by Debra Cowan
“We’ll keep an eye out for Ape Boy.” He noticed her eyes showed no sign of the hurt that he’d dealt her. They were cool, even remote, but he remembered the bleak sharpness there. “As for Liz, we don’t want to lead Alexander’s goon to her and Tony, so we can go to a dummy bank and throw him off their trail. Or we can stay here.”
“Let’s go to the bank,” she said quickly, gathering her purse and travel bag, then moving to the door.
She said the same thing he would’ve. Staying in this room, cornered by guilt and second thoughts, would be impossible for him. Evidently for her, too.
He slid his gun into the waistband of his black jeans and picked up the room’s phone book along with his bag as he walked out. They could choose an alternate bank in the car.
They rode down in the elevator, the silence abrasive and thick. Rafe slid a look at her features, composed, guarded.
“I’m really sorry, Kit. About last night.”
“Oh, look, we’re here,” she said brightly, practically clawing the door open and hurrying into the lobby.
He snagged her elbow, turned her to face him. “We need to talk about this.”
She stared at him, anger and hurt warring in her eyes. She sighed. “Can we talk later? Take care of this first?”
“Yes.” He released her even though he didn’t want to. “And we will talk, all right?”
“All right.”
They paid for their room. Rafe paused at the hotel’s double glass doors and scanned the parking lot before proceeding outside. “I don’t see the silver sedan or Baldy.”
“That’s good, right?” Subdued, Kit walked beside him, her gaze sweeping the lot carefully.
“Yes, but the guy’s not an idiot.” He unlocked her door, then took her bag and put it in his small trunk along with his luggage. “He won’t get that close again. He may have even switched cars. He knows we’d make that sedan in a heartbeat.”
Once in the ’Vette, Kit directed him to a bank on the other side of town. The moderate population was spread over wheat fields interspersed with strip malls and grocery stores. The silence built around them, echoing with hurt and regret. He kept seeing the devastation on her face this morning when he’d turned away from her.
Just as they pulled into the parking lot of Farmer’s Home Bank, her cell phone rang.
She leaned close so he could hear as she answered.
“Kit!” Liz shrieked, sounding hysterical.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Kit demanded. “Are you guys okay?”
“The money! Where’s the money?”
Kit shot Rafe a panicked look; he swung into a parking space and put the car in Park.
“You didn’t get it?” she asked Liz.
“No!”
“I had it wired from Wexler.” Kit held the phone close to Rafe’s ear. “I’ll make a call—”
“It’s too late. We’ve already left Grady City.”
He could feel the warmth from Kit’s scalp; her soft hair brushed against his cheek. Setting his jaw, he narrowed his focus to the phone call only.
“Why did you leave?” Kit asked sharply. “If you’d stay in one place long enough, you could get the money.”
“I’m not the one who messed this up,” her sister reminded acidly.
Rafe wanted to take the phone and tell Liz to simmer down, but he didn’t.
“I’m still in Grady City.” Kit shifted beside him, her shoulder nudging his. Her scent drifted around him. “I can go to the bank right now, make sure the wire gets to you this time.”
“We really need the money, sis. The bank said they never received wire instructions at all.”
“I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t know. I can send it to you now; just tell me where.”
“Okay, Tony says we can stop before we get to where we’re going. Remember that year we went to Yellowstone?”
“Yes.” She’d been thirteen, Liz ten. The year before Mom had died.
“And the car broke down in Colorado? That old brown Fairlane?” Liz asked.
“Yes,” Kit said with visible relief. “You’re going to the town where we had it serviced.”
“Right, but only for a couple of hours. You can send the money there.” She gave Kit the name of a local bank.
Rafe nodded, giving Kit a thumbs-up. He couldn’t stop a flare of admiration at the way she calmed her sister down.
“I’ll make sure it goes through this time, Liz. Call me after you get it.”
“Tony doesn’t think I should. We’re heading for a cabin not far from there, and you won’t hear from me for a while. He’s sweeping the hard drive, and he has almost everything he needs off Alexander’s computer.”
Rafe shook his head, mouthing, “No. Tell her not to break contact.”
“Liz, please call. At least to let me know you’re all right.”
“I can’t promise. Bye.” And she hung up.
Kit did the same, sighing loudly. “I guess we need to go to the bank and make sure the money goes through this time.”
Rafe nodded, reversing out of the space and turning onto the main avenue. “So, where do you send the money?”
She pulled away from him, stuffed her cell phone in her purse. “A bank in Pueblo.”
“But they’re not staying. They’re heading for a cabin somewhere?”
“Yeah, a cabin in Colorado. Like nobody has one of those. How are we going to figure that out?” Kit asked wryly. “She said she might or might not call.”
Rafe drummed his fingers on the wheel. “If they’re planning to stay there a while, maybe that’s where they were headed all along.”
She shot him a thoughtful look. “And Liz did say they didn’t want to leave a straight trail to where they were going, which would explain all their zigzagging.”
“Right.”
“So maybe,” Kit said slowly, “this is the information Eddie Sanchez had. This is what got him killed?”
“Very likely. And maybe he knew about this cabin because it belonged to him.”
“Do you think?”
The possibility put a hint of life in her eyes, more color in her cheeks than she’d had all morning. “Could be. Once we get to Pueblo, we can check it out.”
“How?”
“I’ll do a property search on the Internet.” He stopped at a light, pointed through the intersection. “We’ll stop at this bank first and send Liz the money.”
“Then drive to Pueblo and make sure she picked it up.”
“Exactly. After that, we’ll see if we can locate this cabin or some kind of information to help us find it.”
“So this might really be over soon?”
He hated how the anticipation in her voice sliced at him, but he didn’t blame her for wanting some space from him. “Yeah.”
“That’s good.” She let out a deep breath. “That’s really good.”
After Kit contacted the check-cashing place in Wexler, she issued instructions for the money to be wired to Pueblo. She and Rafe waited an hour, until they were told the money was received on the other end, then they drove out of Grady City, straight west on US-50 for Pueblo.
The drive took almost seven hours. They arrived midafternoon, and once there, Rafe drove to the bank Liz had designated. Kit went inside to make sure the wire had indeed gone through. While she checked on that, he got directions to the police department.
Some of the strain seemed to vanish from around her mouth once she learned that the wire had come through and Liz had picked up the money.
He drove to the police department and explained the case to the desk sergeant, who took careful note of Liz and Tony’s descriptions, as well as Alexander’s goon. The sergeant then generously agreed to let Rafe hook up to the Internet via one of their phone lines.
For over an hour, Rafe searched Colorado property records for Eddie Sanchez. He saved the files to his laptop to look over once he and Kit left the police department. After thanking the sergeant for his help, he and Kit climbed
into his car.
He was tired, his brain was fuzzy, and guilt sawed at him over the distance he’d put between them.
After Kit agreed quietly that she was hungry, he chose a nice restaurant off I-25 South, and they shared a meal in near silence. The smudges under her eyes were darker; the quiet way she held herself gouged at his conscience. Rafe knew he couldn’t let things go on like this. She deserved better, regardless of how determined he was to protect his heart.
Finished with his steak and potato, he laid down his fork and napkin. Crawling over broken glass held more appeal, but he jumped right in. “Are we just going to pretend last night never happened?”
“Isn’t that what you want?” She gave him a cool if exhausted look across the table. “Just to forget it?”
“Not really. There were things I should’ve said. Hell, I should’ve said anything, but I just…didn’t. I was wrong and I owe you an apology.”
She stared at her plate, then lifted somber eyes to his.
“You can’t help it if you think our making love was a mistake. I just wish you’d said something before…before.”
“I didn’t say it was a mistake.” He leaned forward, urging her with his eyes to look at him, but she looked at her glass, the tablecloth, her half-empty plate. “I didn’t say that.”
Her gaze searched his. She carefully folded her napkin and leaned over to pick up her purse. “Let’s find a hotel for tonight. We can talk about it there.”
“Okay, good.” He hoped he hadn’t screwed things up beyond redemption.
Chapter 12
They checked into a hotel off I-25, not far from where they’d eaten. Even though Rafe hadn’t spotted the tail all day, he didn’t feel comfortable getting separate rooms.
As he filled out the registration card and pocketed the key, Kit’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t protest. In fact, she didn’t say anything. Well, he thought wryly, he certainly didn’t need to worry about a repeat of last night.
While he put her bag on the bed and his in the space between the wall and an armoire holding the television, she walked toward the window and stepped around a red floral chaise lounge to flip on a lamp in the corner. She stayed at the window, staring blankly at the khaki curtains. He wasn’t sure if they had another shot. He just knew he was miserable and he’d made her the same way.
The room smelled of pine air freshener and cleaner. He slid his gun out from the small of his back, double-checked the safety and laid the weapon on top of the armoire.
He watched Kit for a moment. She was a small, solitary figure; lamplight washed across her soft features, traced her curves with silvery light.
“I’m really sorry, Kit. I know I hurt you.”
“You did.” She took a deep breath, then turned to face him. “But I hurt you, too.”
“I didn’t do it to punish you.”
“I know.” In the pale light, her features looked worn from exhaustion. Anxiety darkened her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it all day and I finally get it.”
“Get what?” It had been his suggestion to talk, but he suddenly felt as if he were maneuvering around quicksand. “There’s no excuse for what I did.”
“You were there for me last night. Just like you always were.”
“I should’ve said no, should’ve told you I wasn’t ready. I should’ve known I wasn’t ready.”
She stepped toward him, looking up earnestly. The tantalizing scent of wildflowers and woman drifted through the room. “I was never there for you. Last night, I finally realized it. Or rather this morning. Why did you even put up with me as long as you did?”
The question hit him like an ambush. Rafe stared at her. Of all the things he’d expected, this wouldn’t have made the list. “Do you think I was such a jerk this morning because I was trying to get back at you? I wasn’t. I thought I was ready. I wanted to be ready, but—”
“No, I don’t think you pulled away to punish me or get back at me or anything like that. I don’t think you meant to hurt me at all.”
He exhaled a huge sigh of relief. “I didn’t.”
“But I do think you pulled away because you don’t trust me. You don’t trust that I won’t hurt you again. And the reason you don’t trust me is because all I ever did was hurt you.”
“That’s not true. It hurt when you walked away, but that’s all.”
“No, it’s not. I was always crying on your shoulder, then taking off to deal with family problems.”
“I never looked at it that way, Kit.”
“Not once?” she challenged. “Be honest.”
“What difference does this make now?” Frustration raking through him, he scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t like the turn of the conversation. “It was ten years ago.”
“I know you resented that. You still do.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Tension strung his body taut.
“Until we talk about it, until you admit it, how are we going to move on?”
The walls pressed in on him, squeezing his lungs. He stepped around her, gained a few feet of distance by walking to the bed. She was right. As much as he wanted to be over the anger he’d felt, he wasn’t.
“I know one reason you can’t trust me is that you think I’m going to run out on you again. Just tell me, Rafe. Please. I want to get this out in the open. I want to fight for us, Rafe, and I can do it for both of us if I have to. But I have to know the problem. You have to tell me.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Okay, yes, I think about that.”
“And you felt abandoned. Not just when I ended our engagement, but all those times I walked away before. All the times I left when you needed me.”
“Maybe.” He felt cornered, edgy. “I wanted to talk about what happened last night, Kit. I don’t want you to dissect me.”
“Why can’t you admit you resented me? That you still do?”
There it was, black and ugly and cold. “Because I don’t. I didn’t.” He skirted the end of the bed, found her right in front of him.
She touched his arm lightly, yet it held him in place like a truss. “What about that time your grandfather died and I left before the funeral to chase after Liz?”
The memory touched a raw place; he shook off her hand, moved past her. “Things happen.”
“And what about when you made the All-State team in basketball, but I wasn’t there for the announcement or to watch any of your games? I was with Liz.”
“We both know all this, Kit.” The light scent of wildflowers trailed him, knotting the muscles in his neck even more. “Talking about it won’t change anything.”
“I want to move on, Rafe. I want to move on with you and I don’t think you can trust me until we deal with this. You’ve got to tell me how I hurt you. I don’t want to do it again.”
Was she right? If they talked about it, could they put it behind them? She had this thing between her teeth and she obviously wasn’t letting go. “But if I tell you, that will hurt you. Hasn’t there been enough of that?”
“Please, Rafe. I need to know.”
“Damn.” He paced to the closet on the far side of the bed.
She followed. “Don’t you think this will help? Can’t you tell me? You told me I should tell Liz to grow up. You’re the one who told me I should let go of the responsibility I feel over my mom’s death, and I think I’m doing that.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was angry when I said all that.”
“Then I’ll tell you.” She sat behind him on the corner of the bed, pushing in that steel-velvet way she had. “I was never there for you. I made you feel second to my family, especially to my sister. And then I left you because of them.” Her voice quavered. “How could you ever trust me again?”
He stared into those big, liquid eyes, amazed that she would open herself up for this. Maybe she was right. Maybe talking about the past would allow them to put it behind them.
“I want to trust you, but you’re
right.” He finally gave in, sat next to her on the bed and looked her straight in the eye. “I wonder how long it will last. I wonder if you’ll only stay until the next time Liz needs you or the next time she runs off. I wonder if you’ll leave when I want something you don’t want to give.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, and he thumbed it away. “This isn’t what I want. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No. I need to know. I need to hear it from you.” She reached out, took his left hand in both of hers. “I swear, Rafe, I want to try with everything in me, but all I can do is try. I can’t promise. This is all new for me, too. But I want us, if you do. I can’t swear I’ll never look back, but I really want to look forward.”
The plea, the total vulnerability in her eyes undid him. And it was her honesty that finally allowed him to admit the level of resentment he’d denied feeling. He searched her face. “I can’t make promises, either. I’m not sure I can forget what happened the last time I let you in. You owned me heart and soul, Kit. I don’t know if I can give that up again.”
“That’s fair.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “I know I have to earn your trust—”
He placed two fingers over her lips. “You don’t have to earn anything. I just need to be sure. We need to be sure.”
She nodded, her eyes glowing. “I don’t think our making love was a mistake, but maybe it was too soon.”
“It was, for me. It made me lose perspective, Kit, and I need to keep that.” Reaching out, he stroked a finger down her velvety cheek, tried to ignore how close she was to him, how easy it would be to make love to her and pretend everything was all right. “My heart wants to trust you, but my head keeps getting in the way.”
“I understand.”
He slipped one finger beneath her chin and tipped her face towards his. “I want you, Kit, but I need some time with the rest of it.”
“Okay.” A tremulous smile curved her lips, making his gut pull tight. She leaned forward, brushed a soft kiss against his lips. “I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere this time.”
