3 Dime If I Know (7 page)

“I appreciate your good intentions, but I don’t gossip about my clients,” Ashley said in a crisp tone. “If you want details about his past, ask him.”

“I have.” I sighed. “He won’t talk about it.”

“Good for him.” Ashley stood. “Excuse me. I have to cut this short. I’ve an appearance as the fairy godmother in my daughter’s school play.”

That explained the fancy outfit. I withdrew a business card from my purse as I rose. “If you think of anything that might help, please call me.”

Ashley gazed at the card in her hand for a long moment. When she glanced up, her eyes misted. “Be good to my cousin.”

Her cousin.

That fit.

As I drove home, I pondered the new information. Rafe’s sister was politically connected. She zealously protected the family name. From what Ashley implied, Rafe and his sister didn’t see eye to eye, which I’d already observed.

All in all, my trip was a bust. Except for learning Rafe’s beautiful cousin was loyal to him. I moved into the left lane to thread my way through the rush hour traffic on I-270 northbound. Helping Rafe was harder than I thought. I was short on leads, even shorter on suspects. I had no idea who shot Starr.

I could only hope Regina’s protests spurred our police force to widen the investigation for Starr’s killer. Yeah, right. Like that would happen. Britt was as dog-headed as I was. If anything, pressure from his superiors would backfire. He’d focus his attentions exclusively on Rafe after the interference. Worse, he’d push to close the case to keep his boss off his back.

The chances of Britt backing away from Rafe as his chief murder suspect were no better than they were of Mama cooking normal food for supper.

“Want to go out for dinner? My treat.” My tight grip on the phone belied my casual-sounding offer. Truth be told, Rafe never let me pay for anything on our dates.

My leg jiggled in my office chair. I jammed both shoes hard on the floor as I waited for Rafe’s response. The familiar sights of file cabinets, computers, and stacks of unfiled folders in my utilitarian space did little to ease the tightness in my chest.

There was so much I wanted to discuss with Rafe, so much I wanted to share with him about my last few days. He’d avoided me at the golf course this morning. Even Jonette had noticed his absence.

“Not tonight. I’m tied up,” Rafe said.

He sounded so tired, so defeated. I leaned into the phone. “Rafe, please. Let me in. I can help. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I’m here for you.”

“It’s better this way.”

“Better for whom? Not for me.”

“I need to work through this alone. You have your daughters to consider, and your business. I don’t want to cast a bad light on your personal or professional reputation.”

“I’m not worried about my reputation. My daughters are fine. They’ve survived much worse than a bad light shining on them.”

“I’m not your ex-husband. I can clean up my own mess.”

I bristled at his surly comment, but I understood his desire to handle his own problems. Rafe wasn’t the type of guy to rely on anyone. He relied on himself. But I wanted him to trust me with this. I needed him to trust me.

For that reason, I resisted the urge to fill in the silence. Charlie had done a number on me, not once, but twice. I never thought of my ex and Rafe in the same breath. One was my past and one was my future. I hoped.

“I didn’t kill Starr,” Rafe said.

“I believe you.”

“Thanks. Stay out of this. For your family’s sake. For me.”

The phone clicked in my ear. I stared at my desk. He was right. My livelihood mattered. I couldn’t afford to throw it away, but I wouldn’t let Rafe sink either.

I had his back.

Arnold chomped down on my finger. My eyes watered at the sharp pain. I reclaimed my digit and tapped the puppy lightly on the nose. “No biting.”

Undeterred, he latched onto the hem of my blue jeans and tugged. His startled reaction when I didn’t resist knocked him back on his haunches so that he looked like a rearing pony. I laughed, awakening his sister, Ariel, who’d curled up in my lap. I gave her another cuddle and set her on the rug so that I could play tug-o-war with her rowdy brother.

After a day of wrestling with updated computer software and trying to figure out why the stupid computer wouldn’t recognize the printer, I needed puppy therapy. Picking up a squeaky toy, I engaged Arnold lightly, taking care not to pull too hard and harm his puppy teeth. Ariel and Moses, who’d been chasing the dust bunnies behind the sofa, joined in the fun.

Despite talking to Rafe and his cousin, I had no fresh leads to help Rafe beat a murder rap. Today’s newspaper offered me an opportunity to approach the problem from a different direction. Starr Jeffries’ funeral was on Friday.

Tomorrow.

The lighthearted puppy antics took my mind off my troubles. Madonna lumbered over to drool on my shoulder, her maternal pride in her babies apparent in the way she mooned over them.

I stroked her face. “You’re a good mom to look out for your little ones.”

Arnold spied his mom and let go of the toy to nip at her heels. Madonna gave me a pained look, then hurried upstairs. I had no doubt that she planned to hide out on my bed. Initially, I’d discouraged her from sleeping with me. Saint Bernards were large dogs, after all, but I understood her need to get away. To have a space apart from the children. These days we shared the bed.

Which brought me back full-circle to my problem with Rafe, who wasn’t sharing much of anything with me. He said he didn’t kill Starr Jeffries. Someone killed her. Someone who wanted Rafe to pay for the crime. That wouldn’t happen as long as I had breath in my body.

I wanted to wave a magic wand to fix everything. Failing that, I could plague Britt until he let something slip. I could contact Rafe’s other family members in hopes they’d confide in me about Rafe and Starr. I could grill his assistant, Jasper, at the golf course. I could go to Starr’s funeral.

Of my options, the last one held the most promise.

Puppies climbed on me and licked my face. I rolled on the floor with them, laughing. Charla breezed in from school on a whirlwind of teenaged angst. “Jackie has the coolest car ever, Mom. I need a cool car.”

“You’re getting my car.” Soon as I buy a good used car for myself, I amended silently.

“Ugh. The Gray Beast isn’t cool. Dad says—”

“Don’t start with me on ‘Dad says.’ Dad doesn’t keep his promises.”

“He does now. He’s changed. He told me so, and I believe him.”

With that, she stomped upstairs to commiserate with her sister. I could’ve saved her a trip. Lexy was worried about the other photographer on the yearbook staff. She had no energy to spare for the “let’s get Mom and Dad back together” campaign that Charla waged.

Moses and Ariel snuggled next to me while Arnold tried to leap on top of them. I positioned him beside his littermates, dividing my attentions between the three of them. Arnold wouldn’t settle. He jumped on the others again, prompting them to chase after him.

There I was again. Alone.

Getting to be the norm for me these days.

The more I saw of alone, the less I liked it.

I caught the puppies and placed them in the puppy box for a time-out until after dinner. After all that romping, they ought to be sleepy.

I sighed deeply, filling my lungs with the mouth-watering aroma from the kitchen. It smelled like roasted pork. I could only hope that it wasn’t basted with lime gelatin or swimming in blueberry yogurt. You never knew what Mama would mix together in the kitchen.

I followed my nose to the kitchen where Mama bustled around with a happy glow I recognized. She was in love. The big rock on her finger caught the light, reminding me that Mama’s future looked bright. I was truly happy for her.

“Roast pork?” I asked, settling into a wooden chair.

“Pork tenderloin with an orange marmalade glaze.”

“For real? It sounds so normal.”

“I don’t have to pinch pennies anymore. Bud’s got more than enough money for the both of us. I thought normal might be nice for a change.”

“You said normal was boring.”

“I’m trying on normal. Never said I’d wear it everyday.” Mama sat down beside me at the table. “What’s bugging you?”

“Rafe.”

“I thought as much.”

“Has Bud said anything to you about Rafe’s case?”

“A little, but I’m not supposed to tell.”

“That’s no good. How can I help him if you keep me out of the knowledge circle?”

Mama chewed her lip for a moment. “Bud says Rafe doesn’t have a good alibi.”

“Rafe says he didn’t do it.”

“Bud says Rafe’s determined to keep you out of this.”

I waved away that news. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Can’t.”

The front doorbell rang. “This discussion isn’t over.” I rose to answer the summons, knowing that it had to be a stranger or a cop. A friend would come to the kitchen door.

Tall and regal, Regina Golden looked down her nose at me. She presented an immaculate appearance in a chestnut-brown leather jacket, coordinating blouse, snug cream-colored trousers, and high-heeled boots. Behind her, the Bentley purred in the driveway. The female driver nodded to me.

Regina got right to the point. “May I speak with you?”

I knew this woman could shred people in a matter of seconds, and I didn’t want the girls or Mama exposed to her. Heck, I didn’t want to be exposed to her, but she was Rafe’s sister. I stepped out on the front porch, leery of what she had to say. “Sure.” I gestured to the rocking chairs. “Would you like to sit down?”

“No. This won’t take long. Stay away from my brother.”

I barred my arms across my chest, conscious of the fact that my jeans and floral blouse were dotted with puppy slobber and dog hair. “Why would I do that?”

“He doesn’t want you around. He told me so.”

Coming from her, it didn’t sound like a generous act on his part. She made me feel as if I were inflicting myself on her brother. I hastened to clear the air. “He’s protecting me, but I can look after myself.”

Regina flicked her wrist dismissively. Diamonds sparkled on her fingers. “Ashley called me. You’re interfering in our lives. Stop it at once.”

“I’m not interfering. I’m trying to clear Rafe’s name. What are you doing to help him?”

“I don’t answer to you.”

“Rafe’s in trouble,” I shot back. “He doesn’t have an alibi.”

“If you care so much, why don’t you give him one?”

“I do care, but I won’t lie for him. The best way to protect Rafe is to find out who killed Starr Jeffries.”

“Damn Rafe and his plebian tastes. If he hadn’t associated with the help in the first place, this never would have happened.”

Her derisive tone made me wonder how she talked about me to others. I wasn’t in her financial league, that was certain. “Playing the blame game never helps. Rafe needs help, not accusations.”

“He won’t use the company legal team. Said he prefers the geezer you hired for him. That’s ridiculous. We need big guns to fight this kind of accusation.”

Rafe’s choice made me smile inside. It was a small victory, but joy surged clear to my toes. Regina might be his blood kin, but I knew my man.

“Finding out who killed Starr is the best way to prove Rafe didn’t do it,” I insisted.

“Stay away from my brother. You won’t get a dime out of our family.”

That did it. I worked my back teeth apart. “I’m not after your money.”

Regina’s face flushed red. She whirled to leave, and tossed me a parting salvo over her shoulder. “So you say.”

So I know. My hands fisted as Regina’s chauffeur drove them into the sunset. Miss High and Mighty thought she knew everything, I fumed. She didn’t know me, or she wouldn’t have bothered telling me to stay away from her brother. One sure way to get me to do something was to tell me not to do it.

I’d better iron my navy slacks after supper. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from Starr’s funeral tomorrow.

After three wrong turns, I arrived at the Parkerville Funeral Home at five after eleven on a cloudy Friday morning. The flickering neon sign by the squatty brick building tickled my funny bone. If you only read the illuminated part, you’d think this was the
kerville funeral ho.

If it was me, I’d have that sign fixed.

According to the notice I’d found online in the
Montgomery County News
’ obituary section, Starr Jeffries’ memorial service started at eleven. Which meant I was late.

I buttoned my navy blue blazer as I hurried across the thinly populated parking lot. The lack of cars worried me. Didn’t Starr have family or friends who mourned her passing? Was she a lost soul Rafe had taken under his wing?

From the obituary, I’d learned Starr was thirty years old and had lived in Madeira, Maryland, about eight miles west of the funeral parlor. That was all. There was no next of kin mentioned, no parents, no children. There’d been no occupation listed and no designation for memorial gifts. My heart went out to the woman, and I hadn’t even known her.

She’d lived such a short time and had barely left a footprint to show she’d been here. I hoped more could be said for me when my time came.

Inside the funeral home, my eyes watered at the heavy floral scent. Since there were no cut flowers in the vicinity, I assumed the fragrance came from air freshener.

An older woman in a dark purple leisure suit hoisted herself up from her seat by the door when I entered. She leaned heavily on a wooden cane. “May I help you?”

“Starr Jeffries. I’m here for her memorial service.”

She gave me a long look, the same expression Mama used when she disapproved of something. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t apologize for being late. I’d never been here before, and I didn’t see how my lateness mattered. Of course, if I had a GPS gadget, I could have come straight here. Maybe I’d get one for my next car.

“Follow me,” the woman said as she limped off.

We traversed a brightly lit hall with only two closed doors at the other end. “I hate for you to walk this far for me. I can find it if you’ll just point out the door.”