Silver Sparks (15 page)

“A retail showdown?”

“Why not? Because who knows what other business will be next? Will we all have to tiptoe around, making sure not to piss off the De Lucas? Or do we stand up to them by showing them they can’t get away with it?”

“By buying something from Fortune’s Folly.”

She nodded, then nervously chewed her thumbnail. “What do you think?”

He was silent for several seconds as he thought about it. “I think it won’t work.”

Instantly, her brows slammed down as her temper shot up. “I knew it! You’re opposed to anything I want to do.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! And if it would help you prove that Rafe is a killer, I’d let them trash my reputation, I really would. But I’m not going to roll over and play dead while the De Lucas trash my sister’s professional reputation before she barely even has one. So unless you have a better idea, I intend to play the pity card, because it can’t hurt and it might help.”

With a satisfied huff, she crossed her arms and stared him down.

Cal pinned her with a direct look. “I didn’t say it’s a bad plan. In fact, I think you’re onto something.”

She squinted suspiciously. “You do?”

“Yes. But I think it won’t work if you run to the press with a sob story about how the De Lucas are victimizing you. It’ll just make you look whiny and petty.”

“I don’t intend to whine. I intend to give them cold, hard facts. Present my case objectively.”

“Because so far the press has shown a real fondness for objective reporting?”

Damn it, he was right. She bit her lip, unwilling to back down so easily. Besides, it was her only idea. “You said it wasn’t a bad idea.”

“It isn’t. I just don’t think you should be the one to implement it. People don’t respond to self-pity. But you’re right about their responding to the underdog. So what do you think about having Rick pick this up as a heart-wringing story about the little guy getting trampled by the evil De Lucas? He’s an objective source—well, as far as anyone knows, anyway. And once he starts the story I think he might be willing to urge others to play it up.”

She stared for a few seconds, surprised. Then grinned. “I like it! That could work! Very insightful,” she admitted. “For a cop.” Couldn’t let him get too cocky.

“And notice how I asked what you thought about it instead of saying ‘This is what we’re going to do’? It’s called teamwork, Larkin.”

The admonition didn’t ruin her happiness. “True, I’m not used to consulting anyone. But I graciously admit that your idea is better than mine. I’ll call Rick right now, then I’ll pick up Amber.”

“Okay. I’ll get in touch when I get back this evening.” Without warning, he pulled her close and kissed her until her head spun. “Maggie,” he murmured next to her ear, wrecking even more havoc with her equilibrium. “I have other good ideas. And I’m
very
big on teamwork.”

She was still staring as he walked out the door.

A dozen possible responses leapt to her mind, smart-ass comments about showing him some real teamwork, or confident declarations that she’d be the judge of whether his ideas were good. Or the safe response—
I thought we weren’t going to do this
. Or the one she yearned to say—
Can that trip to Denver wait another hour?

But he was already gone, so he’d have to just wonder how she felt about it. She wasn’t sure herself, but she was leaning toward exploring that teamwork idea, and it made her nervous.

Men never made Maggie nervous. The fact that Cal Drummond did shook her clear down to her toes.

She couldn’t think about him, not if she was going to get anything done today. She started by calling Rick about the article, getting the expected enthusiastic response. Feeling herself again, she drove to the Lost Canyon Lodge to pick Amber up on her way to Fortune’s Folly.

Amber didn’t waste time dithering over what to say. As soon as she settled in the car, she asked, “Are you sleeping with my brother?”

Maggie ignored the sudden flutter of nerves and shot her a get-real look. “Do you really expect me to answer that?”

Amber smirked as she lowered the visor mirror and started applying makeup. “None of my business, right? That’s what Cal said. I think that means yes.”

“Think what you want. Just don’t talk about it to those people in the cars following us. We’re going to pretend you’re my part-time employee, but if they somehow corner you when you’re not in the store, your answer to any question they ask you will be, ‘No comment.’ Don’t volunteer anything, ever.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already heard it from Cal. And I’m not stupid, you know. Hollywood’s crawling with paparazzi. I see them all the time, and I know how they work.”

Maggie didn’t point out that seeing them was hardly the same as being their quarry. Amber had the confidence that went with being sixteen years old and knowing all the answers. Hopefully, she had some street smarts to go with it.

At least she was interested enough in retail sales to be useful. Maggie put her to work inventorying the jewelry while she dealt with her insurance agent, various repair people, and more questions from the police. The morning went by so fast she didn’t even notice it was past noon until Rick Grady banged on the locked front door, holding up a large take-out bag from the Silver Nugget across the street.

She let him in, inhaling the aroma of the Nugget’s specialty burgers and fries. Her stomach growled in anticipation as she peeked in the bag. “That’s so thoughtful, Rick! But you don’t have to buy us lunch. I’ll pay you back.”

“Pay Cal, he’s the one who called in the order.” He turned full circle, taking in the destruction. “Damn, that truck wiped out the whole front of the store. What’d he do, back up and ram it again and again?”

“He had a snow blade on the front.” Turning, she called out, “Amber! We have lunch!”

Rick backed up, shoving his glasses up his nose as he eyed the boarded front window and wrecked shelves like an artist contemplating his model. “You mind if I take some pictures? They’d really help sell that article you and Cal want me to write. Which is a brilliant idea, by the way. I’ll have people so sympathetic toward you . . .” He broke off as Amber sauntered out of the back room. “Hello.”

She gave him a glance. “Hi.” Her gaze settled on the bag in Maggie’s hand. “What do we have? I’m starved.”

She handed it over. “Amber, this is Rick Grady. He’s a reporter who’s helping us go after Rafe.”

“Cal told me.” Apparently Cal had filled her in on everything, and nothing could compete with food. She pulled out two Styrofoam containers and two large drinks, setting them on the glass top of the surviving display case. Five seconds later she closed her eyes blissfully over a large mouthful of the Miner’s Special Deluxe Bacon Cheeseburger.

The heck with the table in the back room. Maggie unwrapped her burger and took a bite, standing across from Amber. Rick leaned on one end of the case, watching Amber eat. “I heard about your sister, Amber. I’m sorry.”

Amber’s eyes flickered and she stopped chewing for a second, darting a glance at Rick. “Thanks.” Maggie winced in sympathy; the stiff response obviously hid a world of pain.

“What was Julie like? I’ll bet she was pretty, like you.”

Maggie gave him a cautionary frown, but he wasn’t looking at her. Amber answered softly, “Julie was prettier than me.”

“Did she have any special talents? Like singing, or drawing . . .”

Maggie lowered her hamburger and opened her mouth to drop a strong hint to change the subject, but before she could say anything, Amber smiled at Rick. “Julie was real good with hair. That’s an art, you know. She had her beautician’s license and was going to get a job at Universal Studios.”

“No kidding? Good for her!”

Amber nodded. “She had a contact there. You have to, if you want to get in anywhere.” Munching on fries, she began telling Rick about Julie’s career plans, her personality, and the guy she’d dated who later costarred in a big action film and now dated only “name” actresses. She was animated and obviously happy remembering her sister. Maggie mentally kicked herself for not encouraging her to talk about Julie earlier. Cal still beat himself up with guilt when Julie’s name came up, but Amber had been close to her sister. She needed to keep the memory alive. She told Rick anything he asked about, and more.

Rick was another surprise. He hadn’t seemed the sensitive type, but Maggie had to admit that talking about Julie was excellent therapy for Amber. She laughed as she related an incident to Rick, and even offered him some fries. Rick helped himself, flashing a perfect smile in thanks, looking downright charming.

Maggie narrowed her eyes. Wait a minute—how old was Rick anyway? She guessed about forty, which was too old to be bonding with a sixteen-year-old girl, especially one whose tough façade barely covered the recent loss of her sister and a mother who regularly threw her aside in favor of her boyfriend du jour. True, he didn’t sneak glances at Amber’s generous breasts or ask uncomfortable, personal questions, but there was no doubt he’d established a trust between them. It could be harmless, but . . .

Cal would want her to be protective. Nervously Maggie crinkled used napkins and prepared to cut Rick short as soon as she could interrupt Amber.

“Julie could handle people, you know? They never took advantage of her.” Amber paused, her pride in her sister slowly collapsing into pain. She stared at the french fry she held, unseeing. “That’s why I didn’t worry about her going out with Rafe, even when she said he was bossy. You know, a real alpha male. She liked that type. She could always . . .” Amber swallowed hard. “She thought she could handle him,” she finished in a weak voice.

Rick shook his head. “He’s more than domineering, Amber. It’s not Julie’s fault she couldn’t handle that, or your fault you didn’t know it. Rafe’s not normal. He’s sick.”

“He’s evil,” Amber pronounced. Her brown eyes speared Rick as her face turned cold and hard. “He deserves to die. But I want to torture him first, and make him cry and beg. Then slash his throat, the same as he did to Julie.”

Well, so much for their pleasant lunch.

“Hey, Rick,” Maggie said, “aren’t you supposed to be watching Rafe, keeping track of where he is?”

Rick didn’t look perturbed. “I know exactly where he is—at a house about a mile from here, with the whole production company and the other pampered Brats. They’re filming Rafe taking over child care duties for the day. Poor kids. It’s a closed set; I can’t get on the property. So, as long as Rafe is babysitting the kids, I don’t have to babysit him.”

Wonderful. Now she had to babysit Rick to keep him from digging around in Amber’s mind—as if she didn’t have enough to do.

Her annoyance must have showed. Rick took one look at her and straightened. “But I do have an article to write, so I should be going.” He slung his camera over his shoulder, but didn’t move. “Um, Maggie, I wondered if I could talk to you about that article.”

“Sure. What’s the problem?” The way his eyes kept glancing nervously away, it looked like there was one.

“I guess you and Cal talked about having me sell it to one of the tabloids.”

“Of course. They’re the ones who are chasing after me trying to create emotional issues, and we thought you could play it up.”

“Oh yeah, I can. But the thing is, the tabloids don’t want to deal with me since the De Lucas pressured them about that picture of Rafe hitting that girl.” At her disappointed look, he rushed to add, “But don’t worry. I think we can do even better. Those papers aren’t the only ones following you around. You’re hot news and you’ve got TV stations all across the spectrum chasing after you. I’ve been talking with some of the guys from their crews, just networking, you know? And I think I might be able to convince one of them to do a piece on you as the victim of the De Lucas’ power play. That’s good exposure, Maggie. I might even get it on
Entertainment Tonight
. Or
Good Morning America
. What do you say?”

She bit her lip and thought it over. She hadn’t realized Rick’s break with the tabloids was so severe, but he might be right about the TV shows being able to spin it into exactly what they wanted. The visuals of her store would certainly encourage speculation, if they could get a camera crew in before the contractors started repairs.

She nodded. “Okay, do it. But we have to make it look like I’m letting them in reluctantly. As a favor, because I know you, not because I want them to do a story about me. Remember, we have no proof the De Lucas are behind this. I’m just the victim of a random attack and a freak accident.
They
have to be the ones to raise suspicions about who might be behind it.”

He held up a hand. “I got it, I got it. I’ll call you guys when it’s set up. Is it okay if we arrange to do it today?”

“You’re that sure they’ll go for it?’

He grinned. “Oh, yeah. This has scandal written all over it, and they’ve been desperate for the next episode in the Rafe and Maggie saga.”

She’d been convinced it was a good idea until Rick ran with it. Now she wondered if she was stepping into quicksand and about to get sucked in over her head. She didn’t know what could go wrong, but she had a bad feeling that if something did, it would be on a big scale. A
Good Morning America
scale.