Still the One (12 page)

She put one slender hand to her temple. After a long moment, she looked up. “It’s the guy who came to your office.”

“I think so.”

“He has something to do with Liz. We know that for sure now.”

“Yes.” And Eddie’s execution-style murder was a mob trademark, which was another piece of information that jived with Tony’s story.

Kit jumped up, looking around frantically as if unsure where to go. “We’ve got to find her, right now.”

“We’re doing all we can.”

“Stop standing there! What if that happens to my sister? What if she’s shot?” She turned away, the towel falling to the patio. “We can’t let that happen. We’ve got to find her. I hired you to find her.”

He knew emotion, not reason, was talking, but that didn’t stop the slash of pain he felt at her words. He’d never failed her; he wasn’t about to start now. “Until we get a lead, it’s stupid to go off on a wild-goose chase.”

“There’s got to be somewhere we haven’t looked, someone we haven’t talked to. Have you done everything you know to do?”

“Do you have any ideas? I’m open.”

“Maybe I should hire someone else.”

“That’s your choice,” he said coldly, his voice lashing at her. “But you’ve got to calm down. I’m doing everything that’s possible at this point. I’m waiting on a call from Craig, who may have found something on Tony’s computer, but even if he hasn’t, we’re not going off half-cocked. We’ll hear from Liz or Tony or someone who’s seen them. It’s only been twenty-four hours since I put the information on the Internet.”

“What if no one contacts us? Then what do we do?”

He refused to even consider the possibility. “You’ve got to be patient.”

“
You
be patient!” She stalked to him, eyes glittering, mouth drawn tight. “That’s not your sister out there. It
wasn’t your sister who was run off the road and could’ve been killed just like Eddie Sanchez.”

Her eyes were angry, but clear. And alive. Relief washed through him. He hadn’t seen any emotion since this morning by the creek. “We’ll find her, Kit. I know the waiting is hard, but we’re covering our bases right now.”

Her shoulders sagged. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“I know. This is the most frustrating part of any case, trying to wring a lead out of somewhere, waiting until one turns up. I’ve also ordered a background check on Eddie Sanchez. That might tell us something. But Craig’s our best bet right now, until Liz calls.”

“So we just need to hope Craig finds something on Tony’s computer.”

“Right.”

She stilled, her eyes narrowing. “Computer! Maybe she’s e-mailed me! Why didn’t I think of that before?”

“She said she’d call, but that’s a good idea. Let’s check it out.”

Kit suddenly became a blur of motion. She snatched the towel from where it had fallen on the patio, whirled and started for the house. “It’ll just take me a minute to change.”

“Okay. I’ll call Craig again.”

“Thanks.” She turned at the door. “Sorry for losing it a while ago.”

“You’re entitled.” His gaze met hers. With the towel draped over one pale shoulder, her hair wet and slicked back, she looked small. Vulnerable.

Which made him feel like a class-A idiot for rejecting her at the creek, yet how could he have done anything else? They wouldn’t work. They never had.

“I know you’re doing everything you can,” she said carefully, awkwardly. “I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t trust you.”

“I know.” His throat went tight. “I’ll wait in the study for you. We can check your e-mail from my computer.”

“All right.” She slid open the patio door and hurried across the living room, then disappeared around the corner and down the hall.

Hating the distance between them, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want her to get her hopes up, but maybe Liz had e-mailed instead of calling. He doubted it, but checking would make Kit feel she was doing something. And she desperately needed to feel useful, he realized. In control.

That sense of being needed, being responsible was a core part of her, something she probably couldn’t change even if she wanted to. Just like he couldn’t stop the anger that occasionally still swamped him over the night blindness that had forced him out of his pilot’s seat.

He stepped into the house, locked the patio door and picked up the living room extension to call Craig. Why hadn’t he ever seen how important being needed was to Kit? By wanting her to force Liz to grow up, was he asking her to turn away from a vital piece of herself?

He
wasn’t
asking her, he reminded himself. And Kit wasn’t going to suddenly let go of the responsibility she felt. Her cool independence, the remoteness in her eyes when she looked at him was a blaring announcement that she’d gotten his message at the creek. The distance between them pierced something deep inside him. Rafe didn’t like it, but he also wasn’t going to change it.

There had been no message from Liz on Kit’s answering machine, no e-mail on her computer. Disappointment a stabbing pain in her chest, Kit had ached to turn into Rafe’s broad chest, cry out her frustration and her growing fear, but she hadn’t.

The memory of how she’d cried at the creek kept her
from it. Just another humiliation in a day Kit wished she could forget.

Lying in his guest bed hours later, her thoughts spun from Rafe’s rejection to Eddie Sanchez’s murder to Liz’s whereabouts. Kit’s swim in the pool had exhausted her, but she couldn’t sleep. All that had happened today had her emotions ricocheting.

There was a link between Eddie Sanchez’s murderer and Tony. What if Alexander and his men had already found Tony and Liz? Icy fear slithered through her.

She had to believe Liz was still safe or she’d go crazy. Dealing with Rafe was enough to make her go
there.
She forced her eyes shut, but images of him teased. His woodsy scent was as strong on her now as it had been when his mouth had blazed a trail of fire over her flesh, his phantom touch as provocative as when his hands had curved over her breasts.

Her belly tightened in response, and she forced herself to recall how he’d pushed her away. The memory was enough to send a fresh surge of humiliation through her. What had she been thinking to kiss him like that? Why had she ever thought there could be a second chance for them?

He’d made clear what he wanted from her—exactly nothing. As painful as it was to recall the memory of his unequivocal rejection, Kit did it. She couldn’t lean on him any more. For ten years, she’d done fine without him. She’d do fine now.

Mixed with the sting of his rejection was the growing fear that Liz was probably in greater danger than Kit first imagined. Why hadn’t her sister called? She glanced at the pillow beside her, saw that the phone was on and charged.

Rafe had called his office manager, Nita, and told her that their mysterious visitor had also likely been seen at Eddie Sanchez’s apartment before Eddie’s murder. Rafe’s suggestion that Nita carry her gun to the office for the next
few days, as well as his arrangement for an off-duty police officer to stay in the office during Nita’s work hours, only heightened the fear swelling inside Kit.

The fact that he recognized a definite threat to her sister, and possibly others, scared her silly. And kept the horror of Liz’s car being run off the road in the forefront of Kit’s mind. She willed the phone to ring.

Nerves stretched thin, she threw back the blue-and-white windowpane comforter, then reached across the polished mahogany bedside table to switch on the frosted glass lamp. She picked up the mystery novel she’d started at least four times in the last week. Had Eddie Sanchez known something that might’ve led Rafe and Kit to her sister and Tony? And if so, had Eddie’s murderer managed to get that information? Was one of Alexander’s men even now following a lead completely unknown to Kit and Rafe?

The questions twisted viciously in her mind. She forced her attention to the book, only to find her thoughts wandering after a few sentences. The doubt she’d managed to dodge all day seeped in. Rafe had hit, with unerring aim, on a question she could no longer ignore. Could she commit fully to him? She didn’t know.

She closed her book, got out of bed and walked to the window, opening the wooden blinds. Moonlight rippled across the pool’s water. A cloudless pewter sky sparkled with bright diamonds of light. Her satin nightgown drifted down her body, rousing again the feel of Rafe’s hands on her.

Tortured by her thoughts, Kit closed her eyes and struggled to clear her mind.

A phone rang. Her eyes flew open. Her cell phone!

“Rafe!” she called, diving onto the bed to grab the phone. “Rafe!”

She punched the button. “Yes, hello! Hello! Liz?”

“Sis!”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Kit choked back a sob and a dozen questions. “How are you?”

“Fine, so far. I can’t talk long.”

“Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”

“No! Kit, there could be men following—”

“I know!”

The door to Kit’s bedroom banged open and Rafe rushed in, wearing only a pair of low-slung gray cotton shorts.

“Is it Liz?” he asked.

She nodded, sitting back on her folded legs and motioning for him to sit beside her on the bed. He eased down, his bare shoulder brushing hers.

“Who’s that?” Liz asked. “A private investigator?”

“Yes.” Kit wasn’t getting into the story of Rafe right now.

“Tell me where you are.”

“Tony says I can’t say anything directly.”

She nearly screamed. “I can’t get to you if I don’t know where you are.”

“I need money, sis. Just wire it. Please. You can’t meet me.”

Rafe pressed closer, his slightly stubbled jaw tickling her. She positioned the phone so he could hear better.

“We went to see Eddie Sanchez today, Liz.”

“He doesn’t know anything,” her sister said quickly. Too quickly.

“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” Kit agreed.

“Tell her,” Rafe whispered.

“He’s dead, Liz. He’s been murdered.”

“Oh, my gosh!” her sister shrieked. “Tony!”

Liz explained to Tony; Kit heard his deeper voice urging her to do something. Rafe’s hand was hot on the sheet behind her; his hair-roughened thigh nudged hers where her gown had ridden up.

“Was it Alexander?” Liz asked soberly.

“We’re not sure. We think so.”

“It was. Tony, what are we going to do?” her sister wailed.

“Liz, tell me where you are.” Kit hoped the startling news about Eddie would scare some sense into her sister.

“Has Alexander or one of his men been following you?”

“They were at first. I haven’t seen them for a couple of days. What did Eddie know, Liz? Why would someone kill him?”

“Tony says I have to hang up. Send the money, Kit.”

“Get her to tell you where she is,” Rafe whispered. “Get a phone number.”

Kit nodded. “Where are you? Are you calling from a pay phone? Give me a number.”

“Kit, you can’t meet me. If those guys are following you, you’ll just lead them straight to us! Is that what you want?”

She glanced at Rafe, shook her head. “How much do you need?”

“A thousand dollars, fifteen hundred, if you can. That’ll hold us until Tony gets what he needs from Alexander’s computer. I’ll pay it back. I swear. Tony says he will, too.”

“Okay, I’ll wire it from my bank first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, sis. Do you think you can do that by eight o’clock?”

“Yes, but you have to tell me where.”

Rafe gave her a thumbs-up, his hand resting against her thigh.

“Remember when I was a sophomore in high school?”

“What?” Kit blinked. Where had this come from?

Rafe made a sound deep in his throat.

“Liz, this isn’t the time.”

“Remember the first time I went to the senior prom?”

“Tell me where you are!”

“I am, Kit. Listen to me.”

She noted the uncharacteristic calm in Liz’s voice, and the steadiness took Kit off guard. She went still. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

“Remember who I went with to that prom?”

Kit frowned. Liz had dated so many guys. Jocks, musicians, race car drivers.

“He drove a red Camaro, jacked up in the back.
Not
the guy who drove a pickup. The red Camaro. That’s where we are. Wire the money to this check-cashing place.” Liz rattled off a company name. Kit leaned to reach her purse.

Rafe snatched it and gave her a pen so she could jot down the name.

“I’ve got to go. Tony’s about to have a heart attack because I’ve been on here so long.”

“Liz—”

“Oh, one more thing. I thought about moving here once! Love ya!” The phone went dead.

“Liz?” Kit yelled. “Liz?”

Nothing.

She clicked off her phone and bowed her head, trying to focus on the relief she felt rather than the frustration boiling inside her.

After a long minute, Rafe nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey, she’s okay. They both are. That’s good.”

“Yes, and I want to strangle her.” She gestured wildly. “We wait and wait on her, then she calls with this?”

“So, who was it? Who’d she go to the prom with?”

“How am I supposed to remember that?” Kit looked at him. “One year, she went with one guy and came home with another.”

“Think, Kit. She’s giving us a clue.” Rafe’s gaze flickered to her breasts, then returned to her eyes. Cool, unreadable, all business. Still, she became suddenly, uncomfortably aware that her breast pressed into his arm.

Rafe went on, completely undeterred from his train of thought. “Tony won’t let her stay on the phone long and he won’t let her say anything directly. He’s cautious. That’s good. If she’s calling and she says she’s fine, then she is.”

“Okay, okay.” Gritting her teeth, she cleared her mind of everything except her sister’s wacky clues. “She also said she’d once thought about moving to this place.”

“Right. Where?”

“Hollywood with Ryan. Dallas with Mitchell.” She unfolded her legs and slid off the bed. The feel of all that hot, hard muscle made her nerves raw. “Santa Fe with Dusty. Kansas City with Lee. See a pattern?”

“Great.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “Let’s try to figure out the guy’s name first. Who was her prom date her sophomore year?”