3 Dime If I Know

by Maggie Toussaint

  Rafe stabbed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t own a gun. Believe me, I don’t want to ever hold a gun again. Brenna’s death was a terrible accident, and I didn’t kill Starr. Don’t you believe me?”

  “I believe Britt will use this incident in your past to show you’re proficient with guns. He might even say you have a history of violence. We have to be prepared for that.”

  “There’s no connection between the two incidents. Why don’t you believe me?”

  “I believe you. I do. But I know what we’re up against. Britt keeps moving toward a goal, and right now you’re in his sights. With his law enforcement connections, he has the inside track on information. The only way to beat him is to join forces and hopefully get ahead of him.” I shot him a sympathetic glance. “I know this isn’t easy, but we have to explore every possibility. Will the forensic team find your fingerprints or DNA at Starr’s place?”

  He didn’t answer, and I thought for sure he’d bolt. First, he stared at the floor then he walked over to gaze out the window I’d cleaned. What was going through his head? He exhaled deeply and spoke in a monotone.

  “I went to see Starr that night, but I wasn’t sleeping with her. I was helping her get her life back on track, but each month she had a new disaster, a new excuse why she couldn’t get a job.

  Once I gave her money, she kept telling me how much she needed my help, how she couldn’t make it without me. I wanted her to be self-sufficient. She had such promise six years ago, but she quit trying to stand on her own two feet and felt like the world owed her.”

  “I’ve known people like that,” I said, stepping toward him. “They aren’t easy to help.”

  “Starr manipulated me.” He faced me, his expression grim. “She knew which buttons to push to worm money out of me. I let her. Once I invested in her future, I couldn’t pull the plug. I wanted her to turn her life around. Giving up on her would mean I’d failed. I’m embarassed to be such a patsy.”

  “You were her welfare program?”

  He managed a wry smile. “Something like that.”

  “Any more surprises I should know about?”

  “Those are my only two brushes with the law.”

  Sneaky. He avoided my question. “We’ll get through this. Family and friends pull together in times of crisis.”

  “You don’t know my family.”

  “I know me.”

  CHAPTER 21

  * * *

  Monday morning arrived with sagging skies and rumbling thunder in the mountains. Even though I popped a decongestant and an analgesic, sinus pressure built in my head.

  Crappy weather and a crappy mood.

  Monday wasn’t my favorite day of the week by any stretch. It was the day the pile of bills loomed large, and prospects of income looked slim this time of year. As an accountant, the bulk of my business happened during tax season, from January through April.

  Over the past two years, I’d picked up auditing work here and there, which had greatly helped my bottom line, but I needed a more stable income base. I glanced down at the request for an audit bid we’d received from the school board.

  Mama leaned over my shoulder. “Look at that date. We can’t do it.”

  “The March completion date isn’t optimal, but landing this client is a big deal.”

  “Joe always declined all non-tax business during our busy season.”

  “Daddy did fine by the company, but times have changed. Fewer people seek out an accountant. They do their taxes themselves these days. Our net income during tax season has declined each year. We need other income.”

  “We can’t possibly manage a group this big.”

  “First off, there’s no guarantee we’ll win the bid. Second, it will be a great opportunity. I’ve seen how the system works. Once we get our foot in the door with the county, they’ll send other work our way. We might draw more individual tax clients from there as well. We already know tax season is busy. If we get this work, we’ll schedule around it.”

  “How? We’d need to hire another accountant.”

  “Can’t do that. We have to tighten our belts.”

  “Don’t you give me that speech. I can recite it chapter and verse after hearing it from your father all those years. Thank God, Bud isn’t so miserly with his money.”

  I exhaled a sigh of relief at the chance to change the subject. “Speaking of Bud, how are the wedding plans coming?”

  “Great. I’ll be a married woman in two weeks. All you have to do is show up.”

  “I wish you’d let me help more. I could make food or help with the flowers.”

  “Nope. Got it covered. Francine and Muriel are having the time of their lives with this. They hope to launch an event service if all goes well.”

  “Good for them.” At the sound of a car engine, Mama and I both craned our necks over to the window. We both recognized the car. “Damn.”

  Mama hurried to throw the door open with me trailing behind. “Look who’s here! My favorite detective. The one who threw me in the slammer not long back.”

  Burly as a bear, Britt Radcliff marched in. He blushed and fumbled with the folder in his hand. “Sorry about that, Dee. I have to follow the evidence.” He glanced over at me. “You got a minute to speak privately?”

  I drew in a cautious breath. The pressure in my sinuses increased. “Sure. Come on back to my office.”

  I angled over to the seating area around a small table and gestured toward a chair. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  He nodded. “I could use a cup.”

  “I’ll get it,” Mama volunteered.

  Suspicion crept in my head. What was she doing?

  Moments later, she returned with a tray of three steaming cups of coffee. She dealt them out and plopped down in a chair.

  I gave her a pointed stare, the one that said I meant business. “Mama?”

  “Whatever he has to say to you, he can say to me. We have no secrets in this family.”

  I rubbed my pounding head. “You are the queen of secrets, so don’t give me that. Britt asked to speak with me privately. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “I’m not leaving. No telling what he’s got in that folder of his, Mr. I’m-following-the-evidence. Who’s to say he doesn’t have a fast-food receipt that indicates we’re both serial killers? Nope. I’m staying right here because Sampsons stick together.”

  I glanced at Britt. “Sorry. You know my mom. If you’d like to reschedule, I could meet you elsewhere in private.”

  Britt’s steely gray gaze passed from me to Mama and back. Silence crackled in my ears like static on a radio. What was in that folder? I wanted to rip it out of his hands. But I also wanted him to pick it up and walk away. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good news.

  I sipped my coffee, willing the steam from the cup to work magic on my headache, wondering if I’d look back on this instant later as the moment before the storm. Would everything after this point in time be forever altered?

  Britt opened his folder and withdrew a picture. He placed the photo in front of me. I glanced down, seeing the strawberry blond hair, the freckled skin, and molten chocolate eyes. It was a little girl. An adorable little girl sitting on a swing, laughing. Behind her was the landmark bell tower of Baker Park in Frederick.

  “Recognize her?” Britt asked.

  “She’s cute as a button,” I said. “I don’t know her. Should I?”

  “Look closer,” he urged.

  I picked the picture up and studied it. “There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t place it. She’s what, four or five?”

  “Five.”

  “For goodness sakes, don’t hog the picture,” Mama said as she reached over. The color drained from her face. “I thought Rafe didn’t have any kids.”

  “Rafe?” I snatched the picture back. Now that Mama had pointed out the resemblance, I saw it. The hair color, the freckles, the eyes. Oh, God, she had his eyes.

  My heart galloped wil
dly. “This girl is Rafe’s daughter? I don’t understand.”

  Britt sat ramrod straight, his gaze honed in on my face. “Her name is Kylie. She’s Starr Jeffries’ daughter.”

  “I’ve never seen her before in my life.” Mama’s hand rested on my shoulder, and I drew strength from that human tether. “What do you know about her? Where is she?”

  “Starr’s sister, Jenny, has custody of her,” Britt said.

  “What’s this have to do with anything?”

  “Kylie’s last name is Golden. She’s five years old.”

  I did the math. Rafe said he’d dated Starr about six years ago. The pieces fell into place. Kylie Golden, five years old. An adorable child. She could be his daughter.

  Air stalled in my lungs. “Does Rafe know?”

  “You tell me. Has he ever mentioned Kylie?”

  “Never.”

  Britt reached for the picture, but I wasn’t letting it go. “I need this.”

  “That photo is evidence.”

  “That photo is a time bomb, and you know it. You can’t flash it around showing it to people, letting them think the worst of Rafe. Get him over here. Show him the picture. Give him a chance to explain.”

  I recognized the signature growl of Rafe’s car outside.

  Britt shot me a chilling smile. “You read my mind.”

  CHAPTER 22

  * * *

  Rafe opened the door to my office without knocking. His strawberry blond hair was mussed, as if he’d forgotten to comb it. He’d thrown on a tan windbreaker over a navy polo and khaki slacks. He stormed through the reception area and marched to where I stood. “You all right?”

  I nodded, reaching for his hand. When he leaned in for a kiss, I whispered softly, “I didn’t know anything about this.”

  He squeezed my hand. Together we faced the law.

  “What’s this about?’ ” Rafe asked Britt. “Why did you summon me here?”

  “I have questions for you. Questions you need to answer honestly. Since you’re dating Cleo and I think highly of her, I wanted her present when we talked.”

  “Is my integrity in question?”

  “Your everything is in question,” Britt said. “What was your relationship with Starr Jeffries?”

  “She was a friend of mine.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  Rafe’s face darkened, and he jerked reflexively. “A long time ago. What does that have to do with anything?”

  My fingers tightened around his, offering a port of calm in the storm. I edged closer to him, needing to offer him more. That little girl was precious, so clearly a Golden. Britt believed the worst of Rafe, but I wanted to believe the best. In all my dealings with him, he’d been fair and honest.

  Britt pulled the picture out of his folder. “It has to do with this.”

  Rafe stared at the photo as if it were the eighth wonder of the world. He reached for it, holding it in his other hand, studying the picture. “Who is this? Wait. Are you telling me this is Starr’s kid?”

  “I am.” Britt’s gaze narrowed. “Is she yours?”

  “No. She can’t be mine. I always used protection with Starr, and we weren’t together that long. She . . .” He paused momentarily. “She was seeing someone else at the same time. Once I learned that, I broke it off with her.”

  “This child resembles you. You had an intimate relationship with the mother. The evidence seems straightforward. You had a kid with Starr.”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of a child. Starr never mentioned her to me, not once. I never saw a child or any toys when I visited Starr.”

  “And yet you were in monthly contact for these last two years. Before you deny it, let me assure you we’ve pulled your phone records. We also know there are deposits to Ms. Jeffries’ bank account that correspond with your visits.”

  “She couldn’t get ahead of her bills. I helped her out. She told me she was taking courses at the college and that she was training to be a nursing assistant.”

  Britt stared at Rafe with a feral intensity. “There were no payments to any college in her banking records.”

  “I don’t understand. I tried to help a friend who was down on her luck, and for that you think I killed her?”

  “She kept asking you for more money, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It wouldn’t have stopped. She wouldn’t stop bleeding you for cash until you had nothing left. Was she blackmailing you?”

  “No, I gave her the money of my own accord.”

  “That’s not how it looks. From my standpoint, you had motive and opportunity. Now that I’ve dug into your past, I know about your gun proficiency. That brings up the means.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a killer. Starr was my friend.”

  “Let me ask her about that. Wait. I can’t. She’s dead. You killed her.”

  “No.”

  Ice in my heart, I stepped between the two men. “That’s enough, Britt. He said he didn’t do it.”

  Britt tried his withering glare on me. “They all say that. Step away from him.”

  I gave it right back to him. “I won’t. You’ve got this all wrong.”

  “I’ve got a grand slam. Means, motive, and opportunity. It doesn’t get any clearer than that in police investigations.”

  “You don’t have one shred of solid evidence. This is all circumstantial.”

  “What I have is a compelling picture, and I’m not just talking about the secret baby. Golden was seen at the victim’s lodging the night she died. His fingerprints are on the door and in the room. He grew up around guns, and he’d been a person of interest in a previous shooting death. Add to that his frequent communication with her and the routine flow of money from his account to Starr Jeffries’ account. A good prosecutor can run these facts through a jury and get a guilty verdict.”

  “Except he didn’t do it,” I insisted.

  “You can’t be objective. You’re too close to this. To him.”

  “I know how it looks. We’ve been down this road before. Rafe didn’t do it. He’s not a killer. What about Starr’s sister? She inherited Starr’s trailer and her kid. She has as much motive as Rafe, more, now that I think about it.”

  “The sister has an ironclad alibi for the murder. She didn’t do it.”

  “She could have hired someone.”

  “Now who’s grasping at straws? Step away from him.”

  “I won’t.” I hugged Rafe close. My voice trembled. “I won’t let you take him.”

  “For God’s sake, I’m taking him in for questioning, not exiling him to Mars. Let go of him, or I will arrest you for obstruction.”

  “Do it. Arrest me. I’ll sue you to the Supreme Court and back.”

  “Cleo.”

  “Don’t Cleo me. You can’t be right. I know it in my heart. I don’t care what your evidence says.” Tears flooded my eyes, breaching my self-control.

  “Easy, Red,” Rafe murmured in my hair, his hands stroking my back. “I appreciate your support, but I’m not worried about a few questions. Your family needs you to stay strong for them. You’ve got puppies that depend on you.”

  I tried to bring my tears under control. “Puppies? You’re bringing the puppies into this? Britt’s dragging the man I love off for questioning, and you’re thinking about puppies?”

  “Be strong. Can you do that for me?”

  “I can, but I don’t want to be strong. Can’t a girl have a nervous breakdown when she wants? Why do I have to always be the strong one? Why isn’t it my turn to fall apart?”

  “Cleo,” Britt warned again.

  Rafe kissed me lightly on the lips, wiping the tears from my face with his thumbs. With that he disentangled us and moved over to Britt.

  My heart lurched. I hugged my arms close, not wanting to believe this was happening. How many times did I have to do Britt’s job for him? Why didn’t Detective Dumb-as-Dirt trust my judgment? I gulped in another ragged breath.

&nbs
p; Britt held the door open and nodded to Rafe. “You got any parting words, Golden?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He turned to me. “Call Bud Flook. Looks like I may need his services after all.”

  CHAPTER 23

  * * *

  Not knowing if Rafe would be released or arrested, I prepared for the worst. I’d learned the bail bonding process when Mama had been arrested for murder. If needed, I had enough cash for the fee, along with tax bills showing the value of my business and my home. I would sign them over without a qualm.

  That wasn’t the hard part.

  Waiting was the real killer.

  Mama peered around a clump of officers passing through the Law Enforcement Center’s lobby. “Any sign of our fellas?”

  I slumped into the plastic chair next to her. “Not yet. I remember sitting here waiting for you for what seemed like hours.”

  “Why can’t Bud walk out the door with him?”

  “The police must be still questioning Rafe. How many times does he have to say he didn’t do it?”

  Mama tapped her foot on the tiled floor. “You think that baby is his?”

  It surprised me that she’d be more interested in the child than in my planning to sign away our house for my boyfriend. Not that I wanted to have either discussion. “The little girl looks like Rafe, but he said she isn’t his. I believe him, but the resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is.” Mama fidgeted with her pearls. “What’s taking so long? I swear I could have bought a week’s worth of groceries and three pairs of shoes by now.”

  “You’re free to take my car and head out if you like. I’ll catch a ride with Bud and Rafe.”

  “No way will you get rid of me so easily. Not with my house potentially up for grabs. I want to know what’s going on, and Bud will be all lawyerly about privileged information and won’t tell me diddly-squat. You’re going to save him, aren’t you?”

  Uh-oh. Would she lay into me about the house now? I feigned ignorance. “Save Bud? I didn’t know he was lost.”

  “Rafe. You’re saving him, right? We know Detective Hard-head has once again rushed in too quickly. You’d think he’d have learned patience by now.”