Courting Danger

by Carol Stephenson

  Shirley rasped, “You shouldn’t have done this. Risk yourself for me. Jonathan would never have forgiven me if harm came to one of his own.”

  Would. She knew he was dead.

  “Do you know who killed my grandfather?”

  “No.”

  Her denial was too quick. “Try again.”

  “I don’t, not really.” She shifted beside me.

  “But you have your suspicions?”

  “Who’s going to listen to the ramblings of a jealous old drunk?”

  That set me back on my heels. “You were in love with my grandfather?”

  “He never noticed. Too wrapped up in that wife of his.” Her voice was bitter.

  Criminal Law 101: Jealousy was a prime motive for murder. “Did you kill him?”

  “No!” Her voice rose, and I laid my hand on her arm and squeezed a warning. I listened, but the motor continued to grow fainter.

  “I would never hurt him,” she continued.

  “Who would?”

  “He put lots of people in jail.”

  Great. That was helpful. “Any threats in particular before he disappeared?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “All he could think about was that trial.”

  “Did you work late the night he disappeared?”

  “No, he sent me home early despite the fact he was working on a decision. He always handwrote his first drafts you know,” she confided.

  “Why did he let you go home?”

  “He had a meeting and didn’t need me.”

  Didn’t need her or didn’t want her to be a witness, I thought.

  She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a small bottle and drank until she polished it off. From the odor I would say it contained the cheapest gin made.

  Wiping the back of her mouth on her sleeve, she patted my hand. “Jonathan was kind like that. He said I didn’t need to hang around for The Family.”

  During my research, I had learned the Castillos were often referred to as “The Family” in Cuban society. I frowned. “Do you mean the Castillos?”

  She struggled to stand up. “I want to get out of here.”

  “Wait. Let me make sure they’re gone.” Inching forward, I could see the length of the pier. No sign of the boat. The breeze kicked up and I thought I could hear the engine moving to the south of us.

  “It’s okay for us to move.” I turned. “I’ll call—”

  Shirley was gone. I scrambled clear of the brush but saw no one and no movement. I listened but heard no sounds.

  I smacked my forehead. How stupid. I should’ve remembered that years of living on the streets would’ve honed her hiding ability to the max.

  Sighing, I pulled my phone from my bag. Shirley may have declined a ride in an air-conditioned taxi, but I was so ready. Then I would call Carling and Nicole. The phone’s screen lit up indicating I had a text message. It was from Gabe stating he was on his way back. I glanced at my watch.

  I needed to get back to my house. Quickly.

  I was right. Getting a cab was a relative breeze. During the short ride into West Palm Beach, I called Nicole and brought her up to speed.

  Once home I rushed straight into the bedroom, ruined clothes flying. I gathered and thrust them into the deepest recess of my closet. I changed into a crisp pair of shorts and midriff top. Since I needed to set the scene, I didn’t take time for my hair, other than tucking a few strands behind my ears. Back out in the living room, I laid out note-pads and my case file.

  There. I switched on a table lamp. The picture of someone working at home. Maybe I had time for a quick makeup and hair fix….

  I heard a knock at the door and sighed. Or perhaps not.

  After checking through the peephole, I opened it. With a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Gabe sauntered in and hauled me close for a long, lingering kiss before releasing me, breathless.

  “I need a key if I’m going to be staying here.”

  His request blindsided me. A door key. Free access to the haven I had created for myself.

  Be logical, Kate. Our schedules were all over the place.

  “Of course.” I went into the room that served as my home office and headed to the wall safe. Unbelievably, my fingers trembled as I dealt with the lock.

  Why was I acting like this was such a momentous occasion? Gabe wasn’t moving in with me permanently. This wasn’t a step in our relationship, if we had one. Giving him a key was simply an expedient.

  I took a deep breath and opened the safe. The contents included important documents, a few pieces of valuable jewelry and my gun. I pulled out an envelope containing extra sets of house keys, removed one and handed it to Gabe.

  He slipped it onto his key ring and stuck it in his pocket. “Thanks. I’m hungry. Got anything in the fridge?”

  So much for significant milestones. I bit back a smile and said, “Let me see what I can find.”

  On cue my cat appeared in the doorway and yowled loud and plaintive. “I’m sorry, Willy. It’s way past your dinnertime. I’ll feed you.”

  I skirted around Gabe to enter the hallway, but he looped his arm around my waist. “Hang on, Kate.”

  He pulled me close, so close his breath feathered my ear. Hmm, maybe Willy could wait. I turned and placed my hands on his shoulders. “Do you have something better in mind?”

  “I might.” He nipped my earlobe, sending a luscious shiver down my spine. “But first, I want to know…” He trailed kisses along my neck.

  Sighing, I arched slightly to give him better access. “Yes?”

  “Why is Willy so hungry and why do you have a twig caught in your hair?” He released me only to brace his hands on the wall, caging me. “What have you been up to tonight? And don’t tell me you’ve only been hanging out with the girls. Carling called me earlier, frantic, when you disappeared.”

  Betrayed and trapped. Damn. No way to waffle out of this one.

  I folded my arms and leaned against the wall. “If you must know, I was playing a game of water chicken with your buddies Dumb and Dumber.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I spotted my grandfather’s secretary tonight on Clematis. When I followed her to Flagler, guess what two creeps crawled out from the shadows?”

  Cold fire lit his eyes as he cupped my face. “Babe, did they hurt you?”

  “No.” I covered his hand with mine. “But they had quite a bath, though I doubt if it was enough to wash away all their dirt.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “When a car pulled up on Flagler, I gathered that Shirley and I were meant to be bundled inside by your friends. I gave them the slip and borrowed a boat.”

  “Borrowed?”

  “I’ve already called a friend who will return it to the rightful owner tomorrow along with a filled tank and a note promising to cover any damages,” I replied in a prim tone.

  “So what happened?”

  “I took off with Shirley, but Dumb and Dumber grabbed a faster boat. I decided to see if their balls were as small as their minds.”

  Gabe’s lips quirked. “That small, huh?”

  “I would say so. When I steered at the fireworks barge—”

  My teeth rattled together as Gabe first gave me a shake and then hugged me. “Have you lost your mind? You could’ve been killed!”

  I found it hard to talk with my face smothered against his chest, but I didn’t mind. “Not really, Gabe. I’ve spent a lot of time around boats. I know how to handle one. I figured that gave me an advantage over your friends.”

  “They’re dead. I swear to God they’re dead.”

  I wiggled free. “I’m pretty sure you may get your chance.”

  He groaned and pressed his forehead to mine. “Finish it while I still have a mind.”

  I bit my lip but decided now was not a good time to tease him. Quickly, I told him the rest, trying not to notice how Gabe’s jaw resembled granite. “So I’m fine, though I would love a massage and hot shower. How
did your meeting go?”

  “On a scale of one to ten in comparison to yours? Oh, I say about a minus one hundred.”

  Disappointment jabbed through me. “You didn’t learn anything from the widow?”

  “Yes, but…” Gabe knelt. Before I could react, he lifted me into a firefighter’s carry over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?”

  He headed down the hall to my bedroom. “First I’m going to check you head to toe to make sure you’re really all right.” I shrieked as he dumped me onto the bed. He dropped on top of me, bracing himself on his outstretched hands. “Then I’m going to make love to you until we’re beyond exhaustion.”

  I smiled. “Oh really?”

  He lowered his head. “Really.”

  Expecting hot, bone-melting sex, I arched up, ready for the onslaught. Gently, he pushed me back. “Not so fast.” He slid down and gripped my foot. Slowly, he slipped off my sandal and then began to massage my foot.

  I bit back a whimper as pain flared before dissipating as the abused muscles relaxed. He repeated the process with my other foot. When I could’ve curled my toes into the mattress, he slid his hands over my left calf. I clenched my fists as inch by inch he kneaded both legs, moving tantalizingly closer.

  At his urging I lifted my hips and he removed my shorts. Next came my top. The breeze stirred by the ceiling fan cooled my heated flesh. I was more than ready and reached to draw him closer, but he shook his head.

  “Turn over.” With only a slight protest I obliged. Gabe straddled me and, when he stretched to rub my neck, his erection pressed against me. His fingers stroked, caressed and found every tight muscle in my back.

  Coiled within the languidness was with a growing sensual tension. I bunched my buttocks and bucked slightly against Gabe.

  “Hey—” Gabe gave me a slight swat “—stop that.”

  “But…” I rolled over.

  Gabe palmed one breast, rolling my nipple to a hard peak. “But what?”

  “I want.”

  His teeth flashed in the dark. “Tell me what you want.

  “Your mouth on me. Everywhere.”

  “Your wish is my fantasy.” And kiss me he did. My neck, my breasts, my stomach. Then he parted me and kissed me on my heated flesh. As I welcomed my first climax, he eased into me and drove me over another endless wave.

  Chapter 17

  “So the widow believes her husband was framed for the store owner’s murder?”

  Gabe didn’t glance away from the Marlins baseball game he was watching on the TV in the living room. “We’ve already covered this.”

  Unable to sit still, I wandered around my living room. “We’re missing something. I need to go over your interview again.”

  Shrugging, Gabe said, “Señora Lopez says they were recent immigrants. Why would her husband risk the only job he could find?”

  I paused in my pacing to stand in front of him. Big mistake. Still shirtless, he lay sprawled on the sofa, his bare feet crossed and propped on the top of the coffee table. He epitomized a man enjoying his Sunday afternoon.

  He looked good there, I realized with a double-edged sword of longing and panic. Having him underfoot and in my bed over the weekend had run the relational gamut from aggravating to exhilarating.

  A commercial came on, and he looked up, frowning. “You look weird, like when one of my sisters can’t make up her mind what to wear. What’s wrong?”

  Oh, I knew what I wanted to wear. Him. Naked. Now and tomorrow and the next day. But I had no time for this personal angst. None at all. The trial began tomorrow. Most of the time I was comfortable with the demands of my career, at times chewing up weekends and holidays.

  I swallowed and shook my head. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking.”

  Gabe’s lips curved in that long, slow smile and reached out for me. “Thinking’s a dangerous thing for a woman to be doing on a Sunday afternoon. Come here.”

  I neatly sidestepped his hand. “Why did Mrs. Lopez think her husband was framed? After all, if he was new to the country, seeing the grocery store’s till filled with money could’ve been an incentive for anyone desperate.”

  Gabe dropped his hand. “New to the country, didn’t speak English, no friends. He cleaned the store after hours. Perfect man to set up.”

  “Or to commit the crime.”

  “That’s what the jury found.”

  “Due to Winewski’s evidentiary rulings throughout the case.” I picked up my pad of notes.

  “Damn.” Gabe sounded disgusted. I figured the Braves had gotten another hit. “I totally forgot to tell you one comment she made.”

  “What?”

  “Someone approached her husband in jail and offered him money, big money, to say he was guilty.”

  I picked up a pillow and heaved it at him, hitting his chest. He only grunted. “Damn it, Gabe! Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  He tossed the pillow aside. “Don’t blame me. It’s your fault that I’ve been a sex slave for the past few days.” He patted the cushion. “Speaking of which, there’s plenty of room here for you.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” I kept the coffee table between us and folded my arms. “You’re not going to sidetrack me.”

  “Your loss,” he said, flashing a lewd grin.

  I rolled my eyes. “Your ego is unbelievable.”

  “No, Beautiful, you are.”

  Keep focused, Kate. You can’t jump his bones. Yet.

  “Did Lopez take the money?”

  “He refused.”

  “Did his widow know who tried to pay him off?”

  “No, only that he was Cuban.”

  “Your Castillo connection?”

  “Yeah.”

  Gabe’s expression hardened. I knew the morning after my run-in with Dumb and Dumber he had called Lieutenant Bowie while he thought I was still in the bedroom dressing. Since then Gabe kept his cell phone by his side; it even went into the bathroom with him. However, I had drawn a line about him bringing it to bed.

  Bending over a stack of folders, I grabbed one filled with microfilm copies of newspaper articles. I scanned one clipping. “This is what bothers me. The killer beat the owner to death.”

  “That makes it a crime of rage or warning.”

  “Exactly.” I pulled out the police report Gabe had managed to dig up on the old crime. “The investigators found the bat in his garbage can. Pretty damning.”

  I thought about the neighborhood I had seen when we had gone to visit Isabella Montoya. “Gabe, that bat had to be planted.” Pacing, I ticked the facts off on my fingers. “One, Lopez had no car. He walked to work. Two, we’re talking about July, when the murder happened around seven-thirty. It’s still light. Lopez walked home carrying a bloody bat and no one saw him?”

  I was close. I knew I had to solve this murder to find the answer to Grace Roberts’s death. The two were linked and if I pulled out the thread of truth on the old case, the new one should unravel.

  The doorbell rang. I frowned. Interruptions I didn’t need right now. “Gabe, could you answer that while I work out a timeline?” I hurried toward the office but glanced out the window. Oh no. A sleek silver Mercedes sat in the driveway behind Gabe’s battered truck.

  I spun around. “Gabe, wait—”

  Too late. As he scratched his stomach Gabe opened the door.

  “Well, really.” Hilary’s voice dripped ice.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes.” Gabe straightened and ran his hand through his hair. Hilary swept past him, followed by Colin.

  I sighed and dropped the folder onto the nearest table. Of all the rotten timing for them to visit. I plastered on a smile. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  Colin looked sheepish as he planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry, Katherine. We should’ve called.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Uncle Colin,” I murmured as I studied Hilary standing near the kitchen counter, studying the stacked dishes bearing the remains of breakfast. “I’m
glad you stopped by.”

  Gabe, who had disappeared into the bedroom, reemerged with a black T-shirt on. I gestured toward him as he sauntered over to my side. “You remember Gabriel Chavez.”

  “Yes, course.” Colin shook hands with him.

  “Would you mind telling me what this is all about?” Hilary’s question came out as a command.

  I opened and closed my mouth in disbelief. What did she need, a gigantic billboard with the word Lovers on it?

  Gabe came to the rescue. “With all the threats to Kate’s life, I’m staying with her until the trial is over.”

  Hilary’s lips pressed together, but, with a slight nod, she accepted the white lie meant to tidy a dirty situation. “All the threats? Has something else happened?”

  “Thursday night she was almost abducted.”

  The bald statement startled even me. I hadn’t really thought about the implications of the incident in that vein.

  Colin whitened. “Someone tried to take her?”

  “No,” I rushed to reassure him. I knew that one of the greatest fears of the wealthy was kidnapping for ransom. I shot Gabe a quelling look, but he didn’t appear repentant. “I’m sure it was because I had found Shirley Cameron.”

  Hilary slowly sank into the wingback chair. “Jonathan’s secretary? What on earth did you want with her?”

  “I think the question is what did those men want with her,” I said dryly.

  “Katherine.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’ve been investigating Grandfather’s disappearance.”

  “My God. Have you lost your mind? That happened years ago. Didn’t I tell you not to waste your time?”

  I planted my hands on my hips. We needed to have this out. Here. Now. “I don’t get it, Aunt Hilary. Why don’t you want to know the truth about your brother’s disappearance? Where he’s buried?”

  She flinched. Colin rushed over and put his arm around her shoulders. “Katherine! There’s no need to be so disrespectful to her.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Colin. But I’m tired of avoiding the topic of Jonathan Rochelle. He was my grandfather, your friend, her brother. Doesn’t anyone care what the truth is?”