Sleuthing Women

by Lois Winston

  I took half a step back and breathed in air that wasn’t laden with male pheromones. My response had been the most honest I could give. Dang summed up how I felt.

  As in dang he stopped, dang he kissed me, dang he was a great kisser, and dang what was I going to do if he was the murderer. “It means everything.”

  Rafe’s warm chuckle resonated through every pore of my body. Masculine pride and delight gleamed in his eyes. The man was thrilled that I’d been reduced to swear words. I took another step back. It was either that or kiss the smug grin off his face, and I didn’t think either of us was ready for that. Especially not before an audience.

  An audience?

  Heat seared my cheeks as Rafe walked out the door with Mozart. I turned to see both Bitsy and Artie watching me with rapt fascination.

  “Well.” This from Bitsy.

  “It-it-it’s not what you think,” I offered in my best Elmer Fudd imitation, realizing my hair was tumbling down about my face and neck. Where was my hair clip? I scoured the floor until I found it.

  “Does Charlie know about Rafe?” Bitsy asked.

  Ruthlessly, I shoved my hair back into the clip. “Charlie doesn’t need to know. He’s married to another woman, remember?”

  “Only because you divorced him,” Bitsy reminded me.

  The door flew open and Grant, Charla, and Lexy blew in, with Mama close on their heels. Everyone talked at once and I couldn’t understand a blasted thing they were saying. In my hyperaware emotional state, I couldn’t take it. I screamed, which silenced everyone.

  Mama grabbed for her heart and staggered to the dog drool sofa. At the last minute, she noticed that the sofa didn’t look right and changed course for the wooden rocker. “My heart. My heart,” she cried.

  My own heart raced. How could I have forgotten for a moment that Mama had a delicate constitution? “I’m sorry, Mama. I shouldn’t have startled you like that. Are you all right?”

  Mama gripped the arms of the rocker and heaved in a shuddering breath. “What in the blazes is wrong with you people? First you ruin a perfectly good funeral by walking out early, then you scream at a woman with a heart condition. What’s this world coming to?”

  Mama looked suspiciously okay to me. Her color was good. Her mind was sharp. And all of her limbs seemed to be working fine, judging by the rapid pace at which she was rocking.

  I exhaled slowly. Okay. I hadn’t jeopardized Mama’s health. Time to figure out what else was wrong. “What made all of you come in here talking a mile a minute?”

  “Some man stole my dog,” Grant shouted in my ear.

  “Oh, that.” I waved off his comment. “We can explain.” I glanced at Bitsy, who’d decided to sit on the doggie drool sofa.

  “I sent the dog home with Cleo’s boyfriend,” Bitsy said. “The dogs tore things up here while we were at the funeral and I couldn’t deal with Mozart’s antics along with everything else today.”

  “What?” Grant said, his face a junior version of male befuddlement.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Grant,” Artie said. “Think about it. Mozart humped Madonna the whole time we were gone.”

  “Oh,” Grant said, the chaos of the room finally registering. “Is Mo coming back? Mo is going home with us tomorrow, right?”

  “We need to talk about some changes now that your father is gone,” Bitsy said.

  We exchanged a look and I knew that she was ready to have that talk with her sons. I shepherded Mama and my girls into the kitchen. I prayed Bitsy would tell her boys everything.

  Charla stomped into the kitchen in front of me, stopping next to the butcher-block array of knives. Molten amber shot out of her eyes.

  “Since when is the golf pro your boyfriend?” Charla demanded. In the next breath, she asked, “Does Daddy know?”

  FOURTEEN

  I’d changed my clothes three times before I found the perfect outfit for my two o’clock golf lesson. With my thick ponytail fed through the back opening of my Callaway cap and my conservative navy shorts and off-white golf Polo, I looked every bit as professional as a scratch golfer.

  No way did I look seductive or flirty like Jonette did in her two-piece hot pink ensemble with matching pink anklets. My shortie socks were white, and came up just high enough to cover the precautionary tape on my mostly mended ankle. This upcoming golf lesson could be considered my first date with Rafe, and I didn’t want anything to mess it up.

  I could control how I looked but not how I thought. I couldn’t get the questions out of my mind that I’d fielded about my ex. I didn’t care if Charlie knew about Rafe. Charlie gave up his right to have any say in my behavior long ago. So what if I’d kissed Rafe? He wasn’t really my boyfriend.

  Which wasn’t to say I hadn’t been thinking about dating him. Ever since that magical kiss, I had been thinking of what it would be like to be with Rafe. To find out if we had anything in common besides a case of mutual attraction.

  Who was I kidding? I wanted to kiss him again in the worst way, but I didn’t have any experience with men other than Charlie. I needed to take this slow so that I didn’t get in too fast or too deep.

  Caution had me put a room full of furniture between us yesterday morning when Rafe brought Bitsy’s dog back. I had hoped distance would minimize the magnetic pull he exerted, but increasing our linear distance didn’t do a bit of good.

  My entire body seemed aware of each breath Rafe took. I might as well have stood next to him for all the good distance did me. I could no more escape this magnetic attraction between us than the moon could suddenly veer out of the earth’s orbit.

  Before he left, Rafe sent me a searing glance, a veritable laser beam of desire that revved up my insides. I stood there in my kitchen and warred with my impulse to drag him upstairs and have my way with him. I congratulated myself on my self-control as he left unmolested.

  I wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t kiss me again. No, siree, I was taking it slow. That’s the way the new Cleo operated.

  Before my lesson, Jonette and I played our interrupted round of golf from last week. I whacked my drive off the number six tee. Jonette’s tee shot already lay in the center of the lush green fairway. I felt strong today, charged with energy and anticipation.

  My ball trickled to a stop a few yards short of hers. I smiled in triumph. Things were going my way for a change. “What did you do over the weekend?” I climbed into the cart and Jonette drove us down the paved cart path.

  “Nothing much. Worked. Dodged Britt Radcliff. Thought about Violet Cooper.”

  Shoot. In the flurry of getting Bitsy, her boys, and Mozart off and dressing for my lesson I forgot about interviewing Violet Cooper today. No problem. The new Cleo was flexible. “I’m headed over to see Violet after my lesson. You wanna come?”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Jonette said. “When are you going to tell me about kissing Rafe?”

  My mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  “Your Mama called me,” Jonette said with a toss of her head. “Spill it, Clee. Was it as good as you thought?”

  “Mama knows?”

  Jonette grinned. “You kissed the man in front of two witnesses. Did you expect them to keep the big kiss a secret?”

  Of course. My audience. No wonder so many people had populated my kitchen when Artie announced that Rafe had returned the dog.

  I whacked my ball again. It landed in the rough bordering the fairway. Jonette hit her second shot and it landed short of my ball, but still in the freshly mowed grass of the fairway.

  How could I distract Jonette from the big kiss? I thought of remaining mute the rest of my life, but I had too many things to say, too much unwanted advice to pass onto my children. When we got up to the green to putt, I couldn’t help gazing down at the crime scene. “What was he doing out here, Jonette?”

  She wasn’t deterred one bit. Her expertly plucked eyebrows rose in challenge. “Don’t think you can fob me off with Dudley’s murder. I want to
know about you and Rafe. It was hot, right?”

  Hot was putting it mildly and Jonette was a bloodhound when it came to these kinds of details. If I didn’t give her something, she’d dog me until I did. “You were right, Jonette. Rafe isn’t a training wheels kind of guy. I forgot everything when he kissed me, and I probably would have jumped him right then and there in the foyer if he hadn’t broken off the kiss.”

  “So, there is life after Charlie?”

  I couldn’t help but grin at that remark. No longer did I want to burrow into a hole to escape my troubles. There was a big world out there and I wanted to sample more of it. Especially Rafe Golden. “Definitely.” Two putts later I holed out and headed for number seven.

  “What’s next with Rafe?” Jonette asked.

  Next would be ripping his clothes off and letting our imaginations run wild. After stewing in my own lust for twenty-four hours, I was ready to abandon my taking it slow plan. This was a new day, a new me. I wasn’t going to let the world pass me by. “I have a golf lesson with him after we finish up here.”

  Jonette whistled appreciatively. “Man, I’d pay good money to watch that lesson. You wouldn’t even know I was there.”

  I would just as soon my lesson with Rafe be private, but the location of the lesson area was highly visible. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have Jonette nearby.

  If I did something mortifying, Jonette would step in and rescue me. “I don’t mind if you watch. I hope I’m not indulging in a foolish fantasy with Rafe.”

  Jonette’s assessing gaze flickered over me. “You’re no fool, Cleo. If Rafe Golden doesn’t realize what a gem you are, then you’re better off without him.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jonette was right. If Rafe didn’t appreciate me, he certainly wasn’t any great catch, and I would be better off learning that before things went any farther.

  When we finished our round, Jonette took our completed scorecard into the pro shop. I drove the cart over to the driving range where the pro held all of his lessons.

  Since my chip shots were inconsistent, I hoped Rafe would work with me on my short game. Not that other areas weren’t in dire straits also, but chipping was a good place to start.

  As I rounded the seven-foot-high ligustrum hedge, the first thing I saw was Christine Strand glued to Rafe. Steam shot out of my ears as I realized they were kissing. Hot tears seared my eyes.

  I saw red and smashed the accelerator to the floor. I wanted to hurt Rafe for hurting me.

  Running him over with a golf cart seemed a just punishment in my book. Only, my jingling clubs warned of my not so stealthy approach, and Rafe’s head shot up. His wounded gaze caught mine. How dare he look so hurt? I was the one who ached inside.

  I should never have gone with my hormones in making the decision to believe Rafe’s interest in me was sincere. I’d had it right when I thought he might be the killer. He’d certainly killed my hopes of trusting a man again.

  How could he kiss us both in the same week? He deserved to be run over. Multiple times.

  I bore down on Rafe, knowing that the time to stop was passing. Rafe shoved Christine out of the way.

  He wasn’t going to move. He wanted me to hit him? This man was crazy. If I killed him, I would go to jail and never see my girls again. No man was worth that.

  I slammed on brakes and just barely nudged him with the cart. Good thing I had my dark glasses on. He couldn’t see how close to tears I was. With my self-control shot, all that remained was my cloak of threadbare dignity. “Forget the golf lesson. I won’t be rescheduling.”

  “I can explain,” Rafe growled, his hands on his hips.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I said, but that was a lie. I wanted to know why he’d kissed me. I wanted to know why it mattered so much that I’d seen him kissing Christine. I ground my teeth together in frustration.

  Rafe grabbed the cart steering wheel and slid in the driver’s seat like he was going to drive my cart. My choices were to get squashed or to move out of his way. Ever the pragmatist, I moved over, making certain there was a wide gulf of space between us on the seat.

  “Don’t be mad,” he said.

  I wouldn’t look at him. “Being mad would imply I cared.”

  “You do. And you and I both know it. Cleo, she kissed me.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “That kiss was a mistake.”

  “It certainly was.”

  I gasped. I was, of course, referring to the wonderful, earthshaking kiss we’d shared on Saturday.

  Rafe swore again under his breath. “The kiss today was a mistake. I didn’t participate at all. She threw herself at me.”

  I didn’t have to listen to this. “Stop the cart and let me out. You’ve got your lesson with Christine to finish.”

  He ignored my request. “I promise I won’t ever have another lesson with her if that will make you happy.”

  I exhaled sharply. “Happy? Do you know what would make me happy? I would be happy if I ran you over with this golf cart. That would make me happy.”

  His brown eyes blazed. “But you didn’t. Run me over.”

  He had me there. He had been in my sights, but I lost my nerve. Truth was, I couldn’t bear to hurt a fly. Not even a two-timing fly. As thrilling as kissing Rafe had been, I wasn’t about to waste one day of my life on a worthless cheat.

  Life was just too short. “Let’s forget these last few days ever happened, okay? Chalk it up to temporary insanity.”

  “Insanity? That’s what you’re calling this thing between us?”

  His voice was dangerously soft. I shivered in spite of the eighty-degree temperature. I didn’t want to get in a discussion of “us” when there was no us. I nodded. “Insanity. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.”

  Rafe threw back his head and laughed. “I like you, Cleopatra Jones. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

  How did you deal with a crazy person? Other than my family, I hadn’t run into too many of them. Should I try to placate him or get as far away from him as possible? I decided on the haul ass strategy. “My car’s over there.”

  His lips quirked. “I know where your car is. I know how many miles are on it. I know your air conditioner is shot. I know the transmission sticks as you accelerate. I drove your car, remember?”

  “You can’t hold that against me.” I waved off his comments. “You volunteered to drive the Gray Beast.”

  “Your car has a name?”

  “That car is my nemesis,” I said. “It’ll run long after all the other cars in the world stop. It’s like that annoying bunny on TV. Daddy bought that car for me to learn to drive on because it was so safe. It’s been a member of our family ever since, even if it is butt ugly.”

  “I like that you drive a safe car.”

  Dang. He was sounding nice again. I liked him better when he was acting crazy. How could I put him in a box and deal with him if he kept changing personalities on me?

  He stopped next to my car, took the car keys from my hand, and deposited my clubs in the trunk. Jonette walked over to claim her clubs. “What happened to the hot golf lesson?”

  My face turned beet red. Jonette colored in return as her words filtered into her brain. “It’s awful hot out here today, isn’t it?” she said to cover the telling silence.

  Rafe handed me my keys, but he didn’t let go of them. A startling electric current flashed between us. He waited until he saw the spark of acknowledgement in my eyes before he said a word. “Since it’s my fault we have to reschedule, your make-up lesson will be complimentary.”

  I wasn’t planning on rescheduling, ever. He’d just have to give that complimentary lesson to another woman. That’s what I thought, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. I did not want to get into a heated discussion with him in front of Jonette.

  Rafe held on to the keys for a moment longer, then he gave my hand a warm squeeze and drove off in the cart.

  Jonette fanned herself. “We’re lucky your gas
cap is on tight. There were enough sparks out here to blow up this entire parking lot.”

  I gestured towards the passenger door. “Get in.”

  Jonette groaned. “What now? I swear your life is a soap opera, Cleo. Why can’t you have a private affair like everyone else? Why do you have to conduct a torrid romance in the golf club parking lot?”

  I glared at her over the top of my sunglasses. “Hush, Jonette. I’m invoking the hour of need clause in our relationship. Get in.”

  “Oh, all right,” Jonette grumbled, tossing her clubs in my backseat. “But only if you tell me what happened.”

  “After we get out of here.” I headed west on the highway towards the mountain road.

  “You want to know what happened?” I said when I felt capable of speaking without swearing. “I’ll tell you. Christine happened. She was all over Rafe like melted butter and he wasn’t resisting until he saw me. I lost my cool and tried to run him over with the golf cart.”

  “Good for you.” Jonette clapped her hands in delight. “Did you hit him?”

  Remembering my cowardice, I grimaced. “Barely. I lost my nerve at the last minute. Jonette, why do I attract losers? Why can’t I find someone who’s faithful? Rafe saw me coming, pushed Christine out of the way and just stood there. He dared me to hit him. The man’s a lunatic.”

  Jonette laughed and laughed. “He’s perfect,” she said when she could speak again.

  I signaled a right turn. “Of course he’s perfect. He’s also a cheater. And we haven’t even had a real date. All we’ve had so far is some chemistry and a kiss.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it.” Jonette wiped the tears of laughter from her cheeks. “Most women would kill for that much.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not most women. I want a man who’ll do as he’s told, who’ll come when he’s called, and who only sleeps in my bed.”

  Jonette started laughing again. “Sounds like you want a dog.”

  “Nothing wrong with a well-trained dog.”

  I laughed at the image of Rafe on a leash. My instincts told me it would be exceedingly dangerous to tie that man close to me. He’d have me in bed in two seconds flat, but, on the bright side, I’d finally have some relief from the sexual tension that sparked between us.