All she could do was love him through it. Love? She had no idea when that had come into play. She could have come up with plenty of other words, like intrigue or concern, but love? There was no way she’d fallen in love with him.
A walk on the beach was exactly what she needed to sort through those feelings. But she’d promised Rafe to keep the doors locked, so she was stuck inside. She made a cup of tea and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. She would do what she did with everything and logically write down what she felt. Upon review, she’d know if it was love or not.
She spent the next hour holding the pen in her hand and tapping it on the paper. There was absolutely nothing on it but one word: Rafe. There was so much running through her mind she couldn’t stop long enough to write. He was the most irritating, arrogant man, who was at the same time incredibly intelligent and caring. How can someone be so hard and gentle at the same time?
That was her dilemma. She found both attractive in different ways. He was strong and protective; that made her feel safe. When he held her while she cried, his gentleness touched her. It hadn’t been a pretty little tear that rolled down her cheek. Nope, it was a bawling your eyes out, get me a tissue, flood of tears. Any other man would have run for the hills at either scenario, yet he hadn’t abandoned her. In fact, he’d made it a point to make sure she was okay—physically and emotionally. Her feelings seemed to matter to him.
Deanna tapped some more on the paper. She was looking at this from the wrong angle. Maybe I should be trying to figure out if he loves me.
The problem was how could one tell if someone loved them? He’d never said anything that came close to letting her know he liked her, let alone loved her. The only things she could go on were his actions. Even when she tried to get him to speak, he wasn’t able to say it. Maybe because he doesn’t want to lie to me.
There had to be a better way because this was getting her nowhere fast. Looking at the paper, she saw little progress. All she’d done was draw a heart around his name. Yeah. Really helpful.
Rafe had her heart. But did she have his? Deanna knew who might be able to shed some light on that. Rafe said I couldn’t go out. He never said I couldn’t have company.
Picking up her phone, she called Melissa.
“Hi, DeeDee. Is everything okay?”
Deanna wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to hearing someone other than Phoebe call her DeeDee, but she wasn’t about to ask Melissa to stop either. “Yes, just wondering what you’re doing for dinner.”
“Would you believe cereal?”
Deanna laughed. She’d already figured out Turchettas took care of everyone else but seemed to forget about themselves. Goodness, this family needs some help. She smiled. Maybe they need me. “Why don’t you come here and I’ll cook for you.” Just don’t ask for lobster.
“What about Rafe?”
Wherever he is, she doesn’t seem to know anything about it either. She wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not. Melissa was the one Deanna hoped to break down and get information from.
“He had some . . . business to attend to.” She didn’t want to mention Renzo just in case that was supposed to be private. Not that I can see him trusting me with secrets.
“That’s horrible, leaving you there all alone. What do you say we go out and take in a movie or something fun?”
It sounded wonderful, but she’d promised Rafe she’d stay put. She didn’t think he’d object to her spending time with Melissa, but leaving wasn’t an option. “Although I’d love that, I kind of want to spend the night in. I make great homemade meatballs and sauce.”
“You do know that I’m Italian, right?” Melissa asked teasingly.
Deanna laughed. “I mean gravy.” She couldn’t believe she’d made that mistake. Phoebe had lectured her on the difference between sauce and gravy years ago. It was a private joke between them each time they went out to eat. Phoebe would listen closely each time they ordered. Maybe that’s why I always choose seafood.
“I’ll come if you let me bring dessert. Do you have a preference?” Melissa asked.
Deanna recalled a small dairy farm that had a bakery. They made the best pastries around. “I do. I’ll text you the information.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you soon.”
She texted Melissa the link to the farm and a picture of the peanut butter torte. It was heavenly with more sugar than one should ever consume. But she was going to enjoy every single bite.
Thankfully Rafe had stocked up on food since their little lobster ordeal. While she’d cleaned up after pizza, he’d done a bit of shopping. She knew she had everything she needed to pull together a nice dinner for Melissa. Her gravy was on the stove on low, and the meatballs were in the oven. She was looking forward to spending time with Melissa again. Even though she has no information to share.
It wasn’t long before Melissa arrived with the torte in hand. “Gee, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it here without diving into this thing first. You didn’t tell me I’d smell the peanut butter and chocolate all the way here. It was torture.”
“You have more willpower than I do. I’d have shown up with a piece or two or three missing.”
Deanna took the torte to the kitchen, placed it on the counter, and turned to Melissa. “I hope you don’t mind me asking you a question.”
Melissa looked at her with concern. “Anything. What is it?”
Deanna picked up the knife and asked, “How do you feel about starting with dessert?”
She saw Melissa relax as she reached across the table and stuck her finger into the chocolate, bringing it to her lips. “Guess you know which piece is mine.”
Her tone set the mood for the night. They laughed so hard and blamed it on a sugar high. That was possible because after dinner they’d each eaten another piece. As they sat on the couch, Deanna broached the subject of Rafe. She wasn’t prying but wanted to know a few things about him.
“It’s kind of lonely here without Rafe.” That opened the door for Melissa. Now she needed her to take the bait.
“I’m so glad you two are hitting it off so well.”
“Yeah, me too. But I’m not sure . . .”
“Not sure about what?” Melissa asked.
“How he feels.” That was true. She could guess, but she wanted confirmation. Deanna could and probably should take the more direct route and ask Rafe, but if she pushed, he might run. He wasn’t comfortable talking in that manner. She might need to know, but she didn’t want to risk losing him.
“I’d say you should ask him, but I’m sure you figured out he isn’t much on words. At least not that kind.”
Deanna nodded.
“Well, let’s see, you’re still here. Which says you care very much about him, am I correct?” Melissa asked.
Deanna wanted to get information, not give it. But what harm was there in admitting the obvious. “I do.”
“I could be wrong, but I’d say you do a lot.”
Deanna blushed. “You wouldn’t be wrong. I need to know if it’s reciprocated.”
“As I said, you’re still here. If he didn’t care about you, your butt would be out the door.”
“No, I’m here because he promised he’d never let anything happen to me.”
“Promised? Yeah, that’s not a word Rafe uses.”
Deanna thought back hard. “No, he used the word promise several times. I’m sure of it.”
Melissa’s eyes widened. “Well, then. That says a lot.”
“What do you mean? It’s just a word.”
“Not one Rafe uses. If he actually used the word promise, then you mean more to him than even I expected.”
She could tell Melissa was equally surprised by this development. Can that one word be his way of saying he loves me? Deanna wanted to believe so. She knew what she’d heard, and the look in his eyes when he said those things showed he was serious.
Whether Melissa realized it or not, she just gave Deanna what she was looking for. Insight int
o the inner workings of Rafe Turchetta. Darn, he’s complex. She looked forward to getting to know all the little quirks about him. Hope he feels the same about mine.
When Melissa left, Deanna cleaned the kitchen and went to her room. She stood at the bed, knowing that was where she should sleep. Rafe’s room was his, and she shouldn’t assume she had the right to spend the night there without him. She walked over and lay down on her bed. It was comfortable. Soft like she liked her bed to be. His was hard as a rock. Hers smelled sweet and floral. His smelled like . . . him.
She knew sleep wasn’t going to happen where she was. Getting up, she walked to his room, opened the door, and contemplated her options. His bed or his couch. A smile at the sweet moments they’d shared together on that bed was all she needed to make up her mind. She closed the door behind her and snuggled in between the sheets. Grabbing one of the pillows, she hugged it, wishing it was Rafe. At least it smells like he’s here.
Sleeping wasn’t easier in his bed, but at least she felt closer to him. That didn’t make any sense as she tried to process it logically. But she’d learned there was nothing logical about being there with him. She remembered Phoebe’s famous way of explaining what couldn’t be explained. It fit perfectly right now. Some things just are what they are and all you can do it accept it.
Inhaling his scent once more, she grinned and closed her eyes. Rafe. Finally feeling at peace, she began to drift off. It just is.
Chapter 15
Rafe grabbed Peter by the hair and forced his head up to look at him. Rafe and Renzo had their faces concealed with black ski masks, but their eyes were enough to intimidate the day lights out of anyone. It wasn’t that they didn’t want their identity known, but if Peter didn’t know who held him captive, they had more control over the situation. Fear is a good motivator.
“Tell us, Peter. We’re going to find out with or without your help. Who did Milton pay to have all those people killed?” Rafe snarled, tugging more firmly.
Peter winced and tried to pull away. Rafe wasn’t giving in. He knew Peter was close to snapping. He could see it in his eyes. He just needed a little more incentive to talk.
“Maybe we should turn him over to the Feds.”
“Feds? What would they want with me? I didn’t kill those people,” Peter stated.
Rafe shot Renzo a look. They had Peter exactly where they wanted him. He was easier to break than most men. It had taken less than thirty-six hours to get him shaking in his boots.
“Make me believe it, Peter. Tell me what Milton had them do, or I’m going to let you fry for it.” Rafe had every intention of making sure both of them paid for their crimes. Eleven people, including Phoebe, lost their lives because of Milton. Prison was too good for these scumbags, but he wouldn’t take a life for no reason. Once he was done extracting information from Peter, Rafe had every intention of turning him over to the authorities. But the crime hadn’t been committed on US soil. If Moreira chose to extradite them for trial, it was as good as setting them free. He was going to have to do something with him. What that was, he had yet to decide. Whatever it is, he won’t hurt anyone else ever again.
“I’m telling you. It was all Milton. I only found out afterward.”
“Then tell me what you know. If you leave anything out, I’ll know, and you can kiss your dumb tail goodbye. Got it?” Rafe asked.
“Yeah. I got it.”
Rafe released his hold. Standing back and peering into Peter’s eyes, Rafe demanded, “Start talking.”
“Milton came back from visiting Abby in Moreira. You know right before the accident.”
“Murder!” Rafe corrected.
Peter nodded. “Yeah . . . that. Well, Milton was ticked off. One of the local women had blabbed to Abby about Milton messing around on her. Guess she went crazy and told Milton she was going to file for divorce as soon as she returned home. She was scheduled to come back the following week. If she had returned, he would’ve lost everything.”
Rafe was trying to hold his temper and was glad his face was covered. “How was Milton able to convince them to massacre seven men and four women?”
“Easy. They are poor and desperate. That makes them easy to manipulate,” Peter said smugly.
Isn’t that what your brother did to you, Peter? He bit his tongue and stayed focused. “Why not just kill Abby?”
“Do you think we’re stupid? Might as well raise your hand and shout out who did it. The only way to make sure no one talked was to kill them all,” Peter said coldly, and Rafe knew he felt no guilt for what had happened. But you’re going to wish you never met us. That I can guarantee you.
“But one did live.” He refused to say Deanna’s name to this evil, sick jerk.
“Yeah, that witch almost screwed everything up. The announcement about the attack had already been broadcast on the news. Somehow one of those freaking idiots over there decided they would let her live so they could continue to collect money from Milton.”
He was missing something. Milton could’ve had her killed any time when she returned to the United States. “Why let her live?”
“They let her make one phone call to some police department in the States. She told them some story about everyone being killed in the camp except for her. And she was safe with the Morieran authorities. Her dropping dead after that would’ve seemed odd, don’t you think?”
Rafe hated to admit it, but Milton’s plan was impressive. It explained why no one questioned it further. Deanna had corroborated all their lies because she felt her life was in danger. Still is until that joker is stopped for good.
“So how much did it cost Milton to have this . . . taken care of.”
Peter huffed. “Ten grand. I told him I’d have knocked the witch off for half that amount. Now look. He’s stuck paying them ten grand every year to keep their mouths shut.”
Rafe felt ill. Eleven people dead for less than the price of a new car. And Peter sat in front of him arrogantly stating he’d have done it for less. He knew the men of Moreira didn’t value the lives of women, but he wanted to think men in the States were better than that. These jerks aren’t.
What he hadn’t heard was any mention of Shadoa. Was it possible Milton didn’t know about her? What would be the point of keeping her a secret from him? He knew the men had said Shadoa was their meal ticket. If they weren’t collecting from Milton, then who?
He hated missing pieces, but he could tell Peter didn’t have the answer to that question. Looks like Gabe has more digging to do.
Rafe turned to Renzo and said, “You want the honors or should I?” Rafe reached behind him and pulled out his Glock, taking off the safety.
“Hey wait. You don’t have to kill me. I . . . I can deliver Milton to you. He’s the one you want,” Peter pleaded as he shook in his seat.
“I don’t believe him,” Renzo said. “Just finish him, and let’s get the heck out of here.”
Peter was practically crying as Rafe lifted his gun and took aim. “I’m not lying. Milton is about to . . . to finish what he started.”
Rafe could see Renzo out of the corner of his eye. He gave him a nod. They both knew what that meant. Time to step up the game. Renzo walked over and stood between Rafe and Peter. “Listen punk, I might not be able to stop him from blowing out your brains. So if you have something real to say, you better talk fast.”
* * *
Peter peered around Renzo at Rafe. Their eyes met briefly before he started blabbing to Renzo.
“Milton located the woman. Man, he was madder than a rabid dog. You know . . . the one who got away in Moreira. Looks like she thought she could hide by changing her name and looks, but it didn’t work. That accomplished nothing except to tick Milton off.”
“Why?” Renzo asked.
Peter said, “Because she was supposed stay home and keep her pretty little mouth shut. Guess Milton realized he couldn’t trust the witch any longer. Milton was going to follow through with his promise to ruin her family, but the
re was no fun in that. So he’s going after her instead.”
Heck no! “How did you find her?” Rafe asked. He’d taken every precaution not to let anyone know where she was.
“Milton didn’t say, but he knows she’s in Rhode Island, and he’s going to take her out himself.”
Himself? Milton hadn’t struck Rafe as the type of guy who got his own hands dirty. Something changed. He’d hoped Peter was talking out of his worried little pea-brained head, trying to stall. But if they knew Deanna was in Rhode Island, it possibly wasn’t a bluff. Renzo had picked up on Rafe’s grave concern.
“What’s Milton’s plan?”
“He sent the witch a red dress and flowers, telling her he had a surprise for her. A romantic evening planned for the two of them,” Peter said.
“Why would she go with someone she doesn’t know?” Rafe asked. He’d left her strict instructions not to leave. There was no way she’d go out because some jerk asked her out.
“Milton has been watching the house. She was staying with some guy, I don’t know his name. Milton found out who the loser was and put his name on the note. As far as that witch knows, she’s meeting her lover. Boy is she gonna be shocked to find—”
Rafe watched as Renzo’s fist came crashing down on Peters left temple, knocking him out. Then he turned to Rafe. “Sorry. I’d heard enough. I think you better get back to Rhode Island.”
“I’m going to flipping kill him,” Rafe said, pulling off his ski mask.
“Want me to come with you or deal with this jerk?” Renzo asked.
Rafe had all he wanted from Peter, but they couldn’t let him walk. Not after everything they’d learned. “Make the call. Meet with your buddies at the Feds and make sure they know to keep him on ice until you hear from me.”
“What exactly am I going to tell them?” Renzo had some close connections from his days on SWAT, but they were going to want something more about a guy who obviously had been held captive and beaten.
Rafe hated bringing anyone on a government payroll into this mess at this time. Feds were still bound by rules and would never allow him to go after Milton himself. They’d want a wiretap, tracking device, their own surveillance team. That’d be great, but they didn’t have time to play their games. With the cash flow Milton seemed to have at his disposal, even if he was taken into custody he’d make bond. That meant Milton could walk away and go after Deanna again.
For Honor_Sweet Version Page 17
