Despite her condition, she seemed to be holding up well to the stress of the latest “gift” from the stalker. Despite Duncan’s not-so-subtle attempts to put her in her place, Rhianna looked ready to confront her former boyfriend. Her green eyes looked as calm as a still pool, her face fresh as spring air.
Upon seeing Duncan and Rhianna together again, Rafe knew at once that Duncan was not the man for Rhianna. She was sunlight and warmth to his high-tech ice. Duncan’s house wasn’t a home but a statement to the world that the man inside had arrived. The idea of a child playing in this office with its expensive knickknacks within easy reach and dead animals staring down with glassy-eyed sorrow was ludicrous.
Rhianna would have regretted it if she’d accepted Duncan’s proposal. But had Duncan seen the breakup the same way? Obviously the man was accustomed to winning. Rafe suspected her refusal had hurt Duncan’s pride much more than his heart—but enough to stalk her?
Rhianna sat on the edge of a chair as if she didn’t want to become too comfortable. “I need to ask you about the ring you bought for me.”
Duncan reached into his cigar box and frowned. “I don’t see how that’s your concern now.”
“Would you please not light that cigar?” she requested politely, refusing to be drawn into Duncan’s game of petty innuendos.
“You never minded before.”
Rafe remained silent, letting Rhianna speak. He’d always admired a woman who stood up for herself, and hoped Rhianna would pass that magnificent trait on to their child.
“The smoke’s not good for the baby,” Rhianna explained, her tone calm. But Rafe could see a flash of temper in her eyes.
Duncan reached for his lighter, obviously not caring about the baby’s health. “It’s my office.”
“Fine. Just don’t complain if I vomit all over your Oriental rug, okay?”
In response, Duncan tossed the lighter onto the desk and clamped his still unlit cigar between his teeth. Rafe bit his tongue to keep from laughing outright. Rhianna was clearly way too much woman for Duncan Phillips.
“Duncan, could I look at the ring you bought for me?” Rhianna asked, her voice sweet as summer.
Rafe realized how smart she was by not admitting that they already knew Duncan hadn’t returned the ring. He settled back in his chair, watching Duncan carefully, still content to let Rhianna ask the questions.
Duncan maintained a poker face. His eyes gave away nothing. “Why do you want to see the ring?”
“Someone sent me a jewelry box from Biddle and Baines—only instead of a ring, the box held ashes.”
Duncan glared at her. “You think I sent you a box with ashes in it?”
“Of course not. I just want to discount you as a suspect—” she waved her hand as if shooing away an insignificant fly “—for the police report I have to fill out.”
“Police report?”
“Senator Sutton has taken an interest,” Rhianna stated, “and insists we fill out the paperwork correctly, just in case reporters sniff out the story.”
Duncan’s eyes widened with horror. “The senator? Reporters? I don’t want my name attached to your sordid—”
“Fine. Can I see the ring?”
Duncan tapped his cigar on his desk. “When you refused my proposal, I returned the ring.”
Rafe thought it time to remind Duncan that Rhianna wasn’t alone in the room. “Don’t lie to her. We know you didn’t return it.”
Duncan didn’t appear particularly upset that they’d caught him in an outright lie. Instead, he looked longingly at the lighter, then decisively placed the cigar back in the box, rose and poured himself a drink. “I was hoping Rhianna would change her mind and agree to be my wife.”
“So you do still have the ring,” Rhianna said excitedly. “Where is it?”
Duncan shook his head. “I’m afraid not. When you refused my offer, I was upset. I crushed the box and threw it away.”
“You threw away that expensive—”
“Oh, I still have the ring. I just tossed the box.”
Crushed it and threw it away. The man sounded sincere, but a minute ago he’d lied to them. He might have just been embarrassed to admit that he’d hoped she’d change her mind about his marriage proposal. Returning the ring was the equivalent of ending his hopes. Rafe could understand how he’d hang on to it, how he wouldn’t want to admit to failure. But now Duncan offered such a flimsy excuse for throwing away the box that Rafe had to consider him their number one suspect.
“Did anyone see you crush the box?” Rhianna asked. “Maybe a maid?”
Duncan shook his head. “I still don’t understand what all the fuss is about. So what if someone sent you a box of ashes? Why are the police and the senator interested?”
“Someone is stalking Rhianna. And when we prove who that person is, he’ll go to jail.”
“If anyone should go to jail, it’s her.” Duncan slapped his drink on the desk, and the liquor sloshed over the side. “She’s the one who stole my prize stallion’s sperm.”
Rhianna pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t say a word to refute Duncan’s accusation, didn’t dignify his statement with a reply. “It’s time to leave.”
RHIANNA YAWNED AS SHE and Rafe drove to Judge Stuart’s courtroom. She couldn’t decide whether Duncan was lying about the jewelry box or not. It still seemed odd to her that three people at her father’s party had bought rings from Biddle and Baines. But the horse set was rich, and the store famous for its innovative designs.
Rhianna realized rich people tended to shop in the same stores. But that didn’t mean the wealthy were alike in character or temperament.
When she’d seen Rafe Sutton and Duncan Phillips together today, she’d known she’d made the correct decision to reject Duncan’s proposal. Duncan just didn’t stir her blood. With Rafe, she noticed the lift of his brow, the tilt of his head, sensed his moods without effort. He merely needed to share the same air she breathed, and her senses instantly focused on him.
And that made accepting his help all the harder. Every time Rafe showed her consideration, every time they shared a look, a thought, a car ride, she had to remind herself he didn’t want her.
Rafe was here for one reason. To protect the child they’d created together. And every time she remembered, she became angry with him all over again.
She didn’t want his friendly hand massaging her neck. She didn’t want him to buy her clothes. She didn’t want to go live in his house, on his ranch, on Sutton land. But how could she live with him and silence her feelings?
She couldn’t disassociate herself from her feelings that easily, and wanted to protect herself from the pain of another rejection. She refused to even consider that this time Rafe might realize what he hadn’t before—that they were good together. She wouldn’t make the mistake of building up her hopes again only to have them dashed in disappointment.
Rafe was Rafe. Either he wouldn’t change or he couldn’t.
Just thinking about her predicament made Rhianna tired and thoroughly overstressed. She napped, and opened her eyes again just as Rafe parked in front of the courthouse. Within minutes they’d passed the metal detectors and security guard.
Judge Stuart’s secretary ushered them straight into his chambers. His distinguished suit helped counter the effect of thinning hair slicked in a comb-over to hide his balding head. At their entrance, the judge removed his feet from his desk, but Rhianna caught a glimpse of a gun strapped to his ankle.
“Death threats,” the judge explained to Rhianna as he shook Rafe’s hand. “Every case has a winner and a loser. The losers often threaten to come back and…Where are my manners? Please have a seat. Can I get you anything? A cola? Water?”
Rhianna settled into an overstuffed leather chair. “Thanks, I’m fine.”
The judge looked from Rafe to Rhianna with a warm smile. “You’ve come to ask me to perform another Sutton wedding?”
Rhianna had heard that the judge had married on
e of Rafe’s brothers. The judge and the senator went way back—and the judge obviously felt familiar enough with Rafe to place him on the spot. Rhianna turned to Rafe, wondering if he would squirm at the question. She should have known better.
Rafe shook his head. “I’m afraid another happy occasion will have to wait. Rhianna’s being stalked.”
“If one of my ex-cons is violating parole, I’ll be happy to lock him up.”
Rhianna couldn’t blame the judge for leaping to such a conclusion. She supposed he’d placed many people behind bars. Still, he seemed so gleeful about his job.
“Actually, we don’t know the stalker’s identity,” Rafe explained.
The judge turned up his palms. “Then how can I help?”
Rhianna leaned forward and tried to read the man’s eyes. “We need to ask you about a ring you bought at Biddle and Baines, your honor.”
She saw nothing but confusion on his face. “What does an anniversary present for my wife have to do with your problem?”
“The stalker sent Rhianna a ring box filled with ashes. The manager at Biddle and Baines was kind enough to show us a customer list, and we’re speaking to everyone on that list Rhianna knows.”
The judge nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Would your wife still have the ring box?” Rafe asked with just the right amount of respect and concern.
Judge Stuart shrugged. “You can ask her if you like—she’s not talking to me. We divorced last year.” He smiled bitterly. “She kept the house, the ring and the stock portfolio.”
“I’m sorry,” Rhianna said softly.
The judge locked eyes with Rafe. “When Karen picked me over your father, I thought our marriage would last forever.”
Rafe scratched his chin and looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“Back in the good old days, Highview had two rival high school football teams. Your dad played quarterback and defeated us for the chance to go to the state championship. That set the pattern, I suppose,” the judge said philosophically. “I ran and lost against your father for sheriff and mayor, then for a senate seat. But I always figured I was the lucky man. I had Karen.” He wrote an address on a piece of paper. “Excuse me. No need for you to listen to an old man go on and on about the past. I’m not usually so maudlin. Here’s Karen’s new address and phone number. She’s remarried, to a plastic surgeon.”
MS. KAREN PRESCOTT answered her phone and invited them to come by after dinner. Rhianna had wished Rafe could just ask her about the box over the phone. All this driving around and talking took a toll on her energy level. Yet she knew she needed to see that jewelry box with her own eyes.
Rafe parked in the four-car driveway between a Rolls Royce and a Viper. Ms. Prescott answered the door, but if she hadn’t introduced herself, Rhianna wouldn’t have believed she’d been married to the judge for thirty years. She didn’t look a day over twenty-nine. Her platinum hair glistened, a soft halo of light. Her creamy skin didn’t have a wrinkle…or a laugh line.
Next to the glamorous Ms. Prescott, Rhianna felt as fat as a house. The woman thrust a white velvet box into Rafe’s hand before he had a chance to say hello. “This what you wanted to see? I’m sorry to hurry you, but we’re on the way to a charity event where my husband is the guest of honor.”
“This is the box that came with the anniversary ring your ex-husband purchased for you?” Rafe asked.
“The judge had many faults, but, stinginess wasn’t one of them. He also bought me a bracelet and earrings to match the ring. Of course, they came in different shaped boxes.”
“Thank you so much, Ms. Prescott. We won’t take any more of your time.”
The woman took back the box from Rafe, and Rhianna noticed the aquamarine on her pinky finger, the twenty-plus-carat sapphire ring beside it. She looked from the ring to the woman. “Please, just a few more minutes of your time. Did the judge buy you any other rings during the last two years?”
Karen Prescott almost frowned, then seemed to recall that any expression would mar the perfect symmetry of her face. “He bought me jewelry for my birthday, for my anniversary and for Christmas. What of it?”
“Did all the rings come in white velvet boxes?” Rhianna persisted, even though hunger pangs told her that she needed to eat soon.
“Of course.”
“Do you still have all of them?”
“In the vault.” The woman started to close the door, seeming nervous about staying in sight. Was she afraid of her ex-husband? Rhianna wondered. Or was she herself just imagining things?
“You’re sure?”
“Very. I had to open them all to find this ring. Each is in its box—I’m very meticulous about my jewelry.”
“Thank you, Ms. Prescott.” Rhianna fought to keep disappointment from her tone. “You’ve been very—”
“I’m so sorry. But you really must go.” The woman firmly closed the door behind them.
Rhianna had to admit the judge had been a long shot. She didn’t know the man well. What reason would he have had to stalk her, anyway? she wondered as they drove away. At least they could cross him off their very short list.
She turned to Rafe. “Looks like we came up empty again.”
“Hal and Janet Stone live in Highview. We can talk to them tomorrow.”
“I barely know the Stones. And what motive would they have to stalk me?” Just thinking about the possibilities tired Rhianna out. The box could have been stolen or taken out of someone’s garbage. There were too many possibilities to pin all their hopes on one alone. But the empty box was their only lead, so it made sense to at least follow through. If Rafe persisted in his idea of taking her to his ranch, she didn’t know how she’d find the energy to fight him. “Maybe that detective has found something.”
“It’s unlikely the Stones are the culprits, but I’d like to narrow down every possibility.” He glanced at her with compassion, as if he could read her weariness. “We’ll phone Joe after dinner. Right now you look as if you need some food.”
Food! Rhianna smiled. “You know just how to make me perk up.” At least they could relax and mull over her situation. Headlights in the rearview mirror caught Rhianna’s eye and she grabbed Rafe’s hand. “Rafe, that car has been following us since we left Ms. Prescott’s house.”
Rafe looked in the rearview mirror. “Which car?”
“The silver sedan with the tinted windows.”
“I see it.” Rafe made a quick but controlled U-turn. “Hang on. Let’s go talk to the driver.”
Chapter Five
Rhianna put her hand over her stomach. “Maybe a confrontation isn’t a good idea.”
At least Rafe didn’t speed. He drove carefully, competently, without any visible tension in his grip of the steering wheel.
Still, fear galloped through Rhianna like a runaway horse. Rafe easily pulled alongside the silver sedan, which had stopped in a restaurant parking lot.
Rafe parked behind the sedan, unfastened his seat belt and opened his door. “Stay here.”
Rhianna didn’t say a word in argument. But no way would she allow Rafe to face her stalker alone. Unarmed.
Reaching into her pocket, she took comfort in the cold steel of her gun. As Rafe approached the sedan, she flicked off the safety, then opened her car door slowly, careful not to make a sound. She didn’t want Rafe to hear her or see her as she waddled behind him and aimed the gun at the driver’s window.
Rafe must have sensed her. “Don’t you ever think of the baby first?”
Rhianna hefted the gun. “The baby needs a father just as much as a mother.”
Rafe’s whisper rose in aggravation. “I’d like the baby to make it into this world in one piece.”
“I’m careful.”
In the deepening darkness of dusk, Rhianna couldn’t see through the tinted glass. A whirring sound made her fingers tighten around the gun’s grip, but the noise was only the car’s window rolling down.
Joe, the detectiv
e Rafe had hired, nodded a sheepish hello. “Spotted me tailing you, did you?”
“You!” Rhianna flicked the gun’s safety back on and started to return her weapon to her pocket.
But Rafe took the gun from her with a long look of resignation, then checked the safety catch before returning the weapon to her, handle first. “You never did listen worth a damn.”
Rhianna tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I only listen to smart advice. Walking up to a possible stalker isn’t the brightest move you’ve ever made.”
With a careless shrug, Rafe turned to Joe. “Why are you following us?”
“Thought I might pick up the stalker.” The restaurant’s neon sign reflected off Joe’s glasses. “While I didn’t see anything suspicious, I have dug out some interesting information.”
Rhianna’s stomach rumbled. “Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?” Her plan was threefold: to eat, to listen to Joe and to keep the evening from becoming too cozy between her and Rafe. A third person would keep the conversation impersonal and allow her to maintain an emotional distance.
After they’d settled at a table and given their orders to a waitress, Joe pulled a file from his briefcase. “Duncan Phillips made a bundle in the stock market—”
“Tell us something we don’t know.” Her patience shot, Rhianna kicked off her shoes beneath the table. Her feet ached. Her stomach made noisy slurping sounds, and the day had been a waste. She’d done no work, missed her animal husbandry class, missed helping her dad with Sweetness. And for what? So she and Rafe could run around playing detective? So she could have her heart broken by Rafe?
“Duncan Phillips has the reputation of a shark. He swam in murky waters and came out clean, but his ex-partner now resides in a federal penitentiary. According to the partner, he took the rap for Duncan’s indiscretions.”
“What’d they do?” Rafe asked as he calmly reached down and placed Rhianna’s foot in his lap. He proceeded to rub her aching arch beneath the table, and as his knowledgeable fingers worked out kinks and cramps, she could barely hold back a tiny moan of pleasure.
Lullaby and Goodnight Page 6