Regardless of what the press or anyone in town thought, Rafe believed in Erin's innocence. He had no doubt the detective on the case knew that female killers weren't normally prone to such violence.
Erin wasn't smiling when he reentered her place. In fact, her jaw was set, and her eyebrows had dipped into a frown. God, she was stunning even when she was mad.
CHAPTER 6
Erin waited just inside the open door until Rafe was back inside. She stepped in front of him. "What was that about?"
"I don't know what you mean." He tried to sidestep her, but she moved, blocking his path.
"Yes, you do. Why were you in Linc's face?"
"He's involved." Rafe stepped closer, crowding into her space. "I don't know how, but I'll find out."
"Involved? Since when is being a caring neighbor a crime?"
Rafe's scent wafted through Erin's senses, almost making her forget the scene she'd watched through the window. She hated to yield and step back, but the heat rolling off his body made it difficult for her to think straight.
Erin reminded herself she'd learned the hard way what kind of person he was, and she hadn't seen anything to convince her that he'd changed. Years ago, he'd been too big of a coward to deliver his message. Instead, he'd sent Nick to do his dirty work. He'd considered her beneath him then and still did.
"He's either with law enforcement or he watches too much Law & Order," Rafe insisted.
"If you two can stop arguing long enough," Jeff said, "I'd like to hear more about you being here in the wee hours of the morning. What happened? And why didn't you call me?" He drummed his fingers on the tabletop.
"A photographer hid in the backyard and scared the crap out of me. I called Rafe..." Why had she called him instead of Jeff or the police? "I didn't want to frighten Lotty, and Rafe didn't ask me a bunch of questions like the 911 operator would have."
"So you can alibi her?" Jeff asked.
"It's too soon to say," Rafe said. "We don't know the Monroe girl's time of death."
"How selfish am I?" Erin asked, more of herself than anyone. "I'm sitting here hoping I have an alibi, instead of sympathizing with Sara Monroe's family."
Erin moved to the backside of the kitchen table, pulled out a chair and sat. Rafe followed, dragging his chair close to hers. Their thighs touched, and she squirmed in place. Contact with him sent streaks of lightning to places she didn't want heating up because of him. Sheesh, even in times of crisis he could make her thoughts turn toward sex.
"What's next?" She braced herself for him to tell her nothing.
"I've got some calls to make, but afterward, we'll let Jeff drive us to your car. If one of these news vans pulls out behind us, we'll ditch them."
"I can do that." Jeff smiled.
"Great. You can drop us off. Erin and I will swing by Harold's office. We need to know the time of death."
"Good plan. I'll keep asking around, too." Jeff turned to Erin. "This incident with the camera guy proves my point. You staying here at night alone isn't a good idea. Erin, girl," he said, using his pet name for her, "come home until this is over."
Erin stood, moved behind Jeff, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "How lucky was I that you caught me stealing that package of hot dog buns?"
"Depends on your point of view. I'd say it was my good fortune." Jeff patted her hand.
She blinked back the tears floating in her eyes. A look flitted across Rafe's face. Had she seen sympathy? She shook that off, attributing it to his recent loss. He strolled over to a window and lifted the blinds.
"If it gets too crazy here, we can work out of Dad's house," Rafe said.
"I hate to let a few reporters and camera crews run me from my home." She shivered as a chill raced up her spine. "You don't think I'm in danger, do you?"
"It's too soon to tell." Rafe lifted one broad shoulder. "Based on what little I know, it appears that you were the catalyst."
"Then I accept your offer," she said to Rafe. "What can I do?"
"Start thinking about who the girls hung out with. If you ever saw them outside of school, where were they? Stabbings this violent are usually one of two things: rage or to send a message."
"A message?" Erin's stomach rolled into a knot. Did she know the killer?
"Yeah. If the girls were using or reselling, they bought that shit somewhere. Drug dealers don't always look like sleazeballs. They come in all shapes and sizes, but they will eliminate anybody who becomes a threat to their business."
Jeff shook his head. "They used to cut out an informant's tongue."
"Still do, sometimes," Rafe agreed.
"Give me a minute to change." She went to her bedroom, slipped into a nicer pair of jeans, a lemon-yellow blouse, and a pair of multicolored wedges. She redid her hair, pulling it back into a long braid. With a splash of mascara and lip gloss, she was ready. Her insides might be in shreds, but she'd die before showing it.
Halfway down the hall, her bravery slipped. Jesus, they had a killer in their midst. Not some deranged stranger passing through. These murders had been methodical, well planned, and horrifying. Was the killer one of the teachers? One of the students? Where were the girls buying their drugs? The enormity of solving these murders hit her. She stumbled and reached out to brace herself on the wall.
Strong arms gathered her close.
"I've got you." Rafe lifted her as if she were a child and carried her to her bedroom, where he gently placed her on the edge of the bed. "What happened?"
The blood that had rushed from her head found its way to her cheeks. "Killer heels?"
"Nice try." He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. "It's okay to be scared."
"Good. Because I've never been through anything like this. I feel helpless. It's an emotion I don't like. I'm not sure I can remember everyone."
He knelt in front of her, caught her gaze, and smiled. "Of course you can't. Not unless you possess total recall." His smile widened. "Although, I do think some women have that ability."
Her mind flashed all the way back to high school. "You're right. We remember every slight, every hurtful, embarrassing thing done to us."
"Whoa." Rafe blanched as if she'd slapped him. "What the hell does that mean?"
Jeff entered the room. "Is there a problem back here?"
She tried to stand, but somehow Rafe had wedged himself between her knees.
"She's okay." His gaze never left her face. "Give us a minute?"
Jeff paused, and Erin thought he was going to refuse. Instead, he turned and walked out. "I'm ready to go when you two are."
Rafe hadn't budged. She reached out and grabbed his shoulders. He was too strong for her to push out of the way, and touching him sent vibrations deep into her core. Areas that didn't need to react to him warmed.
"Why do we need a minute?" She met his gaze, trying not to breathe in his clean, snowcapped-mountain scent. He'd always stirred something in her. No way was she setting herself up again.
"You've been pissed since you saw me sitting in your living room. You were a young snot twelve years ago, but it's time to grow up and move on."
"You jerk. My life was miserable back then. You deliberately tried to make it worse. If it hadn't been for Nick..." She clamped her mouth shut.
"My brother?" Rafe's eyes had turned the color of a spinning tornado. "What did he have to do with anything?"
Erin glared back at Rafe, but he didn't seem to be willing to let the subject drop. Maybe he was right. Why not clear the air? "You asked me to the prom, right?"
"And you accepted. Then you changed your mind, announcing it loudly and right in the middle of the hall."
"Because Nick confessed your plan. You thought it would be fun to tell everybody about my past. I should've known you'd never have asked me out for real." After she'd blurted the words out loud, she realized just how childish she sounded. "Look, my feelings were hurt so I lashed out. Why I let something that old flare up is just stupid."
"Then w
e'll end it. I have no idea why Nick would've said that to you. Not a word of it was true. None. You have my word." He rose to his feet and stepped back. "If we're going to figure out who killed these girls, we can at least be civil. Fair enough?"
"Fair enough," she agreed, glad that was behind them.
His head moved forward slightly in a semi-nod, and he whirled and was out of her room before she could speak. She listened to Rafe's footsteps receding down the hall. She had no reason to think he'd lie. Odd how she'd carried that hurt inside all this time without realizing it.
One good thing had come from clearing the air: She didn't have to regret having hot flashes when he got too close.
****
Damn, Rafe couldn't think why Nick would've pulled that crap, unless he'd been high. Truth be told, more than once, Rafe had suspected his brother of using while at school.
Jeff waited at the end of the hall. The corners of his mouth twitched out a piece of a smile. "You two ready?"
Soft fingers wrapped around Rafe's arm. Erin smiled up at him, and for some stupid-ass reason, his skin heated under her touch. He pulled her hand from his arm and held it in his. She was warm and soft and gripping him tightly.
"Look," Rafe said, "will a belated apology suffice? Because—"
"Don't." She looked up at him, and his chest squeezed. "I should be the one extending an apology. My behavior has been childish. My emotions seem to be controlling me instead of the other way around."
"Dual admissions of guilt." Rafe rolled their hands sideways, effectively turning the hold into a handshake. "I like it."
"Can we go now?" Jeff opened the front door.
"Stay directly behind us." Rafe indicated to her as he moved closer to Jeff until their shoulders touched.
Erin grabbed a handful of his and Jeff's shirts and followed a half step back. They ignored the small group of reporters, got in the SUV, and left the jerks standing in the street.
Erin turned in the seat. "A van is following us."
"We expected as much." Jeff maneuvered the SUV into traffic. "Hang on." He then cut down a side street and circled around through an alley. A few more turns and they were back on track without the tail.
"Nice work," Rafe commented, checking out the area. "It has been a long time since I've been through here. I don't recognize any of these businesses."
Jeff pointed at a barbecue restaurant. "There's one coming up on the right that you'll remember."
Rafe spotted the building before they drove past. It had been a regular hangout of the Sheriff's Department. "You bet I do."
His dad and Jeff had remained partners until they'd retired, but their friendship had changed after Rafe's mother's suicide. The fishing trips had ended. So had the poker games. The laughing, joking Max Sirilli had vanished, too. Thinking back on it, Rafe remembered that he'd never been cruel or mean to him or his brothers. He'd simply withdrawn. His body had been there, but the joy of living had died. Even three robust, noisy boys couldn't pull the shell of a man back into the land of the living. Rafe was glad that his dad had eventually started playing cards again, and that Erin had been accepted into the crew.
Rafe couldn't imagine, not in his wildest dreams, how a person could love as deeply as his dad had loved his mom. Nor could he fathom withdrawing from life because someone died. You kept moving, putting one foot in front of the other.
At first, he'd tried to help his dad snap out of the funk, but had failed miserably. Nick and Rafe were the oldest, and a lot of the responsibility had fallen on Rafe. He'd always wonder if he could've done more.
Jeff drove through the police parking lot and pulled up behind Erin's car. He opened the glove compartment and removed a gun.
"If that's for me—" Erin shook her head.
Rafe adjusted his pistol, making sure he'd pulled his shirt over it. "You need to carry one. Until we figure out who's killing these girls, if you go out of the house, Jeff or I will be with you." He held his hand up to stop her from interrupting, because he knew she was about to let loose. "You can legally keep a gun inside your home. Just be sure you let an intruder step over the threshold before you fire."
She moaned. "That means you babysit me. Lotty isn't well, and Jeff doesn't need the burden of taking care of us both."
"Then we're in agreement on this, right?" Jeff asked. "You'll work with Rafe, and you'll keep your doors at home locked."
"I promise. You also taught me not to be stupid." Erin leaned in and kissed the older man on his cheek. "We're going to find Harold."
Rafe stopped behind the small car and imagined his six-foot-two body wedged in the seat.
"My car is roomier than it looks." She hit the remote, unlocking the doors. "And eco-friendly."
He chuckled, not because she'd read his mind, but because he didn't believe this sardine tin had room for him. Somehow, he managed to get inside, but his knees were pressed tight against the dashboard.
"Let's go pick up my truck. The quicker I get out of this oversized skateboard the better." This time Erin laughed. The sound came from deep down, hearty and sincere. He liked that. Maybe they'd reached some sort of level ground. At least they could joke and laugh together.
She backed out of the parking spot and hit the gas. His head pinged off the roof, bringing a new round of laughter from her.
Rafe studied her profile. A feminine jawline, perfectly shaped nose, and that mole over the right corner of her mouth made his heart beat faster. Stunning, that's the word he'd use to describe her. Why hadn't some, five-day, forty-hour-week guy swept her off her feet?
"Is there something you want to ask?"
She'd caught him staring. "Sorry, my mind wandered."
"Okay. Then let's focus on this list you want. The teachers who had Penny and Sara in their classes might be able to add a few names."
"Will they help?"
"Some actually believe I'm innocent." Erin cut a glance at him as if surprised at his question. "They're going to the next school board meeting to speak out and ask that I be allowed to return to work."
"If you'll write down their names, I'll drop by the campus. My time is yours, except in the morning, when I'm meeting with the couple who manages the Helping Hands at Dad's church. They're going to take his clothes and some of the household goods."
"Max would like that."
"I thought so." Rafe thought it odd to hear her use his dad's given name. The affection in her tone put a hitch in his heartbeat.
"May I ask a question?" She glanced at him, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke.
"Sure. You might not like the answer, because I tell the truth."
"Why didn't you come home more often? Your dad always hoped you'd marry and settle down."
Rafe tried to scoot farther away, but the car door stopped him. "No marriage."
"Max said you were married to the federal government. He used to joke that was no way to produce a grandchild."
Rafe didn't have to think about his answer. "I witnessed firsthand how a family can fall apart when one of the parents dies. I'm not going to be guilty of putting someone through that kind of pain."
"Your dad didn't die in the line of duty."
"No, but my mother couldn't handle the pressure. After she died, we kids had to learn how to function with one absentee parent."
"I can see how your past might make you feel that way, but you've skewed it to where you think you might die."
"Chances are good. One of these days, I'll be undercover and run into somebody I helped send to prison. It's one of the hazards of living in their world, but it's what I want to do with my life."
"At least you had two parents who loved you."
The touch of bitterness in her tone piqued his interest. He'd never heard the full story about how she'd wound up being adopted by Jeff and Lotty. All he knew was that she'd been living on the street. Today when she'd mentioned that Jeff had caught her stealing food was the first time Rafe had heard how they met.
She parked in hi
s driveway, stopping without killing the engine and blocking his pickup. "I thought we were here to swap vehicles. There's room for your car next to my truck."
"If you think about it, I don't need to physically see Harold. I'll call him on the way home." She put the car in reverse. "And I'll work on the list from my house."
"You don't want to work from here?"
"Even with the press, I'll be more comfortable at home."
Her mood had taken a sharp dive. Dismissed like an unruly student, Rafe had no choice but to peel himself out of her shoebox of a car, grunting as he straightened his spine. Letting her leave alone didn't feel right, but then neither did standing his ground. Not when she was about to back over his feet. He stepped back, leaned down to eye level, and handed her Jeff's gun.
"Remember your promise to Jeff. Take this and lock the doors."
"I will."
He watched as she drove away. There wasn't a valid reason for her not to go home. Nothing truly indicated she was in danger from anybody other than the media. So why had he wanted her to hang out with him? And why had she rushed away? He'd upset her or hurt her feelings.
CHAPTER 7
Erin took a cleansing breath as she sped onto the freeway. Rafe's parents had loved him. Even though his mother had hurt the family by taking her life, he'd known what it was like to feel safe and know somebody cared for him. He'd been one of the lucky ones. Her jealousy of his childhood was ridiculous.
She thumbed the call button on her steering wheel and instructed the computer-voiced woman to get Harold's office on the line. Erin explained the incident with the photographer.
"His pictures will probably have a time stamp," the judge said. "That with the police report will document the time. That's more than one eye witness to your whereabouts."
"I didn't file charges."
"But you called the police?"
"Them and Rafe Sirilli."
"They logged their call to your house. The pictures are probably still good, but his statement and one from a federal agent will carry a lot of sway."
Till Justice Is Served Page 5
