by Pamela Tracy
“Alleged death,” Katie interrupted. “There’s still no body, and she’s listed as a runaway.”
“—and Patricia Reynolds’s death.”
“So, no matter what,” Janie acknowledged, “somebody loses.”
“We’re not losing anybody else,” Rafe said. “Running to South Africa is a short-term flight from a long-term problem. Everybody would have to move, otherwise, you would never get to visit your new niece or nephew, or—”
For a moment, Janie thought he might say, “me.” Instead, he continued. “We’re beefing up security around Janie. I’m putting my best man on it.”
“Every officer you have already believes I’m their personal drive-by,” Janie said. “I can’t turn around without seeing Candy or Jeff—”
“You’re on a first-name basis with them now?”
“Have been for weeks.”
“Until we find out who pushed you, you’ll only be dealing with me.”
“And me,” Luke added.
Rafe didn’t look convinced her brother-in-law was up for the task.
“Hey,” Luke protested, “if I can shoot a hippopotamus in the ass to sedate him, I can shoot an intruder if one tries to get near my favorite sister-in-law.”
“Only sister-in-law,” Janie reminded him.
Katie stared at her husband in awe. “I like it when you go all macho.”
“What do you have planned tomorrow?” Rafe asked. “Where should I focus my efforts?”
“I’ll be here all day, painting, probably. I can’t teach injured like this.”
The four of them huddled around the table going over the schedule for the coming week and making sure that at no time was Janie left unguarded and alone.
“You got plans Saturday night?” Rafe asked.
“No.”
“You do now. We’re going to the Police Officers’ Awards Banquet. Almost all of the law-enforcement officers in the area will be there, including the ones who should be driving by here every hour. You’ll go with me. There’s no safer place for you.”
Janie wasn’t sure she would describe a night with Rafe as safe.
* * *
JANIE COULDN’T REMEMBER ever feeling this nervous before a date. But, then, this wasn’t a date. This was a bodyguard getting stuck with an assignment on a Saturday night.
She’d feel even more nervous if she’d had a spare minute to worry. As it was, after last Tuesday’s question-and-answer session, she’d gotten used to having Rafe around, practically 24/7. The only time she was sure he wasn’t around was at night, when Luke took over. Jasper, who’d worked for her father and now was a keeper for Luke, took to spending the night in the living room, even though Janie had insisted he should be with his new bride, Ruth.
Janie had spent the last four days feeling bruised and scared, but determined to go on with her life, including going on nondates. Plus, Janie had never been one to stay home.
Still, she wasn’t sure what to wear to a police officers’ awards banquet. She settled on a gauzy dark green skirt and white cotton blouse with a silky green sweater. But Katie took one look at her and turned white. If not for the bruised arm and accompanying pain meds, Janie never would have allowed Katie to be included in any how-should-I-dress dilemma. But Katie knew when she had a pliable client, and managed to convince Janie to wear something more “dateworthy.”
Instead of his Jeep, Rafe showed up in a pale blue rebuilt Mustang. And instead of his everyday uniform, at least the one she’d always seen him in, he was in dress blues, complete with spit-shined shoes, a gold name tag and numerous badges.
Judging by his reaction to her appearance, Janie was glad she’d listened to her sister.
In Scorpion Ridge, almost everything was ten minutes away. From Katie’s house, the Scorpion Ridge Community Hall was a mere nine minutes away. No place had never looked so safe to Janie. Every fifth vehicle was a squad car. Tonight’s event involved all of Rafe’s counties, from Scorpion Ridge to Adobe Hills to Gesippi. A police officer, acting as a valet, directed Rafe to a prime parking spot.
“One of the perks,” Rafe said.
Janie smiled. She’d always liked dressing up, but her version of dressing up meant a gauzy skirt and simple white blouse. Not appropriate, apparently, for the twentieth annual Police Officers’ Awards Banquet.
Instead, she was adorned in a fire-engine-red, midcalf silk dress, complete with a cute little white clutch purse and sensible white flats—women on pain meds should not wear heels. Janie definitely felt like a somewhat broken but extremely happy princess.
Rafe was definitely prince material.
He came around the car and opened the door. Janie stepped out to a chorus of wolf whistles and “Hey, boss, where you been hiding her?”
“I guess they don’t care about the black eye,” Janie whispered.
“You have a black eye?” Rafe teased, leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on the evidence of her fall. “I didn’t notice.”
She reached up, touched where he’d just kissed, and started to lean toward him, wanting another kiss—and not on her eye! But he was already walking toward the entrance, his whole demeanor purposeful.
Rafael Salazar was on duty.
Whoever sponsored the event had gone all out. Instead of arrows pointing the way to the event, nightsticks did. At the entrance, each door was made to resemble a giant police badge. In the middle of the white tablecloths were target practice sheets. The centerpieces were gorgeous flowers with yellow cordon-tape bows.
It was grander than the art exhibit they’d gone to together just over a week ago. “I take it you weren’t in charge of decor?” Janie said as Rafe guided her to a table up front and center.
“No, that would be the wife of the sheriff who held office before my father. She also happens to be the mayor’s twin sister. Not someone you want to mess with. This is her baby. She started the banquet back in the 1990s when Darryl was just starting to think about retiring and every year it’s the highlight of her life. Last year we even had a theme.” He pulled out a chair. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Whatever you get is fine with me.”
Rafe disappeared into a sea of boisterous men and women. Some were in dress uniform, some in street uniform, some in dress-up and others in dress-down. All greeted Rafe as if he were the most important person in the room. The guys looked back at Janie with open admiration, despite the bruises. The women couldn’t conceal their curiosity.
Before Janie could decide which bothered her more, an older gentleman appeared at the table, pulling out a chair for his companion. Displaying graying temples and a military stance, he wore a top-brass uniform and still managed to seem underdressed. There was nothing gray about his wife. With shock-white, upswept hair and a regal pose, she would have fit in better on a magazine cover instead of at a small-town policemen’s banquet. Before introductions could be made, the gentleman did the “What can I get you to drink?” bit and disappeared.
Lipstick the exact color of Janie’s dress and sparkling blue eyes turned to peruse Janie. “About time Rafe brought somebody interesting to these outings.”
Janie laughed.
“I’m Mitzy Webber. That was my husband Darryl. He was sheriff long before Rafe or Rafe’s father. And you are...?”
“I’m Janie Vincent.”
“Ah, Katie’s sister.” Mitzy glanced around, spotted Katie, and waved. “We love, love, love your sister. I’ve never seen a woman who can walk among lions so effortlessly. Oh, and what she’s done for the Rittenhouse boy.”
Janie nodded, almost afraid of what Mitzy might say next, especially if she was willing to call Luke a boy.
“The Rittenhouse men have always been attractive. Why, if I were thirty years younger...”
Janie let loose the breath s
he was holding.
Mitzy didn’t seem to need any help carrying on a conversation. She continued, “Rafe’s a confirmed bachelor, but I’ve always said confirmed is just confused. So, tell me, did Rafe’s mother fix you up? She’s been dying for—”
“No,” Rafe said, setting a drink in front of Janie. “My mother did not set us up. Janie’s part of an investigation, and since we were working on the case today and might even get a few things done tonight after the banquet, it made sense to combine business with pleasure.”
That made her pause for a second, but one thing Mitzy Webber couldn’t seem to stand was white space. After a moment, she launched into the story of how she and Darryl met. Janie could tell by the expression on Rafe’s face that he’d already heard the tale. Since he was politely listening, though, he couldn’t see how conflicted she was.
Was she more business? Or more pleasure?
It bothered her that it bothered her.
And, if she was completely honest, she was hoping he put her more in the “pleasure” category.
“And,” Mitzy finished, “we’ve been married for fifty-three years!”
Before Mitzy could continue, Rafe interrupted. “You have a sister over in Adobe Hills, don’t you?”
“I do.” Mitzy practically glowed. “I’m surprised you remember.”
“There’s a family there,” Rafe said, “who could really use a friend. The Chaneys. The memorial for their son Derek is this Monday.”
Janie glanced up. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the story,” Mitzy said. “I’ve heard of Derek.” Looking at Janie, Mitzy’s expression changed. “That’s who you are. You’re the teacher who turned in Derek’s journal.”
“Art book,” Janie corrected. Then, to Rafe, she asked, “Are we going to the funeral?”
“Yes.”
Mitzy nodded, “I’ll call my sister tomorrow morning. I’m sure her Thursday-morning Bible-study group will take Derek’s mother under their wing. She’ll get her husband to work on Derek’s father.”
“There’s another son, too.”
Mitzy was already opening her purse, taking out a small calendar and writing in it. Before Rafe could say anything else, a few officers stopped by the table to talk shop. They all gave Janie the once-over, but apparently being with Rafe gave her hands-off status.
Then someone blew a whistle and the evening officially commenced. The meet-and-greet segment of the evening was over. One last couple joined their table. The gentleman settled his wife and headed for the stage. Scorpion Ridge’s mayor, who looked quite a bit like his sister except for the glitter and lipstick, took the mic and welcomed everyone. After a short speech, he finished with a big thank-you to his sister for starting this honored tradition.
Then Rafe took the stage.
He didn’t do the “thanks” song and dance. He addressed his speech to the citizens of Laramie County, emphasizing the importance of building positive relationships—more than one cop glanced her way when Rafe said that—and upholding positive values. He managed to make what should have been a “same old, same old” speech not only interesting, but also humorous.
His task done, the buffet line opened, and after a moment Janie was left alone with Mitzy as the whole table went to fill their plates.
Janie’d fully intended to get her own plate filled, but Rafe just looked at her and shook his head. She was still stiff, yes, but she wasn’t helpless.
“Oh, let him take care of you,” Mitzy said. “He’s the sheriff. Filling your plate is definitely a step in his building-a-positive-relationship theory.”
“Is that why your husband is filling yours?” Janie asked.
“No, he’s filling mine so I can find out all the gossip about you and then fill him in about it when we get home.”
“No gossip about me,” Janie said. “I’m the boring Vincent sister.”
Mitzy laughed. “That’s not what I heard. So, you’re the one who helped little Amanda Skinley draw a suspect, too?”
Janie scanned the room for Rafe. Just how freely could she discuss the case?
“My husband still knows everything that goes on in Adobe Hills when it comes to criminal activity,” Mitzy explained.
After three or four futile searches for Rafe in the buffet line, Janie gave up her hope that he would rescue her and changed the subject from Brittney’s case to herself.
Janie Vincent: the sister who hadn’t found her niche yet.
She was interrupted, but not by Rafe.
“Janie? I’m surprised to run into you here.”
Nathan Williamson was dressed much like Rafe, right down to the spit-shined shoes and gold name tag. It was the first time Janie had seen him all dressed up. He was the same height as Rafe and had the same thick hair. But the similarity ended there. Nathan’s chin wasn’t nearly as strong and his eyes weren’t the same deep shade of brown-bordering-on-black.
Mitzy grinned. “Nathan? I wasn’t aware you’d met Janie.” She reached over to pat Janie on the hand. “My, my, you do know all the single men.”
Janie, rarely at a loss for words, could only stammer. “We’re...”
“Working a case together,” Nathan finished.
Mitzy didn’t look convinced.
Janie smiled weakly.
“You’re here with Rafe?” By his tone, Nathan was surprised.
“Yes, he’s making sure I stay out of trouble.”
“Hmm.”
Janie tried to interpret his hmm, but the attempt only took her mind back to wondering if she was business or pleasure. She wasn’t feeling much like business at the moment, but she wasn’t sure if her psyche could take the idea of becoming involved with a cop. Yet, so far, this evening had been one more reminder of why Janie should give officers more of a chance: it had been a night of camaraderie and fun.
Someone shouted from the back of the room. Nathan excused himself and ambled toward the commotion.
“He’s a good cop,” Mitzy said.
High praise, but Janie was still wary of the detective. There was just something about the way Nathan had acted early on in the investigation.
“My sister lives in Adobe Hills,” Mitzy continued, “and her husband is a detective on the force. Sometimes his cases cross over to the DEA or into Nathan’s authority. We go to my sister’s for dinner about every other week. Nathan often joins us. Apparently their issues with the drug trade have escalated in the last five years, especially meth.”
Janie searched again for Rafe. He should be hearing this. But maybe he already knew.
“Nathan’s responsible for keeping more dealers off the streets than anyone else,” Mitzy continued.
More likely Justin was responsible, but Justin couldn’t take the credit, because he was undercover.
Mitzy wasn’t finished. “I just wish Nathan would find somebody. He’s never gotten over his divorce. Foolish woman. Imagine being loved that much and throwing it away.”
Janie looked over at Nathan. He was standing at the rear of the buffet line, alone, the only Robinson Crusoe in the room. It was hard to imagine this man cozying up to a relationship.
Mitzy followed Janie’s gaze. “He worshipped her. I remember thinking how lucky she was. How lucky I am.” As if proving her point, her husband arrived and handed her a full plate and kissed the top of her head before taking off again. A server stopped at their table to refill their iced tea.
“Was it a nasty divorce?” Janie asked.
“I don’t know all the details, but his young wife got addicted to drugs and wasn’t willing to stop using. I guess Nathan tried interventions, sent her to rehab, everything. One day, she just packed up and left. He was devastated.”
The buffet line moved forward, Nathan with it. Maybe, Ja
nie wondered, his uptight stance and the rigid set of his shoulders had more to do with pain than with misplaced pride.
She pitied him, though he probably wouldn’t appreciate the emotion.
Like Rafe, he appeared to be a man who garnered respect from everyone he met.
Not that respect, or rank, was helping either Nathan or Rafe earn front-of-the-line privileges at this event. Parking was one thing, food another. Grinning like the cat who ate the canary, Rafe returned, setting a serving of lasagna, garlic bread and salad in front of her and then scanning the crowd to find what had her attention.
It didn’t take him long to figure it out. “Nathan? What’s Nathan doing here?”
As if sensing he was being scrutinized, Nathan turned and looked first at Janie and finally at Rafe.
“He was surprised to see me here,” Janie said.
“I’m surprised to see him here.” Rafe didn’t sound pleased. “He’s received more than one outreach award from us, but he’s never bothered to—”
Mitzy cleared her throat, loudly.
“Not that he’s receiving one tonight,” Rafe supplied smoothly.
“Maybe,” Mitzy said, “it’s not the prospect of an award that got him out of Adobe Hills.” She smiled pointedly in Janie’s direction.
Now, instead of a canary, Rafe looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.
Janie’s appetite returned. Nathan was not her type, but watching Rafe’s hackles rise was the best thing that had happened all night.
“This lasagna’s great,” she said after four bites.
“It’s from a restaurant in town,” Rafe said, “called Yano’s. I’ll take you there some night.”
Mitzy shot her a sly glance. Definitely pleasure, not business.
And then Rafe added quietly so no one else could hear, “Brittney worked as a hostess there during the summer. She made it clear to another employee that she was single—which means she and Derek were definitely not a couple.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WHILE JANIE’S MOUTH opened to a silent, lingering “Oooh,” Rafe downed three bites of lasagna quickly. He’d learned, at these functions, not to attempt leisure. Other officers seemed to feel that they had to stop by, shake hands with the sheriff, make small talk. And that meant too often he’d either eaten cold food, or simply pushed the plate away and didn’t get to eat at all.