Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas)

by Mari Manning

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I was walking by when your dog came out of nowhere and barked at me. The next thing I know, you’re accusing me of coming here on purpose.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I’m busy.” She began to walk away.

  “Did Teke come to see you before he died?”

  Dinah’s feet stopped.

  “You told him where the money was, didn’t you? That’s why they killed him.”

  She was getting mighty tired of all the fingers pointing at her. She spun on him. “Are you freaking out of your mind?” That felt good. “If I knew where the money was, do you think I’d be hanging around here?”

  She came close until she could see the tiny veins in his bloodshot eyes. “Who’s ‘they’, Mr. Lonnie? Someone tried to break into my house. If you know something, you tell it, or I’ll call the police.” Or maybe not. With her luck, that slime ball Swope, or worse, Rafe, would be assigned to investigate.

  Lonnie grabbed the greyhound’s collar and pulled it away from the fence. “Don’t ask questions that will get you in trouble.” He disappeared into the bushes, dragging the whimpering dog behind him.

  “Wait. Come back here.” Dinah hollered at the empty shrubbery, but he was gone.

  “Hey, Dinah.”

  Rafe’s cruiser rolled up beside her. He leaned over the passenger seat and grinned at her.

  “I’m surprised you have the balls to look me in the face.” Her cheeks began to burn. She was madder at him than she’d realized.

  His eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t bullshit me.”

  He got out of the cruiser and approached her cautiously, a puzzled look creasing his brow.

  “I’m dead serious,” he snapped, “and I would appreciate a straight answer. What are you talking about?” He folded his arms and glowered at her.

  What was he all hot about? She was the injured party. “This is a small town. Talk gets around.”

  “An answer, Dinah.”

  “Your colleague came to see me on Sunday. Don’t look so surprised. Did you really think you could talk about me behind my back, and no one would pay attention?”

  “Who came to see you, and what did they say?” He spat the words at her.

  “Swope. He said you were bragging all over El Royo about, uh, hooking up with me.”

  Rafe’s expression turned thunderous. “I may be just another weak cop to you, but I don’t talk about what’s private between me and a woman. Not that there’s much to talk about where you’re concerned.”

  “How did he know we went out on Saturday?”

  “You’d believe that sleazeball but not me?” He bellowed the question at her. “Half the county was at the party. Don’t you suppose anyone talked about us? Hell, I’ll bet you ten bucks it’s the hottest news in town.”

  He had a point.

  “Besides,” Rafe added, “after what happened to Esme, I know how it feels.”

  She frowned. “What happened to Esme?”

  His face closed. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s gotten hurt in the court of public opinion. That’s all I meant.” The radio in the cruiser began to squawk. “I better go.”

  She studied his back as he whipped around the car. “Wait a minute.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sorry. I should have known you were better than that.”

  He nodded at her. “Apology accepted.” But he looked hurt.

  “He said some nasty things about you. The gun business…” She trailed off.

  “Thanks.” He ducked into his car and sped away.

  …

  “Hey, Swope.”

  Swope looked nervously around the station parking lot. “I gotta get going. Meeting the guys for a beer.”

  “This will only take a minute.” Rafe reached out, grabbed Swope’s Hawaiian shirt, and pulled him up so he was balancing on his toes. He stared down into panicked blue eyes. “You want a piece of me?”

  Swope tried to shake his head. “N-no.”

  “Yeah? That’s not what I heard. Come on, let’s go.”

  “Get away from me, Morales.”

  Rafe yanked harder on Swope’s shirt. A button popped off. “The next time you’re in the mood to take me down, come after me. Leave the women out of it.” He pushed Swope away.

  Swope staggered, but found his footing. He brushed at his shirt. “You ruined my new Tommy Bahama, asshole.”

  It was time someone knocked a little sense into Swope, and he was just the guy for the job. Rafe’s right shoulder dropped back. His fist barreled at Swope, catching him right under the eye. Swope hit the ground.

  “Now you got something serious to complain about.”

  Swope glared up at Rafe. “You shouldn’t have done that, Morales.”

  Chapter Ten

  A heavy fist rapped against Dinah’s front door.

  “It better be a client, or supper is a spoonful of peanut butter,” muttered Dinah. She’d convinced a few merchants to post her flyer, but no one had come around. Maybe business would pick up this weekend.

  Glancing out the living room window, she sighed. An El Royo patrol car was parked in front. Again. Hollyn certainly wasn’t going to answer it. Dinah dug the pepper spray out of her purse before opening the door. Swope better behave like a gentleman or else.

  It was Rafe. She slipped the tiny canister of man-repellant into the back pocket of her cut-offs. “No wonder I don’t have any clients. The El Royo police department spends half its day parked in front of my house. I might have to open up a donut shop.”

  Rafe glowered at her. “That isn’t funny.”

  She stepped back to let him in. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take my frustration out on you.”

  As he stepped into the hallway, his breast pocket lit up, and the brassy clang of a rotary phone ringtone bounced off the walls. He pulled out his cell. His right knuckle was raw and scraped.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  “Nothing.” Rafe sent the call to voicemail and set the phone next to his Stetson.

  The thought came out of nowhere: He hit Swope. Her body turned warm and liquid. Not good. She put her hands on her hips and tried to look severe. “You didn’t hit Officer Swope, did you?”

  His mouth tightened. “This is an official visit. Do you have a few minutes?”

  She sighed theatrically. “Better come on in and sit down.”

  The walkie-talkie attached to his shoulder began to squawk. Unit 3, please respond to accident at 420 Alamo Drive.

  “Unit three responding.”

  “What’s your location and ETA?”

  “The 800 block of south Laredo. I’m en route. Five minutes.” Rafe grabbed his hat and pushed it down on his head. “I’ll be back later.”

  His cell still lay on the table. She stared at it longingly. “Hey, Rafe?”

  “I can’t talk now, Dinah.”

  She took a deep breath and held it. “Uh, can I borrow your phone?”

  “What do you—” He stopped. “No cell phone?”

  She grinned. “No service.”

  “Here.” He handed it to her. “Go crazy.” Then he tipped his hat and flew out of the house.

  She took the cell, still warm from his body, and curled up on the sofa. It had been nearly a month since her phone service was cut off, and the phone felt good in her hand. “Hello, civilization.”

  Pressing Rafe’s Contacts icon, she scrolled through the phone list until she found Esmeralda Morales. So Esme never married. Was it because of the “court of public opinion” Rafe referred to the other day? She’d been dying to know what happened to Esme, and why the Morales family was so protective of her. She even dared a trip to the library to look up old news stories. But Esme’s name didn’t turn up.

  Sometimes a girl had to take the bull by the horns if she wanted straight answers. She hit Esme’s number.

  “Rafe?
Is something wrong?” Esme’s voice vibrated with concern.

  Dinah swallowed hard and dove in. “Esme, it’s me. Dinah.” She waited for a click.

  “Where is Rafe?” Esme’s tone hardened.

  “He’s investigating a traffic accident. I borrowed his phone.” Now the click would come. But, again, it didn’t. There was a heavy silence. Dinah’s nervousness loosened.

  “Why are you calling me, Dinah?”

  Good question. “I’m not sure.”

  “If you think there’s anything you could say or do that would mean anything to me, think again.”

  Dinah wanted to reach through the phone with both hands and hug her old friend. “I want to be your friend.”

  “Really? Then why didn’t you ever call me after you left El Royo?”

  “I thought you were mad at me. Because I said I didn’t want to be your friend.”

  “I don’t believe you. I think you didn’t want to be seen with the town whore.”

  “You’re crazy! I’m the town whore. Remember? I’m the one who stripped in front of our high school class.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Esme? Are you there?”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Doing what? What are you talking about?”

  “You really don’t know what happened?”

  “Rafe said something the other day about you being hurt in the court of public opinion.”

  “Hang on a minute.” The whoosh of wind brushed against the phone.

  “Are you outside?”

  “I don’t want Brooke to hear.”

  “Brooke?”

  “My daughter.” The emptiness that had dogged Dinah wherever she went ballooned inside her. Esme had a daughter. She had a life that mattered to someone.

  “When did you have a baby?”

  “Eight-and-a-half months after you left.”

  “Is she Michael’s? You were engaged, right?”

  “It’s more complicated than that. Before I tell you what happened, you must promise me something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Be straight with me. I don’t want your sympathy. If you feel like hanging up, do it.”

  “Sure.” But she wouldn’t hang up. There was nothing Esme could ever do that would make Dinah hate her. A little thought fluttered up. She’d hated her daddy for what he did, but she immediately quashed the thought. This was different.

  Esme took a deep breath. “It happened right after you left. Most of the class was hanging out in the quarry, we were drinking, and I was feeling sorry for myself. My best friend in the whole world had packed her bags and left town without saying good-bye, plus Michael was going off to basic training at Fort Sill. I drank too much, and when Michael tried to take me home, I went a little crazy and picked a fight, so he drove off. I don’t remember much after that. Maybe it’s better.”

  Whore. Court of public opinion. Dinah saw where this was going. “Esme, you don’t have to—”

  “Let me get through this, Di. It’s my story.”

  “Sure, sweetie.”

  “Some of the guys had sex with me, or maybe a lot did. Apparently they took turns. I don’t remember any of it, but they said I wanted to, which is ridiculous. I was engaged, and Michael was the only guy I’d slept with. But it was the word of all those upstanding high school graduates against a drunken whore. Michael broke off the engagement the next day before I even knew what had happened. Eight-and-a-half months later, Brooke was born.”

  “Michael’s?”

  “I was pregnant when it happened. I never told him, and people assume it happened that night.”

  “Don’t you think he has a right to know?”

  “He died. Shot by a kid over in Iraq two days before Brooke was born.”

  “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. I’d have come back to be with you.”

  “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Di. It changed my life in good ways. I have my beautiful daughter. She’ll start second grade in the fall. I have a great career working with Papa and spending my days healing sick animals. Before the rape, I was just a girl with dreams of being a soldier’s wife and mom. I never even wanted to go to college. Just start right in with the housekeeping and baby making. I’ll probably never have a man in my life, but otherwise, everything is perfect.”

  “Why no man?” Like Dinah should talk. She’d dated every loser on the planet. Celibacy would have been a better option.

  Esme’s voice was solemn. “How can I ever trust a man after what happened?”

  “You trust Rafe and Dr. Ernesto.”

  “They love me because I am a sister and daughter to them. That’s different.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “Speaking of Rafe…are you two dating or something?”

  “No! Is that what Rafe said?”

  “Miss Peppie thinks you two are an item. Rafe never says anything. He’s a man.”

  Dinah giggled. Esme did, too.

  “We’re just friends,” said Dinah, then firmly changed the subject. “So you wouldn’t talk to me at the party because you didn’t think I wanted to talk to you.”

  “That and because I keep to myself. But you didn’t want to talk to me because you thought I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “I guess so.”

  Esme began to laugh. “We are both loco.”

  Dinah smiled. “No, we are both too good for this town.”

  She had one other call to make before Rafe returned.

  The number went directly to voicemail. Bastard!

  “You have reached the party line.” Brandon sounded drunk. As usual. In the background, a girl tittered.

  She deserved this. Hadn’t she done worse to the only decent guy she’d ever dated?

  “I’m off to Cancun for some R and R. Leave me a message. Maybe I’ll get back to you when I return to L.A.”

  She’d leave a message, all right. Hopefully one that would ruin his sweet little vacation with Lolita. “I want every last penny you took from my account, Brandon. All of it, or this time I’m pressing charges. No more second chances.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dinah looked different when she opened the door. Happier? It seemed that way to Rafe, but he could never tell with women. Sometimes they smiled, then kicked you in the balls.

  She handed over his phone with a little bow. “Thanks.”

  Which reminded him… “You need a phone.”

  Her hands went to her hips, her head tilted, and her right foot began to tap. She looked adorable when she was annoyed with him, and he steeled himself for the argument he was about to get from her. He liked that, too, although he didn’t want to. No more stubborn women.

  “I have a phone,” she said.

  “A phone with service. You’ve had a break-in. What if I hadn’t been there? What would you have done then?

  “Run.”

  “That boy who broke in was fast and strong enough to vault over a five-foot fence. He also had a mean-looking knife. Do you really think galloping off in your cowboy boots would discourage him if he wanted to hurt you?”

  The corners of her mouth inched up, and her foot stopped tapping. “Maybe not. But I’m not taking money from you, Rafe, so put that idea right out of your head.”

  He set his hat and phone down. “Let’s sit down. I have a few things to go over with you. We can talk more about the phone later.”

  He sat beside her, breathing in the soapy scent of her skin and enjoying the warmth of the female body just a few inches from his. Clearing his throat—and hopefully his brain—he got down to business.

  “The autopsy came back on Teke Cruz. He was murdered.”

  Her eyes widened. “I thought he fell off the bridge.” Gold flecks glimmering in the green irises. Strange. He hadn’t noticed them before.

  “It was only about six feet, and he was drunk. Must have landed like a rag doll. Not even a broken finger. Before he went over the railing, someone cut hi
s carotid artery. That detail is classified, by the way.” Rafe had debated with himself about letting loose about the knife wound on Teke’s neck. But it had to be from the same guy who broke into the house earlier in the evening, which meant Dinah could be in danger.

  “Sweet tea, you two?” Hollyn appeared in the doorway with glasses of iced tea balanced on a tray. Where had she been? Had she heard what he said to Dinah?

  “This is a private conversation,” he said.

  “Ooh, sorry.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll just set these cold drinks right down on the coffee table and be on my way.” With a giggle, she skittered out.

  “You were a little rough on her,” said Dinah, as Hollyn disappeared.

  He lowered his voice. “No one is supposed to know about the cut except the killer.”

  “And me.”

  “I’m worried about your safety. Someone out there has decided the money is still around, and you know where it is.”

  “Actually, there’s more than one someone who thinks that.” Dinah bent forward and picked up a glass. She wore a backless top tied in floppy bows at her neck and waist. His eyes traced the curve of her spine.

  “Who thinks you know where the money is?”

  “Gerry Sutton and Lonnie Bigsky.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, Mr. Gerry rode over here on his scooter the other day. He wants me to dig up the backyard and tear the house apart. He’s positive it’s here. And he wanted to know everything my daddy told me about the money. Which was nothing. I told him, but he didn’t believe me.”

  “What about Lonnie.”

  “He accused me of telling Teke where the money was.”

  Lonnie had been at the bridge when Teke was found. Rafe nodded slowly. “Anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “Just Mr. Gerry and Mr. Lonnie.”

  “Very good. I’ll follow up with them.” Lonnie first. Gerry Sutton could barely walk much less vault over fences and push able-bodied men off bridges.

  Dinah’s expression grew speculative.

  “Anything else?” he said. “Even if it seems inconsequential to you, it might fit the bigger puzzle.”

  Her brow still creased and troubled, she shook her head slowly. “It’s probably nothing.”