To Catch a Thief

by Sherryl Woods

  Gina glanced toward the door and spotted Emma striding toward them, her expression grim.

  “What’s wrong?” Gina asked, regarding her with concern.

  “One of my major clients in Denver has a problem. He wants me back there tonight.”

  “Are you going?” Lauren asked.

  “What choice do I have?”

  “You could tell him that you’re taking the first break you’ve had in years and that he can just wait until Monday,” Lauren retorted heatedly. “Sweetie, if you don’t start looking out for yourself, who will? Certainly not those partners who are raking in big bucks from all those billable hours you put in each month, and certainly not the clients who see nothing wrong in tracking you down when you’re supposed to be on vacation. How did he get your cell phone number, anyway?”

  “All my clients have my cell phone number,” Emma said defensively.

  Lauren removed the offending item from Emma’s grasp. “Which is a really good reason for shutting it off and letting me hang on to it for the rest of the weekend. If you’d like, I can call this client of yours back and tell him that you’ve consulted your schedule and you are tied up in a very important negotiation and can’t see him until the middle of next week. If it’s a real emergency, he can speak to one of the other partners.”

  Emma stared at her in amazement. “You sound so convincing.”

  Gina chuckled. “She is an actress, Emma.”

  Emma shook her head. “Of course, she is. I just can’t quite think of Lauren as anything other than the girl who used to spend the night at my house talking about boys until dawn.”

  “I had to talk about them. I certainly never dated them,” Lauren said.

  “Because you scared them to death. You were the smartest person in our class,” Gina said. “That was very daunting, even to the boys with a B average.”

  “A fat lot of good that’s doing me these days,” Lauren grumbled. “Most of the people I deal with now don’t even realize I have a brain.”

  “Which must mean that they underestimate you,” Emma guessed. “Surely you can use that to your advantage.”

  “Maybe you two can trade services,” Gina suggested. “Lauren can fend off your pushy, inconsiderate clients, and Emma, you can negotiate Lauren’s deals. Nobody ever mistakes you for a pushover.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Lauren said thoughtfully. “But we still haven’t resolved this current situation. Shall I make the call?”

  Emma hesitated. “Let me think about it.”

  Gina thought of what Lauren had said earlier about Emma’s little girl. “Emma, think about Caitlyn. She’s having the time of her life with her cousins and her grandparents. Do you want to spoil that by running home early?”

  Emma blinked at the reminder, proof that she too seldom considered her daughter’s feelings when work was involved. Then she drew herself up. “You’re absolutely right. Lauren, make that call. Tell Mr. Henley that he can contact one of the senior partners if he doesn’t want to wait for me to get back.”

  Lauren beamed at her. “Punch in that number,” she said, relinquishing the cell phone temporarily to Emma.

  As soon as the call had gone through, she stepped away from Emma and Gina, speaking quietly but firmly to the offensive Mr. Henley. After she’d hung up, she came back smiling.

  “He’ll wait. By the way, what was that big emergency, or can’t you say?”

  Emma grinned. “I can’t say, but I can assure you that it wasn’t life or death. Nor were any of his millions at risk.” She reached for her cell phone, but Lauren shook her head.

  “I think I’ll hang on to this, at least for the rest of the night,” she told Emma.

  “But Caitlyn—”

  “If Caitlyn calls, I know where to find you. Otherwise, your new secretary can handle anything that comes up.”

  Gina chuckled. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Lauren?”

  “It’s actually rather nice to do something so ordinary. Maybe I should chuck it all and become somebody’s secretary. I have terrific organizational skills.”

  Both Emma and Gina stared at her.

  “Have you lost it?” Gina asked.

  “Okay, maybe not a secretary,” Lauren said. “Organizational skills aside, I’m a little too bossy to take orders well.”

  “An understatement if ever I heard one,” Gina said.

  Lauren sighed. “You know who I really envy? Karen. She has it all. A husband who adores her and a ranch.”

  “Where she works too hard,” Gina pointed out.

  “I guess nothing’s perfect, is it?” Lauren said. She glanced behind Gina. “For example, you have this absolutely gorgeous man staring at you as if you were more tempting than a banana split, and for reasons you refuse to explain, you’re avoiding the guy.”

  All three of them turned to stare at Rafe, who was sipping on his drink, his gaze fixed on Gina.

  “He’s not interested in me,” she protested. “Not the way you mean, anyway.”

  “That kiss I heard about says otherwise,” Lauren said. “In fact, that kiss speaks volumes.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Kiss, what kiss? That man kissed you? Did you want him to?”

  “No,” Gina said. “Yes.”

  A slow grin replaced the indignation on Emma’s face. “Not sure, are you?”

  “Of course I’m sure. That kiss was totally inappropriate.”

  “We can sue him for sexual harassment,” Emma suggested, looking a little too eager.

  “Settle down,” Gina advised. “Nobody is suing anybody, and you are not taking on any cases in the middle of a dance, not after Lauren worked so hard to make sure you had the night off.”

  “I suppose not,” Emma said, clearly disappointed. “But let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Do you look at everything in life in terms of the legalities?” Lauren asked her.

  “Pretty much,” Emma acknowledged.

  “That has to stop,” Lauren said emphatically, then glanced at Gina. “And you and I have to see to it. Find this woman someone to dance with. Are there any eligible males in the room? Other than Gina’s guy, of course.”

  “Rafe O’Donnell is not my guy,” Gina reminded her. “I’d be glad to turn him over to Emma.”

  “Whatever.” Lauren surveyed the gym carefully. Finally her expression brightened triumphantly. “There,” she said. “He’ll do very nicely.” She snagged Emma’s hand. “Come on. Do you know him?”

  “No,” Emma said, hanging back.

  “Then I’ll introduce you,” Lauren said.

  “Do you know him?” Emma asked.

  “No, but that’s a technicality. Don’t be a spoilsport. It’s one dance, not the rest of your life.”

  Emma cast a totally uncharacteristically helpless glance over her shoulder as Lauren dragged her away.

  “I see your friend is matchmaking again,” Rafe said, coming up beside Gina and startling her so badly she almost dropped her drink. “Think she’ll have better luck with those two?”

  “Don’t do that,” she said irritably.

  “What?”

  “Sneak up on me.” She avoided his gaze, pretending that his nearness wasn’t stirring up all sorts of wicked memories of the kiss they’d shared earlier. She deliberately watched the drama unfolding as Lauren introduced Emma to the stranger, then left them to their own devices. After an awkward moment the man must have asked her to dance, because Emma allowed him to lead her to the middle of the gym. Neither of them looked especially happy about being there, but Lauren stood by beaming her approval.

  Apparently satisfied, Lauren came back to where Gina and Rafe were standing. Gina noticed she deliberately inserted herself protectively between them. Rafe noted her action with amusement.

  “Still protecting your friend, I see,” he said.

  “Of course.”

  “Trust me, she can defend herself. Did you hear how she doused me with ice earlier today, then made me hike all the
way back into town?”

  Gina regarded him with indignation. “I did not! You decided to walk back. I tried to stop you.”

  Lauren looked from one to the other, lips twitching. “But the part about the ice was true? Did that happen before or after the kiss?”

  Rafe didn’t seem the least bit surprised or embarrassed by the fact that Lauren knew about that. “Before.”

  “Interesting. I would have thought after.” She grinned. “You know, an attempt to cool you off, so to speak.”

  “It would have taken more than a cup of ice to do that,” Rafe said.

  Lauren waved her hand as if it held a fan. “Oh, my.”

  Gina scowled at both of them. “If you two are enjoying yourselves so much, why don’t I just leave? There are a lot of people here I haven’t spoken to yet.”

  Before she could take a step, Rafe grabbed her hand. “Not now. I was hoping for another dance lesson.”

  She frowned at him. “The band’s not playing country-western tonight. It’s playing oldies. Surely you can slow-dance. Lauren, you dance with him.”

  “Afraid not,” Rafe insisted with a perfectly straight face. “No offense, Lauren, but Gina’s a little more patient with my stumbling attempts. Dancing is one of those social graces I never had time to learn. Too much studying. It made me a very dull kid.”

  “Then I’m amazed so many women invite you to society balls,” Lauren chimed in, drawing a startled look from both Gina and Rafe.

  “How do you know that?” Gina demanded.

  Lauren grinned. “The Internet is an amazing thing. You’d be surprised what you can find out. I only scanned a few editions of the New York papers, and guess whose name popped up over and over in the society columns?”

  Rafe regarded her with admiration. “I underestimated you, after all, Lauren.”

  “Many people do,” Gina said. “Lauren, I think maybe you and I need to have a little talk.”

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough. There’s a handsome man who’s eager to dance with you. My hunch is he knows his right foot from his left, despite what he says.”

  She winked at Rafe, then added for Gina’s benefit, “Just keep your guard up, sweetie. From what I’ve read about him, you don’t want to cross him.”

  Unfortunately, Gina was already well aware of that.

  Chapter Four

  Since the whole purpose of coming to Winding River had been to clear her head and decide what to do to save her restaurant, Gina awoke at what she considered to be the unholy hour of 7:00 a.m. on Sunday morning determined to get on with that assignment. The only way she was able to drag herself out of bed was by reminding herself that it was nine in the morning in New York.

  With Rafe turning up almost everywhere she went, the only way she was going to have any time to herself was to sneak out of her own house and take a drive into the nearby Snowy Range, where distractions were few and far between. And she had to do it before he turned up to accompany her or trail along behind like some sort of watchdog.

  A glance outside told her it was the perfect day for going for a drive and then maybe even a hike. The sky was a crystal-clear blue with floating puffs of white clouds. The temperature had dropped overnight and promised to stay lower throughout the day. And there were no reunion events until the picnic at midday.

  But before she could make her escape, she bumped straight into her parents, lingering over Sunday breakfast in the kitchen. They regarded her with surprise, no doubt because they so rarely saw her before noon.

  “What on earth are you doing up so early, darling?” her mother asked. “You had a late night. It was after midnight when I heard you come in. How was the dance?”

  Gina thought of the time she’d spent in Rafe’s arms. For a man who’d professed to have no skill on the dance floor at all, he’d been astonishingly adept at everything from the waltz to the twist. Apparently it was only the Texas two-step that eluded him, despite his pitiful claim that he’d had no time for dances as a younger man. When she’d called him on it, he’d simply shrugged and insisted he was only following her lead.

  As if, she thought dryly. She doubted he’d ever let anyone get a head start on him, much less lead him anywhere. She sighed at that. It was something she needed to keep in mind.

  “The dance was fine,” she said.

  “Meet anyone interesting?” her mother asked, her expression just a little too innocent.

  “What have you heard?” Gina asked, regarding her with resignation.

  Her father frowned. “Yes, Jane, what have you heard? I’d like to know, too.”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes, it’s nothing shocking,” her mother said with a hint of exasperation. “Rose Ellen just happened to mention that Gina was with an incredibly handsome man at the rodeo yesterday afternoon.”

  George Petrillo seemed no more convinced by that innocuous explanation than Gina was.

  “And?” he prodded.

  “The man kissed me,” Gina blurted, hoping to save them all the embarrassment of a long, drawn-out debate. “It was nothing.”

  Her mother grinned. “That’s not the way I heard it. Rose Ellen said it made her toes curl.”

  “Jane Petrillo, I hope you weren’t discussing your daughter’s lack of discretion with half the town,” her father said, his expression dismayed. As the owner of the local insurance company, he tended to worry first about what his customers might think. Gina had done enough outrageous, risky things with the Calamity Janes in high school to turn his hair gray. He always swore he’d taken out extra accident and liability insurance on the family just because of her dangerous shenanigans.

  “No, of course not,” Jane said, giving him a soothing pat on the hand. “Just Rose Ellen. She brought it up. I must say I found it fascinating.” She turned to Gina. “I had no idea you’d brought a fellow home for the reunion. Why haven’t we met him?”

  “I didn’t bring him. He’s not here for the reunion. And you haven’t met him because I sincerely wish that I’d never met him,” Gina said, reaching for the car keys, even though the drive no longer held much appeal. “I’m going out.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know, but I won’t be long.”

  She walked out before they could pester her with more questions. As she paused on the back steps to take a deep, calming breath, she heard her mother ask, “What do you suppose is going on?”

  “I have no idea,” her father said grumpily. “But I’m sure half the town will know about it before we do. That’s what comes from letting her go off and spend all that time in Europe. She’s come home with a lot of wild ideas.”

  “Oh, she has not,” her mother said, then added wistfully, “I just hope there is something more to this. Wouldn’t it be nice to see her married? I can’t wait till we have a houseful of grandchildren to spoil.”

  Gina’s groan was almost as heartfelt as her father’s. The speculation about her and Rafe O’Donnell was getting entirely out of hand and he’d only been in town a couple of days. Right now all he was doing was shadowing her—okay, and kissing her in public. Just wait till people around here found out what he was really after.

  Rafe drove by the Petrillo house about 7:45 a.m. There was no sign of Gina, though from what he’d gathered, she was not exactly a morning person. Still, he found the fact that her mother’s car was missing this early on a Sunday vaguely worrisome. Had Gina taken off in it? Would her mother conspire to help her daughter skip town? Leave the country? Maybe that remark Gina had made the day before about fleeing to Canada had been no joke.

  Because he hated the way his imagination was running wild, he concluded the best way to get to the truth would be to knock on the door and ask to see her. For all he knew, the entire family might be at church, though most had services that began later.

  When a woman he assumed to be Mrs. Petrillo answered the door, he understood where Gina got her beauty. Her mother was probably in her late forties, maybe even her early fifties, but she looked a decad
e younger. There wasn’t a single strand of gray in her thick, dark hair. There was hardly a wrinkle on her heart-shaped face. But while her daughter’s eyes were dark, Mrs. Petrillo’s were a vibrant green, and they were studying him with undisguised curiosity.

  “May I help you?” she asked, when Rafe remained speechless.

  He gathered his composure. “Actually, I’m looking for your daughter, Mrs. Petrillo. Is she here?”

  “Ah,” she said, her expression brightening. “You must be the mysterious man everyone is talking about.”

  “I’m Rafe O’Donnell,” he said, taken aback by the friendly welcome. Obviously, the people talking were those who’d witnessed the kiss, and not Gina herself. He doubted she had painted him in a favorable light.

  “My husband and I are just having a second cup of coffee, Mr. O’Donnell. Will you join us? Gina left a little while ago, but she shouldn’t be gone long.”

  Never one to turn down caffeine or the chance to pump someone for information about Gina, he smiled. “I’d love a cup.”

  In the cheerful, yellow kitchen with its warm oak cupboards and white trim, she introduced Rafe to her husband and invited him to make himself at home.

  “Were your ears burning?” she asked. “We were talking about you not fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Is that so?” he asked warily. “What did Gina have to say?”

  “Not much, which is why I’m so glad you dropped by. You’re not local, are you? How do you know our daughter?”

  Now there was a minefield, Rafe thought. “Actually, I’m from New York.”

  “So, you and Gina met there?” George Petrillo asked, regarding Rafe with suspicion.

  “Not exactly.”

  The vague response clearly stirred more suspicion on her father’s part. “We don’t get a lot of New Yorkers around here. How did you happen to choose Winding River for a vacation?”

  “Actually I’m working.”

  George’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not some fool movie producer, are you? They come crawling around here all the time these days, paying outrageous amounts for property. If it keeps up, the next thing we know we won’t be able to afford to live in our own hometown.”