3 Dime If I Know

by Maggie Toussaint

  “I could do that, but this is a problem you can solve,” I said.

  “I can’t. Didn’t you hear me?” Tears glistened in Lexy’s eyes. “Mrs. Sellers hates my pictures.”

  I opened my arms to my daughter, and she nestled up close. She had a good cry, and I stroked her back, wishing I could wring Mrs. Sellers’ neck. When Lexy calmed, I lifted her chin. “Life is a bumpy road, sweetheart. This is high school, so you don’t want to call in your parents unless it’s a big deal.” She puffed up to speak, and I shushed her. “Wait, I’m not done. The reason I think you can handle this is because I saw firsthand how you dealt with Madonna’s puppy birthing. When there’s a challenge, you dig in and make it work. You can do the same thing with this kid. You can get your pictures in the yearbook.”

  “Not as long as stupid Mrs. Sellers is our advisor.” Lexy toyed with a handful of brown grass she’d ripped from the ground. “She hates me and my pictures.”

  “That’s emotion talking. You can do better than that. You’re my problem solver. I know you can rise above this. What’s your strength in this situation?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve taken wonderful candid shots of the puppies.”

  “I had time to take a lot of pictures of them. They’re always around.”

  “Take more pictures of yearbook material. The more pictures you take, the higher the odds are of snapping a really good one.”

  “That’s true.” Lexy hugged me close. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “And if that doesn’t work, then we’ll talk again. Okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  She scampered off, and I resumed my weeding, wishing my problems were as easy to solve. A dark shadow fell over me, and my heart lurched into overdrive at the thought of someone walking up behind me unannounced. I turned, not knowing who was there. With the afternoon sun behind the person, I couldn’t make out a face.

  Not good.

  So not good.

  I shrank from the intruder, scrambling away on hands and knees.

  My ex caught my arm as I collapsed. “Easy, Clee. It’s me.”

  Shrugging off his grip, I pressed a hand against my racing heart. I wanted to yell at him, knowing if I did I’d see his smug smile at having provoked a strong reaction out of me. Damn him. “Charlie, you scared the living snot out of me.”

  “Sorry, love.” He nodded toward the house. “What was that all about?”

  “Lexy is working through a problem at school.”

  Charlie’s affable grin vanished. His affection for me may have wavered a few years back, but his daughters were the loves of his life. “Want me to step in?”

  “No. I want her to handle it.”

  “She’s a kid.”

  “She’s a teenager, a hybrid between kid and adult. She needs the experience with conflict resolution, and she can take this guy.”

  “A guy is giving Lexy trouble? Who is he? I’ll take care of him. It’s my God-given right. I’m Lexy’s father. You should’ve mentioned this before now.”

  “He’s nobody, Charlie. Calm down. I only found out about the problem five minutes ago, so you’re in the loop.”

  “I don’t like anyone messing with my kids.”

  “Me neither, but this is the right call. If she can’t resolve it, we’ll both step in. Together. No head knocking and no threatening anybody, okay?”

  “Together. I like that.” He stepped closer, his gaze softening. “I’d like us to do more things together. We could leave the kids with your mom and Bud and head up to Deep Creek Lake for a few days, like old times. What do you say?”

  I loved Deep Creek Lake. Our summer vacations there had been a bright spot of our marriage. Trust Charlie to play the sentimental card when I was loaded down with worries about my boyfriend.

  I retreated a few steps for good measure. “Did you forget I’m seeing someone else? There isn’t an us.”

  “But there could be. I’ve been patient because our separation was my fault. I want there to be an us. I screwed up. Big time. I want my entire family back.”

  His cologne washed over me, tangy and oh-so-familiar. Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t get Rafe to talk to me, and I couldn’t make Charlie go away.

  “What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

  I turned from him, blinking the tears back. “Nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

  His hand rested on my shoulder. Heat and comfort radiated from his touch. “Want a hug?”

  I stood my ground. “No. Please don’t do this. I’m not your wife.”

  “You could be. I’ll remarry you today if that’s what you want.”

  I shook my head. “You had your chance. I don’t trust you.”

  “We’ll get past that.”

  “Dad!” Charla slammed the front door behind her and bounced down the stairs, red curls flying. She hugged us both, her brown eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m ready for my driving lesson. Can we take your car?”

  Charlie took a long look at me. “No, we’ll borrow your mother’s car. That’s the car she wants you to drive once you have your license. I want you to be comfortable driving it.”

  My daughter’s face fell. “Can’t we take your car?”

  “Nope. From now on, we take the Gray Beast.” He turned to me, handing me the warm keys from his pocket. “If you need transportation while we’re gone, feel free to use my car.”

  I took the keys. Dazed, I watched them drive away. Temptation reared its ugly head. My relationship with Rafe was a certifiable mess. Charlie was right here, doing exactly what I expected him to do and more. He claimed to have turned over a new leaf.

  It was wrong to trust him.

  Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  But I did.

  CHAPTER 14

  * * *

  Charla and Lexy had insisted Jonette decorate the Tavern with streamers and balloons for her mayoral fundraiser. Looking at the bright clusters of red, white, and blue in the crowded room, I realized they’d been absolutely right. The decorations helped the bar look more like a campaign headquarters and less like a lonely hearts gathering hole.

  Jonette glowed in a crisp white blouse and pressed navy slacks, conservative clothes by her liberal standards, but she carried the polished look off to perfection. Her jaunty brown bob was styled away from her face, and she’d ramped back the mascara about fifty percent. All in all, she looked like a credible public servant.

  Which pleasantly surprised me.

  Jonette had entered the race because Darnell had made her mad one time too many. Judging from the size of this crowd and the donations I’d collected this evening, she had a good shot at winning the office. Darnell must be sweating in his mayoral boots.

  “What’s our bottom line?” Jonette asked an hour into the event.

  I patted the wooden donation box. “We’ve done quite well so far. Enough to purchase that radio spot you wanted and more.”

  “Cool.” Jonette surveyed the crowd. “I don’t even know some of these people. Isn’t this amazing?”

  “Let’s hope they turn out on election day. You need these votes and more to become mayor.”

  Jonette nodded, her gaze sweeping the room once more. She tugged my sleeve. “Looky there. Another miracle.”

  I followed her gaze to the lanky man with strawberry blond hair filling the doorway. Rafe. He’d come after all. My spirits brightened. I held still, almost afraid to breathe as he scanned the crowded room. When his gaze landed on me, his expression softened, and he started toward me.

  “I didn’t think he’d come,” I whispered to Jonette. My hand strayed to my hair, smoothing it back from my brow. I tugged my blouse down, sucked in my tummy.

  “He’s here, and he’s loaded.” Jonette leaned close. “Make sure you squeeze a campaign contribution out of him before you hit the sheets.” With that, she sauntered toward Esther Wilcox and greeted her like it was old home week.

  My thoughts turned to the determined man headed my way. Rafe se
emed happy to see me. I sipped chardonnay and wished I’d worn my new lingerie.

  Rafe’s red golf shirt reminded me of a famous golfer who wore red shirts on the last day of the tournament, the day he expected to win. Had Rafe’s wardrobe choice been deliberate? Was he here to officially patch things up between us? The possibility tantalized me even though I was irritated with him for shutting me out of his life.

  He stood before me and reached for my hand. Sparks flew up my arm, igniting the fire smoldering in my belly. Oh, yes, the chemistry between us hadn’t changed. A small sigh of welcome hummed in my throat.

  “Hey, you,” he rumbled in his deep voice.

  Overcome with emotion, I tugged him close for a kiss. To my delight, he obliged, putting his mind to it. My toes curled as the noisy din of the room receded. “I’ve missed you,” I said.

  “I’m doing my best to keep you out of harm’s way, but I couldn’t stay away tonight.”

  “I’m glad you came. It means a lot to me. And Jonette. She wants your money, of course.”

  “Of course.” He pulled a check from his pocket and stuffed it in the donation box. “Done.”

  “Thanks. Jonette’s doing great tonight. I’m proud of her.”

  He nodded, but his face clouded.

  “What? What is it?” I asked, sensitive to his darkening mood.

  He exhaled slowly, as if he didn’t want to say anything, which only made my trepidation worse. Terrible thoughts raced through my head. Had something happened to my girls? Was it his family? Did it pertain to Starr’s murder? What was it?

  “Please tell me,” I said. “I’m going nuts imagining things.”

  He studied my face. “Starr’s sister called me this afternoon. Said you were at the funeral today. You and a cop.”

  I hastened to explain. “I didn’t go with Britt. We went separately and happened to sit together.”

  “I don’t want you connected to Starr.”

  “I want to clear your name,” I countered. “I want to know about your relationship with her.”

  “Starr is poison.”

  I set my wineglass down. “She’s dead, and Britt thinks you shot her. Unless another suspect comes to his attention, you’re all he’s got.”

  “Good thing my girlfriend got me a lawyer.” He edged closer, his lips nuzzling my neck as he spoke. “I don’t want to argue about this. I’ve missed being with you. Can’t we focus on us tonight? Come home with me. I need your strength and your loving.”

  I needed the physical release of lovemaking as much as the next person. More, maybe, because I was worried about Rafe going to jail.

  Sex would be nice.

  Sex wouldn’t solve anything.

  I hovered in that breathless void of uncertainty. Wanting everything to be open and honest between us. It aggravated me that I was torn between my physical desire and my need to know the truth. Was sex with a murder suspect right or wrong?

  While my thoughts warred, a fracas started at the door. I glanced over to see Jonette’s boyfriend, Dean, jostling with a white-haired man. “Damn. What’s he doing here?”

  “Who?” my boyfriend asked, craning his neck around to see.

  “Darnell’s here.”

  Rafe’s arm cinched around my waist, and he turned to study the disaster in the making. “That can’t be good.”

  Darnell faked right and lunged left, a move no doubt left over from his glory days on the high school football field. In any event, he outfoxed Dean and climbed up on a table. He raised his hands and shouted, “People! People!”

  He clapped his hands loudly when it wasn’t quiet enough to suit him. “Listen to me. Don’t give a dime of your money to this pretender. You know what side of town she’s from. There’s nothing she can do for you that I can’t.”

  I hid my face, embarrassed for the mayor. He’d been my client for years, and I knew when he got spun up about something, he couldn’t back down. By taking him on, Jonette had threatened his power base. I prayed he hadn’t stopped taking his meds.

  A low rumble of masculine frustration filled the crowded room, sending waves of dread through me. Uh-oh. Roger Dalton. Jonette’s third ex-husband. “Got that wrong, boy-o,” Roger drawled in a dangerous voice. “There’s nothing about you I want. But, Johnsy, she’s one hot chick.”

  The entire room burst into laughter. Dean stepped between Jonette and the incumbent mayor, hands fisted at his side. “Get out of here, Darnell.”

  “Exactly my point,” the mayor went on as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “Hot chicks aren’t mayors. Half the men in this room have sampled her wares. She’s not mayor material. Never was. Never will be.”

  That was a low blow, even for a worm like Darnell. I wanted to squash him like a bug, but Rafe held me tight. “Let me go,” I muttered in his ear. “I need to kill Darnell.”

  “Wait,” Rafe said. “Let it play out. I know a thing or two about political situations.”

  “You miserable worm.” Red of face, Jonette edged around Dean and grabbed Darnell’s leg. “Get off the table, and get the hell out of here.”

  Darnell shook his leg but Jonette clung like a bulldog. “Don’t be taken in by her pretty face, folks,” the mayor said. “She’ll tell you lies about me. I have a college degree and years of experience at being mayor. I’m a proven leader. She’s nothing but an aging barmaid.”

  Dean grabbed hold of Darnell’s other leg. “Asshole. Out of my place, or I’m calling the cops.”

  Fake laughter burst out of the mayor’s mouth. “That’ll play well in tomorrow’s paper. ‘Cops called to mayoral fundraiser’ is a killer headline.”

  “Think you’ve got it figured out?” Dean snarled, tugging at the suit-clad leg. “The headline will read ‘Drunken mayor disrupts the peace at opponent’s fundraiser.’ ”

  “The newspapers will print what I damn well tell them. Let go of me. I’ll have your liquor license pulled and run the two of you bad seeds out of town.”

  Roger Dalton stepped forward, cell phone held high. “You may control the newspaper in this town, but you don’t control the Internet. I uploaded your rant to YouTube and tweeted about it. Two dozen people have already seen it. This thing’s going viral.”

  Darnell shrieked and lunged for Roger. Dean, Rafe, and a few other men in the crowd escorted the outraged mayor from the building.

  I hurried to Jonette and hugged her. Her chin quivered. My eyes watered with sympathy, but I fought the tide of emotion. One of us had to be strong, and it was my turn.

  “Some party,” she said. “Where’s the nearest rock? I want to crawl under it and not come out until after the election.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. That’s why Darnell came here. To bully you and to embarrass you. Instead, he embarrassed himself.”

  “All the things he said about me were true.”

  “Your past isn’t news to anyone here. We all have pasts. We’ve all made a mistake or three. Look at how long I was married to Charlie.”

  “Hmm. Well. Okay, then. We’ll soldier on.” Jonette searched my face. “You and Rafe patch things up?”

  I looked away, knowing I couldn’t lie to her. “Not exactly.”

  “Holy mother of God,” Jonette gasped. “Look what walked through my door. Meow. I’ve always had a thing for tall, buff, and gorgeous. A man with smoky eyes like that shouldn’t be allowed to prowl the planet. Let’s check him out.”

  My heels dug in. This was a bad idea. “I’ve got a boyfriend, and you do, too.”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  She took off like a shot. Worried that this might be train wreck number two of the evening, I trailed after her.

  Jonette pinned a Moore for Mayor button on the collar of the grinning man. “Jonette Moore. And you are?”

  “Hill Golden, ma’am. Sorry to intrude. I heard my brother was here tonight. But I no longer care, not with two such pretty ladies at my side.”

  My brain caught up with the conversation. “You’re Rafe’s brother?�
� The man was drop-dead handsome. The way he smiled at me made me think I was the love of his life. My heart fluttered.

  He shook my hand, caressed it a bit. “Call me Hill, sweet thing. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I’m Rafe’s . . .” My voice trailed off, not sure how I should declare myself to his brother, remembering his sister thought I was a commoner. Sensing the awkward pause, I hurried to finish. “I’m seeing Rafe. Socially.” Heat flamed my cheeks. Everyone knew socially meant having sex.

  Hill whistled through his perfect teeth. “Rafe has excellent taste in women. You’re his first redhead, by the way. And now that I’ve met you, I’m thinking red is the way to go. Why don’t the two of us go someplace private and get better acquainted?”

  Repelled, I drew back. “Eew No.”

  “That attitude is turning me on, Red.”

  “Don’t call her that,” Rafe growled as he joined us. “Leave Cleo alone.”

  Hill’s expressive eyes lit with understanding. “Cleopatra Jones? I get it now. She’s the one that’s got big sis in such a swivet.”

  “Reggie sent you?” Rafe asked.

  “She did. Here’s her message, and I quote, ‘Stop this golf foolishness and come home where you belong.’ Message delivered. Now I’m ready to party. I see you’ve got dibs on the redhead. I call the smoking-hot brunette. I always did want to screw a mayor.”

  Steam shot out of Jonette’s ears. “I’m not a mayor—not yet anyway—and I’m not screwing anyone.”

  Regret filled Hill’s eyes, turned the corners of his mouth down. “Pity.”

  “Go home, Hill,” Rafe said.

  “Aw, bro. I just got here. What’s the biggie?”

  “You’ve got a girlfriend at home.”

  “You know about Tiffany and me?”

  Rafe barely nodded his head.

  “I love her,” Hill said. “We’re getting married, but I’m footloose tonight, and I love a party.”