1 In For A Penny

by Maggie Toussaint

  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.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  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. Dammit, 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 damn 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.

  I’d never been one for causal affairs, but this man tempted me to do things I’d never done before. How far would the new me go? Would I give him another chance?

  If only Charlie hadn’t destroyed my faith in my instincts. Never before had I felt like I was drifting through life without a rudder. Without that built-in self-check of my tried and true instincts, how could I be sure that I didn’t do something exceedingly foolish?

  I assumed Rafe didn’t kill Dudley. How big of an imagination stretch was it to think that his interest in me was more than superficial?

  My heart wanted to believe in the power of love. My head knew it wasn’t worth the risk.

  Who was I deluding with all this self-analysis? Even after catching him with Christine I still wanted him. The new Cleo Jones was an animal.

  Chapter 15

  The house where Jasper and his mother lived had an uncared-for look, like the owners had moved to Florida a few years ago and neglected to sell the place. High grass filled the yard in front of the tired two-story clapboard house. Trees encroached on the house from the sides and rear, as if the forest was reclaiming the acreage and the forest was winning.

  Two beagles reclining on the junk-filled porch bayed at our approach. I stopped in the rutted, weed-choked lane. My golf cleats might come in handy if I had to make a rapid getaway through this thick growth.

  There were no cars in the drive, no sign of recent civilization if one didn’t count the satellite dish on the sagging roof. In my mind I could hear banjos twanging like they did in that movie about isolated inbred country folk.

  Didn’t Rafe pay Jasper anything down at the golf club? From the looks of this place Jasper desperately needed a raise. And a bush hog to find his yard again. At the golf course Jasper had access to all kinds of mowing machines. Why didn’t he bring one home and clean up this mess?

  Or, did he like hiding out in the woods? This level of overgrowth would certainly discourage visitors.

  Jonette reached up and locked her door. “I’m not getting out. This place is too spooky.”

  “You are too getting out.” I hit the master lock button and unlocked all the doors. “I’m trying to keep your butt out of jail. If I’m risking my neck for you, the least you can do is provide moral support.”

  Jonette eyed the high grass and frowned. “I’m going to get ticks and God knows what else if I step foot out there.”

  So was I, but what was the point in whining about it? I opened my door. “What’s a few ticks among friends?”

  The beagles bayed louder as we approached the porch. The eerie noise reminded me of the sound hunting dogs made when they found something that smelled like dinner. I sure hoped these dogs didn’t have food on the brain.

  I stopped short of the badly warped, unpainted porch steps. If I had to defend myself against the killer dogs, I had my keys, my pocketbook, and Jonette. Not an arsenal by any means. If I was going to take investigating seriously, I would have to be better prepared for danger in the future. It might be time to dig Daddy’s pistol out from under my bed.

  I hollered above the din of barking dogs, “Mrs. Cooper? You in there?”

  “Okay. We did this.” Jonette tugged on my arm. “No one’s here. Let’s go.”

  I stood firm. A thump inside alerted me that someone was in the house. “Wait.”

  When no one greeted us, I tried again. “Mrs. Cooper, are you in there?”

  The interior door creaked open. I heard an unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. A metallic cylinder thrust through a hole in the screen door. “Who wants to know?” a gravelly voice called out.

  The object in the door was a rifle barrel, and it was pointing right at me. I moved a few paces to the side and the gun didn’t follow. The dogs continued barking for all they were worth.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Jonette stood directly behind me and tugged on my belt loop. “This woman is crazy.”

  “I’m Cleo Jones and this is my friend Jonette Moore, Mrs. Cooper.” Something was not quite right here and I wasn’t ready to go until I figured out what it was that was bothering me. “We’re here to talk to you about your pension fund. I believe you know my mother, Delilah Sampson.”

  As I spoke, the gun barrel angled towards my new location. Interesting. Did Mrs. Cooper have poor eyesight?

  The gun wobbled. “Hush, dogs,” she said and the dogs hushed. “You say you’re Dee’s daughter?”

  “Yes ma’am,” I answered. “I was a Sampson until I married Charlie Jones down at the bank.”

  “Those goddamn cheaters at the bank,” Mrs. Cooper grumbled. “You’re married to one of them?” She stepped closer to the door. More gun barrel slid out, but I could make out her rounded petite frame. Short white hair frizzled around a well-lined face. A faded floral shift spanned her plus-sized figure.

  The gun lined up on me again. I scooted sideways out of self-preservation. Who knew when she would pull the trigger? “Not anymore. Please, Mrs. Cooper, I need to talk to you.”

  “How do I know this isn’t some trick?” Mrs. Cooper asked. “Are you going to take my house away from me next? You’ll have to drag me out of here. I won’t come willingly.”

  “Mrs. Cooper, I don’t want your house,” I said. “I want to know about your pension fund. How long ago did the money disappear?”

  The rifle barrel followed the sound of my voice to my new location. Violet Cooper may have called off the dogs, but she wasn’t taking any chances. I whispered to Jonette to stay put when I moved next time. I wanted to see what Mrs.
Cooper would do if we split up.

  “Two years ago.” Bitterness ate through her voice like battery acid. “Those GD crooks at the bank took all my money. Do you think I want to live like this? It’s all their fault. I got to have an eye operation. Every dime Jasper makes goes toward that surgery. I won’t have the procedure done until I can pay for it.”

  “Don’t you have medical insurance?” I asked.

  She snorted. “Hell no. I don’t need insurance. I had the pension fund instead. Fat lot of good that did me. You were right to get shed of that banker fella. They’re crooks, every last one of ’em.”

  The gun followed me to my new location. Poor Mrs. Cooper. She was stuck in a falling-down house while Jasper worked for peanuts at the golf course. It would probably take him fifty years to come up with enough cash to pay for her eye operation on his minimum-wage salary. I’d speak with Mama to see if her cronies in the hospital auxiliary couldn’t do something to help Mrs. Cooper. “What kind of operation do you need? Is it that new laser surgery?”

  “Cataracts. Got ’em in both eyes. Can’t see worth a damn unless I look out of the side of my eyes, but the surgery is supposed to be a miracle cure. That’s the trouble with getting old. Your body wears out just when you finally get good sense. Then it’s a steady diet of doctors.”

  “What do you think happened to the pension fund?” I asked. All the while I was thinking, could investigation really be this easy? It seemed surreal that I could be this calm when someone was pointing a gun at me, but there it was. I was investigating Dudley’s murder, and I was going to beat the cops to solving the case.

  “Someone took it, that’s what. The po-lice couldn’t figure out who done it, so I didn’t get a dime of my money back. My life savings. Everyone on the advisory board came out squeaky clean, but it was those bank crooks that took my money. I think that Donnie Davis did it. You know him? I believe he goes by the name of Dudley.”

  Here was another trail back to Dudley. Was this a coincidence? “I know him, but I’m sorry to say that he’s dead. He died last week.”