Downright Dangerous

by Beverly Barton

"Spoken like a true diplomat, like a lady of breeding and intelligence. Miss Nella would be proud of you."

  Taking Rafe's comment as a backhanded compliment, Elsa huffed. "What's your problem? Did some rich old woman run over your tricycle when you were a little boy? Did some rich kid in school get the girl you wanted? Ex­plain to me this unnatural aversion you have to money . . .to people with money."

  An odd expression crossed his face, and for a moment Elsa wondered if she had actually struck a nerve. Her com­ment hadn't been aimed to hurt him. Oh, mercy, what if there was some horrible event in his past that had given him good reason to feel the way he did.

  "Don't answer that," she said. "It's none of my busi­ness."

  "We both seem to be very good at that, don't we— butting our noses into each other's personal lives?"

  "I apologize. No more personal questions." She reached out and pulled the newspaper across the table.

  "I was a Knoxville cop before I became a Dundee agent," Rafe told her.

  She picked up the newspaper and pretended to be inter­ested in the front-page headlines, which in actuality blurred together because she was concentrating on the print so hard. "You don't have to tell me anything about your—"

  "You're right, I don't have to tell you anything, but maybe we should be more up-front with each other about who we are, where we come from and why we're the way we are. It could be one way to defuse this sexual time bomb ticking between us."

  She opened her mouth to deny that there was anything between them, least of all a sexual time bomb. But the look in his eyes, daring her to lie to herself and to him, stopped her. She nodded. "Go ahead. Maybe it's worth a try."

  "I was a pretty wild kid," Rafe said. "Quite a bit like Troy, as a matter of fact."

  "Why does that not surprise me?"

  Rafe grinned. "I ran with the wrong crowd, got mixed up with drugs and drove my big sister crazy."

  "Your big sister?" She noticed that he hadn't said "my parents."

  Answering her unasked question, he said, "My folks were killed in a car crash, and that left my older sister alone to look out for me. I gave her holy hell." A somber expression saddened his features. "It's something I've al­ways regretted. I'd give anything if I could make it up to Sandy, but unfortunately she. . ." He glanced at Elsa. "You would have liked Sandy. You'd have a lot in com­mon."

  Elsa realized that Sandy must have died. Oh, poor Rafe. How sad that he never got the chance to make amends to his sister.

  Rafe cleared his throat. "I digress." He forced a smile. "A Knoxville police detective, Roy Dutton, took an inter­est in me and helped me turn my life around. If not for Roy, I might well have ended up in prison."

  "I understand now why you took such an interest in Troy back in St. Camille, why you helped him when he was nothing more than a stranger to you." Elsa tossed aside the newspaper, reached across the table and placed her hand over Rafe's. "You're a good man."

  He looked down at her hand atop his, then flipped their hands over and grasped hers. "Her name was Kendra Gra­ham. She was an up-and-coming lawyer in Knoxville. Her folks were upper middle class. Not rich, but comfortable. Kendra had big ambitions. She worked in the D.A.'s office and we met working on the same case. We were attracted immediately, started dating, became lovers and I asked her to marry me."

  Elsa wasn't sure she wanted to hear anything else about Kendra or Rafe's love affair with the woman. But curiosity overcame the jealousy she felt. "Something went wrong?"

  "You could say that." Rafe's gaze focused on the wall behind Elsa, as if for some reason he didn't want to look her in the eye. "I thought the lady was in love with me, that she'd be happy being a cop's wife, but I was wrong."

  So that was it, Elsa realized. Rafe had been in love with a woman who had undoubtedly left him for a richer man, probably someone very wealthy and socially prominent. His dislike of Ellison Mays and Harry Colburn made more sense now. "If she'd really loved you, the fact that you aren't rich wouldn't have mattered to her. Count yourself lucky that she left you for another man. You're better off without her."

  Another strange look crossed Rafe's face, then he grinned. "You're right about that. I am better off without her." He squeezed Elsa's hand. "Tell me, would you choose a rich man over a poor man?"

  She jerked her hand away. "Is that a hypothetical ques­tion?"

  "Sure. So, let's say that you could marry Harry Colburn or me, who would you choose?"

  "That's an unfair question," she told him, her heart fluttering madly at the thought of marrying Rafe.

  "Why is it unfair? You've admitted that your relation­ship with good old Harry is in the beginning stages, so that makes the two of us pretty even as far as that goes."

  "I don't know how to answer you."

  "Try."

  "I'd marry the man I loved."

  Rafe eyed her skeptically. "Would you really? Even if the man you loved was poor and had absolutely no social standing?"

  Elsa shoved back her chair, got up and went to the pan­try. After removing a box of corn flakes, she returned to the table and faced Rafe. "Good grief, this is silly."

  Rafe stood up, rounded the table and got right in Elsa's face. She swallowed. "Why is it silly?"

  "Because—well, because. . . If you and I were in love and you asked me to marry you, I'd say yes. There, does that answer your question?''

  "But what if Harry asked you to marry him, too?"

  "If I loved you, why would I marry Harry?" Elsa stomped her foot. "This is totally ridiculous and you know it. You're baiting me again, tormenting me because you think I'm like your ex-fiancée. Well, I'm not. You're the one with problems, mister, not me. You have commitment issues, and now I know why."

  She slammed the box of corn flakes down on the table so hard that the lid popped open. "Oh, you'd like to have sex with me—diddle me—but that's it. You find me in­triguing because I'm different. That's it, isn't it? You men can smell a virgin a mile away, can't you? Don't think I don't know what would happen. We'd become lovers while you're my bodyguard, then once this assignment ended, it would be hail and farewell. See you around, kid. It was nice, but it was just one of those things.

  "Well, thank you but no thank you. I want a lot more than that. I want a commitment. You know that thing you're so damn scared of. I want a marriage proposal and a wedding ring and a home and family and growing old together. Yes, I want security. So sue me! I want a man who'll work hard and make a good living, work alongside me to build a good life together. And if we have children, I want us to be good parents. Good citizens. Socially ac­ceptable. I never want a child of mine to be ashamed of me or my husband!"

  While Rafe stood there staring at Elsa, his mouth agape, the kitchen door swung open and Troy came into the room, bleary-eyed and yawning.

  "What the heck's going on down here?" He looked right at Elsa. "I could hear you screeching all the way upstairs. Has something happened?"

  She wanted to die on the spot. She'd made a fool of herself, ranting and raving. With Troy and Rafe staring at her as if her hair was on fire, she tossed back her shoulders, tilted her chin and glanced from one to the other.

  "Nothing has happened," she said. "Rafe and I were just settling a difference of opinion, weren't we, Rafe?"

  "Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah."

  "Must have been some difference of opinion to have gotten you so riled up, sis. You haven't carried on that much since the last time I screwed up." Troy eyed Rafe. "What the hell—heck did you do, man? It takes a lot to set off Elsa's mild temper."

  "Elsa has a mild temper?" Rafe asked, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  "Usually," Troy replied.

  "Maybe I bring out the worst in her."

  "Nah, it's just sexual tension," Troy said.

  "Troy!" Elsa's eyes widened in horror.

  "Oh, don't get upset, sis. It's obvious to everybody that you two create so much electricity whenever you're in the same room that you could light up all o
f Maysville."

  Rafe chuckled. Elsa glared at him.

  "I'm going upstairs to shower and get dressed," Elsa told them. "You two boys—" and she emphasized the word boys "—have all the fun at my expense that you'd like while I'm out of earshot. But when I come back down­stairs, we're going to pretend none of this ever happened and nothing was said. Understood?"

  "Yeah, understood," Troy replied.

  "I've forgotten already," Rafe said.

  "You two are an awful lot alike, you know," she told them.

  "I get the feeling that wasn't a compliment." Rafe grinned.

  Elsa groaned, turned around and got away as fast as her two legs would carry her.

  Frank Latimer woke languidly, feeling like a man who'd died and gone to heaven. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent such an enjoyable night in a woman's bed. Man, was Leenie Patton hot. Not only was she beautiful, but she was talented. No inhibitions. All woman. Earthy, sexy and daring. He woke with a hard-on, which even at forty he often did. But considering they'd made love three times—used up his supply of condoms—he still wanted her. He reached out to her side of the bed and found it empty. Where was she? Then he heard the shower running. Whipping back the covers, he got out of bed. Maybe he'd join her. But before he got halfway across the room, he heard a phone ringing and realized by the distinct melody it played that it was his cell phone. Glancing around on the floor, he searched for his jacket. Where the hell was it? Then he remembered he'd shed that particular garment in the dining room early this morning. Stark naked, he raced out of the bedroom, through the house and into the dining room. After retrieving his phone from his coat pocket he hit the On button. "Latimer here."

  "Where are you, Frank?'' Kate Malone asked. "Do you know what time it is?''

  "I don't have the foggiest."

  "It's nearly eight o'clock. I'm already at WJMM. Daisy has faxed us some updated info from Dundee's. I thought we should go over it before Elsa and Rafe arrive this morn­ing."

  "Look, I'll be running a bit late. Why don't you go ahead and—"

  "Where are you?"

  Frank heard Leenie as she walked barefoot into the din­ing room. She stood in the doorway, fresh from her shower. Clean and creamy pink. And completely naked, her long blonde hair wet and shiny.

  Frank gulped. "I, er, I'm in heaven, Kate. That's where I am."

  "Well, finish up with whatever angel's giving you the grand tour and come back to earth. ASAP."

  "I'll meet you in about an hour."

  He didn't wait for Kate's response. He hit the Off button and dropped the phone on the floor atop his jacket. Leenie smiled seductively. He all but ran to her, lifted her off her feet and swung her up into his arms, then headed straight back to the bedroom.

  When Elsa returned downstairs, dressed for business and with her emotions fully under control, she found Rafe waiting for her in the living room.

  "Where's Troy?"

  "He grabbed a Danish and a cup of coffee and headed out," Rafe replied. "He said to tell you that he's going to a party tonight and will be staying over with a buddy, so he won't be home until sometime late tomorrow."

  "Did he say what buddy? Did he leave a number?"

  "Nope."

  Elsa huffed.

  "Give the kid a break. He's twenty, not twelve."

  "He's a twenty-year-old with a past history of trouble. Drugs, alcohol and several arrests."

  "You've got to trust him, Elsa. The kid has turned his life around and he's pretty much walking the straight and narrow."

  "I'm not going to argue with you. But keep in mind that Troy is my brother, my responsibility. Not yours."

  The doorbell rang. Elsa tensed.

  "I'll get it." Rafe headed toward the foyer.

  Elsa opened her purse and checked to make sure she had everything she needed. Her keys. Her cell phone. Her wallet. Whenever she changed purses, the way she had this morning, she always did a thorough check.

  Rafe returned to the living room carrying an enormous bouquet—probably two dozen hot pink roses. "There's a card," he said. "But my guess is that Mr. Man-About-Town Colburn sent them."

  "Aren't they beautiful. Put them on the table by the window, please."

  "Sure thing." When he passed by her, Rafe yanked off the attached card and handed it to her. She took the card, then grasped his arm and leaned over to sniff the roses.

  "Oh, they smell heavenly."

  Rafe grunted.

  Elsa opened the card and read it aloud. "Looking for­ward to our date tonight. Harry."

  "Just Harry?" Rafe asked. "Not 'Love, Harry'?"

  The telephone rang. Rafe crossed the room and picked up the receiver. "Leone residence. Yes. Sure. Just a mo­ment, please." He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "It's some woman named Hutchins. Says she's from the Bauer Academy. Isn't that where your sister—"

  Elsa grabbed the phone out of Rafe's hand. "Yes, hello, this is Elsa Leone."

  "Miss Leone, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I felt you should know—"

  "Is Milly all right?"

  "Milly is fine."

  Elsa sighed with relief. "Then what's wrong?"

  "Milly has received a rather odd gift," Mrs. Hutchins said. "I'm probably overreacting, but the florist just deliv­ered a wreath and the card is addressed to Miss Milly Leone."

  "A wreath? What kind of wreath?"

  "A funeral wreath. There's even a ribbon draped across the wreath that has the words 'Rest in peace' stamped on it."

  "Oh, God, no!"

  Rafe clamped his hand down on Elsa's shoulder. "What is it?"

  "Ms. Hutchins, please don't leave Milly alone for a sec­ond," Elsa said. "I'm coming straight there. And please make sure no one is allowed anywhere near my sister."

  "Miss Leone, you're frightening me. What on earth

  is—"

  "Please, just do as I ask. I'll be there as soon as pos­sible." Elsa hung up the receiver and turned to Rafe.

  "Someone sent Milly a funeral wreath with the words 'Rest in peace' printed on a ribbon draped across it. You know what this means, don't you? He's targeted my help­less little sister. Whoever is after me is threatening Milly."

  Rafe grasped her shoulders. "Calm down, honey. We'll head out to Memphis right away. You drive and I'll make some phone calls on the way. The first call will be to the MPD. I'll have them send somebody over to the Bauer Academy immediately."

  "Oh, Rafe, I never considered this possibility. What sort of monster would threaten a sweet, gentle, mentally hand­icapped child?"

  Rafe put his arm around Elsa and held her close. "It's going to be all right. I promise you that nobody is going to hurt Milly. We'll bring in another Dundee agent to guard her. Leave it to me. I'll take care of everything."

  Chapter 9

  By the time they reached Collierville, just outside of Memphis, Rafe had already made more than half a dozen phone calls. First he'd contacted the Memphis Police De­partment and, using Sam Dundee's name as an entree, had spoken to the chief himself. Chief McGraw had assured Rafe a policewoman would be assigned as a personal guard for Milly Leone until a Dundee agent was put in place. Next he'd phoned Kate to update her on the situa­tion—she and Frank needed to know what had happened and why he and Elsa were en route to the River City. After several attempts to contact Troy, he'd given up for the time being. Rafe had done his best to reassure Elsa that Troy was all right, that there was probably a good explanation for why he wasn't answering his cell phone. To soothe Elsa's worries Rafe had called Kate back and asked that she and Frank try to run down Troy's whereabouts. He'd then spoken to Jed Tyree and his wife, Grace, and they had agreed to pay for extra Dundee agents to guard Elsa's family. His final phone call had been to WJMM, to let the staff know Elsa wouldn't be in to work today.

  As Elsa zipped her Honda at breakneck speed from Maysville, across western Mississippi, Rafe hoped they wouldn't be stopped by the highway patrol for speeding. He wasn't sure using the Dundee calling card
would afford them any leeway with a state trooper, one who had prob­ably never heard of the prestigious, Atlanta-based Dundee Agency. As he waited for his final phone call to go through, he watched Elsa out of the corner of his eye. She gripped the steering wheel with bone-crushing tension, her knuckles almost white from the pressure. Her delicate fa­cial features were pinched and tight, her jaw clenched. A mama tiger, her maternal instincts taking charge, she was rushing to the defense of her baby sister. There was some­thing quite admirable and undeniably endearing about a woman who possessed such powerful maternal instincts. Rafe had never really thought about it much, but seeing the intensity consuming Elsa, he realized that a lot of the women he'd known didn't possess that protective, moth­ering gene. In retrospect, he knew that his sister, Sandy, had, but that his own mother had not.

  "Dundee Agency," Daisy, the firm's office manager an­swered. "Ms. Holbrook speaking. How may I help you?"

  "Daisy, this is Rafe Devlin. I need to speak to Sawyer."

  "He's in a meeting right now. Can this wait?"

  "No, it can't. At least not for long. I need three more agents on this case—one sent to Memphis, another to Lou­isiana and the third flown in to Maysville."

  "What's happened?" Daisy asked.

  "A threat against Elsa Leone's siblings."

  "I see. So you want a Dundee agent with each sibling."

  "Right."

  "Hold on a minute and I'll see if Sawyer can take your call right now."

  Elsa cast a quick glance Rafe's way. "Is there a prob­lem?"

  "No problem. I just have to okay this with the boss."

  Elsa nodded, then refocused on the road.

  "Rafe?" Sawyer McNamara possessed a commanding yet cordial voice with the power of a velvet-covered iron hammer.

  "Yeah. Look, I need three agents, one to guard each of Elsa Leone's siblings." Rafe explained about the threat sent to Milly. "Do we have three people available? A fe­male for the youngest sister, if possible."

  "I've got two I can put on the Dundee jet by noon and I'll come up with another by tonight. I can send J.J. to Memphis for the youngest sister and Lucie to Louisiana for the other sister. Tell Frank to find the brother and keep him under surveillance until I come up with somebody. We have a new man who's just finishing up his Dundee training. This could be a good way for him to get his feet wet in the business."