Rafe’s blood heated as he struggled to keep his voice even. “That’s ridiculous.” He turned to his father. “What about the FBI? Can’t they do something?”
The senator nodded his support just as Rafe knew he would. “You can be sure I’ll push for action. But, Rafe, you must understand that Judge Stuart is a powerful man, with well-connected friends within the justice system. They will protect him, slow down the investigation, throw roadblocks in our way.”
Sheriff Demory shrugged. “Without more evidence, I’m afraid we have nowhere to go.”
“I have an idea.” Rhianna said the words slowly. “Let’s leak the story to the press.”
The senator’s eyes gleamed. “That’s not a bad suggestion. If we shred Stuart’s reputation, people will be less likely to help him.”
Rafe held up the note with the judge’s handwriting. “It would be better if we had more.”
Rhianna let out a long, low sigh. “I think we should talk to the ex-Mrs. Stuart again. I have a feeling she might give us the ammunition we need.”
Chapter Thirteen
The endless rain matched Rhianna’s gloomy mood perfectly. Once again she’d left Allison with Laura to accompany Rafe to Denver. She detested the endless traveling. And despite the fact that talking to the judge’s ex-wife was her own suggestion, she suspected it would prove futile. Rhianna figured that after the sheriff had called Stuart about the note in his file, the judge would have tidied up all the loose ends. Rhianna couldn’t help feeling that the smart, well-connected and careful Judge Stuart had outwitted them from the beginning and might continue to do so.
She’d always believed that, once they discovered her kidnapper’s identity, they’d be safe and the ranch would be saved. But she’d been wrong. The Suttons and Rhianna might now know their enemy’s identity, but proving the man guilty might be impossible.
Even worse, Rhianna no longer bought Rafe’s excuse that as long as the judge remained free to plot and plan against the Suttons, she would be in greater danger if they were married.
All last night, after she’d pointed out to Rafe that she was already connected to the Suttons and therefore a target, she’d waited and waited for Rafe to reassure her, to tell her that marriage wouldn’t put her in more danger than she was already in by having borne his daughter. But he hadn’t discussed the subject, and his silence had told her what she needed to know. Rafe was using the judge as an excuse. Rhianna didn’t know Rafe’s real reason—maybe he didn’t love her enough, maybe he didn’t know himself—but she couldn’t wait around forever. She had her life to live, a daughter’s future to consider.
Facing the possibility that the Suttons could never prove the judge’s guilt exhausted Rhianna. The thought of losing Rafe left a black hollowness inside her that hurt so much she didn’t want to think about it. But she had to think of tomorrow and the day after that. She couldn’t go on much longer, playing amateur detective. Rafe might never realize or admit that he was using Judge Stuart’s threats as an excuse to avoid marriage.
As Rafe parked in front of Karen Prescott’s house and slipped the keys into his pocket, Rhianna drank in his stunning good looks. Dressed in a navy sports coat, blue shirt and jeans, he could have modeled for one of the rodeo magazines. He possessed a casual elegance and grace, and an air of intelligence that made him so sexy she had trouble remembering his stubbornness. Rafe wasn’t going to change his mind about marriage—not even if they nailed the judge cold.
And unless something new broke today, the Suttons would lose their land. With the mortgage payment due, time had finally run out. The insurance on the stolen art was still tied up in an investigation. The blocked pass had been cleared, but not in time to round up and sell the cattle. Rhianna wasn’t hopeful, but she vowed to press through this last interview before making a final decision about what to do next.
Karen Prescott answered her front door with an abrupt gesture. “Please, come in.”
She led them into a sitting room decorated in pastels and flowers, offered them drinks, which they declined, then sat while Rafe told her his suspicions about the judge and about the note he’d found. While Rafe spoke, Rhianna watched the woman carefully. Several emotions crossed Karen’s face, but surprise wasn’t one of them.
“I’m not sure I can help you,” Karen began.
Rafe spoke softly, persuasively, clearly understanding that the woman was stressed out by the conversation. “We’ll keep whatever you can tell us in confidence.”
So Rafe had also noticed that Karen was reluctant to talk about her ex-husband. Rhianna had always known Rafe could be charming and sensitive and kind, but she’d never seem him this compelling. It wasn’t just his words but his demeanor, the casual tilt of his head, his slight lean forward to show Karen how important this information was to him. Rafe would have been a brilliant trial attorney, but Rhianna was glad he’d decided to breed horses instead. The Suttons had dealt with enough criminals to last three generations.
“I know nothing about my ex-husband’s day-today activities. He was an extremely secretive man.”
“Did he ever speak harshly about my father?” Rafe asked.
“Actually, he was consumed by everything your father accomplished, with a fervor I thought un-healthy.”
“What do you mean?” Rhianna asked.
“The judge considered himself Senator Sutton’s enemy, an arch rivalry that started in high school.”
Rafe looked surprised. “High school?”
“Your father, a star quarterback, defeated Stuart’s team, and Stuart never recovered from fumbling a catch that could have scored a touchdown and turned around the championship game.”
Rhianna and Rafe exchanged a long glance, but neither interrupted Karen.
“Their rivalry escalated in the political arena. As you already know, the senator defeated my ex when they both ran for mayor, governor, then senator. The only rivalry your father ever lost to Stuart was over me.” Karen paused. “I picked the wrong man. I was young, foolish.”
Rhianna didn’t know what to say. As usual, Rafe did. “I’m sure the judge was considered quite a catch back then. He’s brilliant and ambitious, a combination ladies find irresistible. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
“I should have seen through the surface charm to the maliciousness beneath.” Karen shrugged. “But I was fooled. When our marriage ended in a bitter divorce, the judge blamed the failure on Senator Sutton.”
“Why?” Rafe asked.
“My husband was an expert on shifting blame to anyone but himself. In the judge’s twisted mind, the senator must have lied to the constituents or they would have voted for my ex. The judge thought that if he’d been elected senator instead of your father, then we’d still be married.”
“He told you this?” Rhianna asked, finding the entire idea hard to take in.
“I would have divorced him if he’d become president of the United States. It’s possible our divorce pushed him over the edge. It wasn’t that he loved me. But I represented his only success in his rivalry with the senator—because I married him. When I left, it compounded all the jealousy and bitterness he felt over the years.”
“You’re sure?” Rafe asked, gently prodding Karen for more information.
“I have no proof, but I lived with the man for thirty-three years and knew him well. Too well. Some men measure their accomplishments against their fathers or brothers. My ex measured himself against Senator Sutton. And the senator beat my husband in every way that counted. He had five sons, a huge ranch, wealth, prestige. When the judge didn’t measure up, he obsessed over how to beat the senator. Remember the baby-sitter that murdered Dr. Cameron Sutton’s first wife?”
“What about her?”
“I heard the judge recommend the baby-sitter for the job. And all the while, he knew about her unstable background, knew she might cause trouble for Cam and his wife.”
Rafe spoke slowly, obviously putting together the pieces. “The judge was also part
ners with the lawyer who caused Chase and Laura all that trouble.”
“Exactly. I’m not surprised my ex may have turned to illegal means, for winning is everything to him. He’s a bitter, lonely man and he obtains pleasure from watching others suffer.”
Rhianna winced as she realized Rafe had been right all along. Judge Stuart had meticulously and ruthlessly planned to bring down the Suttons, stomping on anyone in the family, taking his revenge on the senator, his children and grandchildren. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Rhianna knew that Karen had just confirmed the reason Rafe had given for not marrying her. As long as the judge went free, Rafe would never marry Rhianna, for fear that Stuart would go after her again.
He’d gone after Rhianna because she was the mother of Rafe’s child. Being single hadn’t protected her in the past. It wouldn’t in the future. Rafe was simply using the judge as an excuse to avoid commitment.
He stood and paced the small sitting area. “All of this explains your ex-husband’s motivations, but we need something more solid.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you there.”
Rafe stopped and rested his hands on the back of the chair he’d vacated. “We need to find the marked bills used for the ransom. Or the stolen art.”
“He hasn’t spent the cash,” Rhianna told Karen, forcing her thoughts to focus on the money, when she really wanted to make Rafe face up to the real reason he’d avoided marriage. “Have you any idea where he might have hidden the money or the artwork?”
Karen shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Did the judge keep a safety deposit box?’ Rafe asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Rhianna closed her eyes for a brief moment, knowing this might be the last time she and Rafe ever worked together. That amount of cash had to take up a lot of space. “Does he have a safe at his house?”
“Not unless he installed one since I moved out.”
Rafe swung the chair around and straddled it. “Does he have a hunting cabin?”
“No, but we have a ski chalet. And he doesn’t ski. I used to think he kept a mistress there, but he was never interested in other women.”
“Then why did he keep the place?” Rhianna asked, wondering if she’d ever understand the wealthy.
“The judge used the place to entertain men who funded his political campaigns. The monthly liquor and cigar bills could have fed a family of four for a year.”
Rhianna could see that Rafe was ready to head off to the ski chalet in hopes of finding the ransom money stashed there. But she didn’t believe the judge would be foolish enough to leave the money where they could find it. For all they knew, he had burned the cash and art—because it was the Sutton land he wanted.
Well, Judge Stuart wasn’t going to steal that land. Rhianna had always known she might have to make this choice. She’d hoped and prayed that Rafe and she could somehow work things out. But too much stood in their way.
Rhianna could stop the judge. But to do so she would lose everything she held dear. Everything that was important to her. Absolutely everything.
RHIANNA TOLD RAFE she had a headache, and asked him to drop her off at a Denver hotel. Although he’d been eager to search the judge’s ski chalet, he’d accompanied her to the room and had room service bring her some aspirin.
Rafe patted the bed. “Lie down. Let me rub your head and maybe you’ll feel well enough to accompany me.”
Was that suspicion she heard in his tone? Or did she simply feel guilty for what she was about to do? Lying on the bed and closing her eyes, she tried to hurry Rafe on his way. “You really should go. Maybe you’ll find the money in time to pay off the mortgage and put the judge away for good.”
Rafe rubbed just above her ears with his thumbs. “Maybe. If not, Hal Stone made your father and me an offer on Sweetness.”
“Oh, Rafe. Losing that foal would hurt my father as much as losing the Sutton ranch would hurt the senator. We can’t let Stuart win. You should go now.”
His eyes were haunted with shadows of quicksilver. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed his hand and did her best to look him straight in the eyes. “Please go, Rafe. You only have a few hours.”
“Okay, okay.” He held up his cell phone. “Call me if you need me.”
She nodded, memorizing the way he looked at her this last time.
Rafe hesitated at the door and turned back. “Wish me luck.”
She gave him a thumb’s-up.
“Chain the door behind me.”
Rhianna nodded past the lump in her throat. This was goodbye. That Rafe didn’t know it didn’t make letting him go any easier. He would never feel the same way about her again—not after what she was about to do. She told herself it didn’t matter. Rafe was strong. He had his family. And she—she would know she’d put things right.
Rhianna’s decision to leave Rafe left her shaking and sick at heart. But what she did right now could prevent the senator and his sons from losing their ranch. Rafe and her father could keep Sweetness. Allison would have her heritage. Rhianna’s daughter would grow up in a family surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins and a father who loved her. Because Rhianna had just made the most painful decision of her life—to leave her precious baby with Rafe.
He closed the door behind him, and the tears she’d held back streamed down Rhianna’s cheeks. She angrily wiped them aside. She could cry buckets of tears later. She might never stop. But now she had to be stronger than she’d ever been.
Rhianna didn’t bother locking the door. Ruthlessly, she pushed her sobs into a dark place inside her, imprisoned the pain, reached for the phone. She had to do this now—before she lost her courage.
Her hands shook as she dialed the number. Her stomach churned. “Duncan?”
“Changed your mind?”
“Yes.” Duncan hadn’t bothered with a greeting, and she responded with a coldness that matched her soul. At least she had the knowledge that Duncan wasn’t her kidnapper. Duncan needn’t know that she was doing this for love—love for her daughter. And love for Rafe Sutton, whom she could never blame for being the way he was. Rafe had always been honest with Rhianna. He’d told her from the start he wasn’t the marrying kind. And while he might eventually propose because they shared a child together, Rhianna wouldn’t marry him for the wrong reasons. While she would deal with Duncan as a business partner, she could never have done that with Rafe. She couldn’t bear to marry Rafe, then watch their affection for one another change first to resentment and then hatred. Better to make a clean break now and ensure her daughter’s future.
Marrying Duncan for the wrong reasons bothered her much less. Duncan didn’t love her—she wasn’t sure he was capable of loving anyone. He just didn’t want to lose her. He never lost in business and he wasn’t about to lose at romance. She suspected he wanted her like he wanted the Picasso on his living room wall or the Rolls Royce he parked next to his Lamborghini. To him their arrangement was practical. Her emotions wouldn’t be ravaged if Duncan’s attentions or feelings toward her ever changed.
Rhianna took a deep breath. “I’ll marry you this afternoon.”
Duncan didn’t ask unnecessary questions. He’d pull some strings or bribe an official to arrange the necessary paperwork in time to marry within hours. Somehow, Rhianna got through the rest of the conversation. She told Duncan the name of her hotel and her room number, that she would order a dress and that he should bring a notary to marry them and a check to pay off the Sutton mortgage. The only surprise had been when Duncan told her she would need to sign a prenuptial agreement, claiming she was already getting enough cash out of him to last a lifetime. If she chose to squander the money on the Suttons, that was her decision.
And Rhianna agreed. Hanging up, she dropped her face into her hands. Somehow, she would go on without seeing her daughter every day. Without seeing Rafe every day. Knowing they were well and safe and together, living the life they sh
ould have, would sustain Rhianna through the endless empty days and nights ahead. The sacrifice she would make today was the right one. She knew in her heart she was doing what was best, but why did it have to hurt so much?
RAFE WORRIED ABOUT Rhianna as he took the hotel elevator down to the lobby. She’d never mentioned the word migraine, but the agony he’d seen when he looked into her eyes had been much worse than her casual tone had indicated. He didn’t want to leave her. Suppose she needed medical attention?
Suppose she died?
Died?
Where had that thought come from? Rhianna was a young, healthy woman. Two aspirin could cure her headache.
Aspirin won’t cure a brain aneurism.
She’ll be fine.
Maybe. You want to take the chance?
Did he? Rafe shook off the fear for Rhianna as he exited the elevator and strode across the lobby. He needed to check Stuart’s ski chalet for the ransom money. And he needed to call the senator, but his cell phone battery was dead.
Rafe stopped at the bank of phones in the lobby, plucked a quarter from his pocket and tried his dad’s cell phone. The senator answered on the first ring. “Yes?”
“Judge Stuart’s ex-wife confirmed that he’s been after you for a long time. Apparently, he blamed his loss to you in the senate race for the break-up of his marriage. He wants revenge, but we still need proof.”
“My contacts at the FBI say the judge is clean.”
Rafe heard weary frustration in the senator’s voice, but not defeat. His father would fight for his lands to his last breath. “Any luck on moving the cattle through the pass?”
“It’s slow going.”
“I’m heading up to the judge’s ski chalet—”
“That might not be a good idea. The judge could be waiting up there…with a gun.”
“He’s in court today. I checked.”
“Sounds like you have things under control. But be careful. Keep Rhianna safe.”
The senator often told his sons to keep their women safe. Rafe wondered if his father felt guilty because he hadn’t been there for Rafe’s mother. The senator had been working the night she’d died, returning home far too late to help his wife, whom Rafe had found dead on the kitchen floor. Although the senator rarely mentioned how much he missed his wife, or spoke of the heart attack that had dropped her while she cooked supper, he often reminded his sons to take care of their families, and he never stopped telling them to take care of one another.
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