “There’s a fine line between brave and stupid, and you plowed right over it.”
Zoe looked ready to side with him. “Couldn’t you have been a little more diplomatic? I’ve got half my staff out there trying to soothe some very powerful, very pissed-off customers. I’ll probably have to comp their meals and rooms for several days, just to keep them from suing the hotel.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Cal said.
She arched a condescending eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why not?”
“Because you shouldn’t let the DeLucas put you on the defensive. And when I say the DeLucas, I mean their lawyers, because that’s who you’ll be hearing from. You could have easily called the cops on their precious boy and his hired ape, but you didn’t. Be sure to point that out. Forget the sexual harassment part—”
“Sure, that’s not important at all,” Maggie muttered.
Cal ignored her and kept talking. “It’s too hard to prove and you’ll only get conflicting accounts. But the big guy they employ pulled a gun in a crowded room. Maybe he only planned to scare your sister with it, although I wouldn’t bet on it. He had two drinks while I was there—seriously unprofessional for a bodyguard. He’ll probably get fired anyway for letting something happen in the first place, but if I were you, I’d point out what you didn’t do. You didn’t call the cops and make an official report, you didn’t have their gun-wielding bodyguard Breathalyzed, and you didn’t have Rafe held on charges of harassment. Maybe none of it would stick, but it wouldn’t matter because it would already be headlines, and not the kind they want. You know it, and they know it. You minimized the damage.”
Zoe stared at him for several seconds, then gave a curt nod. “You’re right. Thanks.”
Maggie peered at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m a cop.”
“Where?”
“Oklahoma City. I’m on leave.”
“And you just happened to be at an exclusive resort in the Colorado Rockies watching me?”
He uttered a short laugh. “You? I was watching De-Luca.” And Maggie, which still irritated him enough to make him deny it. He refused to be seen as one more poor sucker panting after her when he was sure there must be dozens. “I’ve been following him for three weeks.”
Zoe tilted her head, puzzling it out. “Not because you’re a fan, I imagine.”
“Hardly,” Cal scoffed. “Flexing and posing for the camera is only one of the things that sorry excuse for a man does. The other is much less pretty.” He flicked a glance at Maggie. “He’s a killer.”
Cal watched their mouths open and their eyes go wide before Maggie blurted, “Rafe DeLuca? Star of tabloids and reality TV? Famous for being rich and obnoxious?” She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “The man can’t even go into Starbucks without causing a media alert. How could he possibly get away with murder?”
He noted that she hadn’t objected to the idea that he’d do it, just that he’d get away with it. At least she had no trouble reading the man’s character. “If I’m right, he’s gotten away with it several times. He has a violent temper, a lust for power, and a family that will go to any lengths to protect the reputation of their only son.”
“You’re kidding.” Zoe sank into her chair, staring at him in disbelief.
“I wish I were.”
Maggie seemed less shocked than skeptical. He didn’t know if that was due to his claim or to the fact that it came from him. “You can prove it?”
“Not yet.” It was a sore spot, since he wasn’t sure how he ever would, short of finding the bodies on Rafe’s property. He figured the odds of that were greatest right here, where the DeLuca family had a huge estate and where at least two of the young women in question had last been seen.
“But you’re building a case? I can’t believe the Oklahoma City cops would let you trail him to Colorado. Are you working in conjunction with the FBI?”
She was sharper than he’d thought. “No,” he admitted. “I took a leave of absence, like I said. I’m doing this on my own.”
Maggie took several seconds to absorb the information, rubbing a finger over her lower lip, which he found distracting all over again. “Why?”
He dragged his focus away from her mouth. With the way her eyes had softened, he knew she’d already guessed it was personal. “His last victim was my half sister, Julie.” The corners of her mouth tightened, but she said nothing. “She lived in L.A. Her body was dumped in the hills. She’d been tied, then had her throat cut.”
“Oh my God,” Zoe breathed.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie murmured.
“Me, too.” He heard the gruffness in his voice and hardened his expression to match it. Anything to keep the vise grip of guilt from immobilizing him now that he’d finally started making progress. When it came down to it, he hadn’t known Julie well, but her death had taught him an uncomfortable truth—guilt could be just as crippling as grief.
Scowling at the unwanted em
otions, he said, “Once I starting looking into it, I saw a pattern of missing women leading back to Rafe. I don’t want to see it happen again. I took a personal leave after Julie’s funeral, and I’m not going back until I stop the son of a bitch for good.”
Maggie nodded once, as if approving of his plan. “But he’s not going to do that to me.” The aggression was gone, but the naïve, stubborn confidence was still there. “It would be a stupid move—there were too many witnesses. He’d be the first suspect.”
Cal heaved a sigh, his exasperation with her returning. “You don’t get it. You made him look bad in public, and the DeLucas never look bad. He’s going to fix it one way or another.” He stepped closer, making sure Maggie’s golden-brown eyes couldn’t look away from him. He needed her to understand, to fear like Diane hadn’t. “Don’t underestimate what just happened. Rafe’s family is probably already huddling with lawyers, trying to figure out the best way to put a positive spin on your little incident.”
“You act like it’s headline news.”
“It is! Didn’t you see the cameras flashing? That place was full of paparazzi.”
“But they don’t know who I am.”
“By tomorrow morning, they will. I guarantee it.” A flicker of discomfort touched her eyes, and he went after it, ruthlessly driving home his point. “You’re going to be tabloid headlines, Maggie. They’ll have your name, and they’ll be digging hard to find mine. The incident will be blown out of proportion and so will the theories they come up with for why it happened. Have you ever read those papers? You’re in the shark tank, and they smell blood.”
Worry lines creased her forehead. “I don’t have to talk to them.”
“That’s your best move, but it won’t be enough.”
She blinked, staring, and he saw real apprehension finally settle in. She licked her lips nervously. “Then how can I stop it?”
“You can’t. Rafe DeLuca’s coming after you, and there’s nothing you can do but try to survive it.”
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