Till Justice Is Served (18 page)

"You know I was joking about getting mellow. I was trying to get a rise out of you."

"You succeeded." Rafe texted Linc, who agreed to come to the house. "Take the next exit. There used to be a mom-and-pop burger place at the bottom of the ramp."

****

Erin heard the engine rumble down Rafe's driveway. By the time she made it to the door, he and his partner were coming up the sidewalk. Her heart did a funny flutter. What the heck? She tried to turn away but failed. Nothing good could come from drooling or daydreaming about Rafe Sirilli. Her feet seemed to have taken root, rendering her brain's command to turn away useless. His long muscular legs covered the space between them in mere seconds. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, but his face wore a troubled expression.

She opened the door and let him and Colton pass. "Something smells good."

The taut lines around Rafe's mouth relaxed. "We brought lunch."

Before she could speak, the sacks were whisked from Rafe's hand, and Colton was headed for the dining room. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I hope you're not one of those health nuts who doesn't eat meat or fats."

"Ignore him," Rafe said with a laugh. "Colton loses his Southern charm if he gets too hungry." Rafe scooped a sack from the table, removed a burger and fries, then handed the rest to her. "Hide this, will you? I invited Linc to join us."

"Do we have to wait for him?" Colton helped himself to a french fry before backing away from the table. "I just wanted to make sure the fries were hot."

"He should be here any second." Erin bit back a smile when Rafe's forehead furrowed. He was curious as to how she knew that tidbit of information. "He was at home, so he called to see if I needed anything from my house. I asked him to grab my briefcase."

"How'd he get inside?" Rafe asked. "Don't tell me you still keep a spare key hidden under the flower pot by the door." The furrows between his eyes deepened.

"No, silly. I moved it after Jeff used it to let you inside. It's in a baggie and taped underneath the wheelbarrow in the backyard."

"You hide your house key under a wheelbarrow?" Colton grinned.

"I do now." They were teasing her, but she felt the need to defend herself. "I bought it at a yard sale and repurposed it into a flower bed."

"Flower pot." Rafe held out his hands, palms up, and pretended to be weighing something. "Wheelbarrow. They're the same thing to a thief." 

"This isn't Dallas or Fort Worth. A lot of residents don't lock their doors at all."

"All I have to say is Linc had better hurry. I've had my share of cold burgers and soggy fries over the years. Not my favorite meal." Colton leaned over the dining table, nabbed another fry, and popped it into his mouth. The corners of his mouth turned downward. "Let's eat."

"I'll see what's keeping him." Erin picked up her cell and dialed Linc's number. The call went to voice mail. "He's not answering."

C
HAPTER 16

Casanova's vision blurred. The trembling of his hands matched the volcano about to erupt inside his head.

Why was Erin doing this? Hadn't he proved himself? Passed test after test, demonstrating his love again and again? Still, she flaunted these men in front of him. Why had they picked up her mail?

And now Linc? Casanova had known the bastard was going to be trouble the minute they'd met. Linc had parked in front of her garage and was headed around behind her house. What was going on inside? Casanova dropped the binoculars and ran. Taking action in the daylight was dangerous, but exposing himself was a risk he had to take.

With no weapon, no plan, and only anger to fuel him, he boldly crossed the street and rushed to her backyard. The door was standing wide open, and Linc had picked up Erin's briefcase. Casanova ran inside, snatched a trophy off the bookcase and swung, hitting the bastard from behind. The top of the trophy broke off its base.

The neighbor staggered, lost his balance, and fell. His head made a soft thud on the carpet. He pushed himself up on his elbow. Panic rushed through Casanova. He couldn't be allowed to live. The heavy marble base of the broken trophy lay at his feet. He grabbed it and swung again. He continued until one side of the bastard's head and face looked like ground meat.

Linc lay still as death. A buzzing sound came from his pocket. Someone was calling, but there was no one to answer.

Where was Erin? Casanova raced through the house, searching. Empty. What did this mean? Where was she? Worse yet, who was she with?

Satisfied another bad influence had been permanently removed from Erin's life, Casanova planned his escape route. He'd taken a huge risk by walking across the street and had no intention of doing it again. He wet two kitchen towels and washed blood spatters off his face, neck, arms, and hands. The same towels were used to wrap up the pieces of the trophy. Careful not to touch anything, and thankful for the dark shirt he wore, he held the towels against his chest, left through the backyard, and took the long way back to his car.

There wasn't a twinge of regret in his heart. This death was not his fault. He'd killed the two girls and the reporter because they'd wronged Erin, but the neighbor's death rested solely on Erin's shoulders.

Now, he had to find Erin.

****

"I hate that we ate without Linc." Erin dropped her napkin in the empty burger sack.

"He wouldn't expect us to wait," Rafe said. "Agents and cops get used to eating cold food and leftovers."

"Amen to that." Colton slid his chair back from the table.

"Won't be the first meal he's missed." Rafe opened the refrigerator door. "Who wants another beer?"

"I do, but I'd better not." Colton's gaze caught hers. "He's right. It doesn't matter which brand of law enforcement you work for, you're going to miss a few meals. Spouses get used to eating alone."

"I'll take one. You're not telling me anything I didn't know," she said, using her most pleasant tone. "My adopted dad is a retired deputy sheriff."

"So I heard." Colton leaned forward and snagged a leftover fry.

Rafe set two beers on the table and leaned back in his chair. "I'm left to assume I was the topic of conversation since you two stopped talking altogether when I joined you." His grin sent her heart tumbling.

"Not to burst your vanity bubble," Colton said, "but we were talking about different branches of law enforcement."

"That's right," she agreed. "I was just going to ask Colton what made him choose the law as a career."

"Not a topic for the dinner table." Colton's blue eyes deepened to almost navy.

Erin decided not to push the subject. "Then one of you can tell me what you learned from interviewing Grace and Melanie." A shield dropped across Rafe's face as he glanced at his partner. "I'm not asking you to reveal evidence. Just tell me if the girls are okay."

"Colton's going to keep an eye on them tonight." Rafe checked his watch.

"School's back in session tomorrow," she said. "You'll know where they are part of the time."

"Have you heard when you're going back to work?" Rafe's eyes softened, indicating his understanding of how important being reinstated was to her.

"Nothing yet." They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, but Erin sensed Rafe getting edgy. He'd checked his watch a couple of times in the span of five minutes. "Want me to call Linc again?"

"No." Rafe tilted the can and finished his beer. "Colton wanted to share surveillance duties with him."

"I spotted the perfect place to watch the entrance to the girls' neighborhood. If they leave, I'm on them." Colton stood and looked directly at Rafe. "You start feeling bad about me being there all night"—he flashed a brilliant smile—"bring me some coffee."

Rafe grunted or scoffed, she couldn't tell which, but it was some kind of communication between the two men, because they both laughed. He walked Colton to the edge of the sidewalk. Erin followed, stopping on the porch.

"You be caref—" Rafe said.

"Yes, Mom," Colton said, sliding behind the steering wheel of his pickup. "I'm thinking this could be fun. It's been awhile since I was on a stakeout without having to entertain you."

"As if," Rafe said, retreating to stand beside Erin.

****

Colton's gaze swept across the house and lawn before returning to meet Rafe's. "I can see you growing up here. Small town, close friends, neighborhood cookouts, and Friday night football."

He backed out of the driveway, leaving no time for Rafe to comment. Actually, Colton had sized up the place pretty well. How was a mystery. He hadn't been exposed to what Rafe would call normal family life. In fact, Colton had had a shitty childhood. Raised by his grandparents, he'd grown up in a particularly rough neighborhood in Houston. Football had bought him a ticket to college, and he'd made the most of his time at school. Not only was Colton street-smart, but he was intelligent as hell. He might dress and talk country, but it was a mistake to think him stupid.

Erin's hand slid up Rafe's back, spreading heat as she went.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." He caught her hand and pulled her closer to him. She molded herself against his body, fitting like a well-made glove. A combination of need and lust rushed through him, sending his blood south. That she drew such a quick reaction from him was scary as hell. "Better now that you're standing so close."

"I didn't mean to pressure Colton when I asked why he decided to go into law enforcement."

"You didn't."

"I made him uncomfortable. It was like a glacier formed behind his eyes."

Rafe wasn't sure about sharing too much of his partner's personal information with her, so he decided to keep things brief. "Colton had a rough childhood. I don't know all of it, but his stepfather was abusive. Colton's mother had moved out and filed for divorce when his stepfather killed her and Colton's little sister and shot Colton."

"How horrible." Erin patted her chest. Sorrow filled her voice.

"Bastard committed suicide thinking he'd killed the entire family. Colton survived."

Erin buried her face in Rafe's neck. "I won't mention his past again."

"That's best. We'd worked together a long time before he told me."

"How long have you two been partners?"

"Forever." Rafe laughed. He pulled Erin under his arm and led her back to the house. "Three years in real time." He held the door open, allowing her to enter. He immediately missed the sensation of her body touching his. "I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back."

Erin walked to the stack of open boxes that he'd set to the side. She lifted the flaps and peered inside. "I worry that you talked to Grace and Melanie. Do you think they're in danger?"

"I wish I had a good answer for you. If whoever is selling the drugs learns they spoke with us, they might try to shut them up. Lucky for us, their neighborhood is gated. There's only one road in and out, which isn't uncommon for houses of that value. Colton will monitor the vehicles going in and out."

"Good." She pulled out a worn baseball glove and ran her fingers across the weathered leather. "Packing away all these memories must be hard."

"Not really." Her expression said she knew he lied. "I kept all that stuff for Luke. I left the cartons open so he could go through them. He'll want to keep some things even if they have to go into storage."

"When will he get home?"

"He's coming off his last assignment."

"And you're relieved."

"Hell, yeah. Those special ops guys pull some scary-as-shit missions."

"He won't be your baby brother any longer."

"He wasn't the last time I saw him. Jesus, the kid had almost caught up with me."

She replaced the glove, removed a school yearbook, and opened it. A few seconds later, her gaze lifted and met his. "This is yours."

Rafe put on his best puzzled look and challenged her. "Are you sure?" He knew the answer. Just didn't want to get into another conversation about the old days.

She raised an eyebrow. "The people who signed the book addressed their comments to you." She moved to the couch, sat, and kicked off her shoes. "Did you keep anything for yourself?"

"A couple of small things." Her counselor background was about to get her in trouble. She was asking too many personal questions. Maybe the truth would stop her before she got started advising him on regrets. "I don't have room in my life or apartment for a lot of extras."

Her head recoiled as if he'd slapped her.

Damn. That had sounded a lot harsher than he'd intended. But he'd spoken the truth, and he'd stand by what he said.

In the blink of an eye, she recovered. A knowing smile slid across her face. "Wow. I believe I found a raw nerve."

He smiled back at her. "Are you looking for a fight?"

"Me? I'm constantly looking for ways to avoid trouble. It's becoming a full-time job." The corners of her mouth lifted. "Sounds like a very lonely existence to me."

"I've made peace with how I live."

"It's your life." She dropped the yearbook into the box and patted the spot next to her on the couch.

She didn't have to ask twice. He sat next to her. Her scent shot through him like floodwater over a dam. He fought the urge to nuzzle her neck and inhale the soft scent that was uniquely hers. Shifting his weight did little to relieve his growing erection. This case of lust was going to kill him.

"You should keep some of your dad's things. Rent a storage space if you have to, but someday, you'll have kids who will want to know about their family." She turned toward him, lifted her hand, and rubbed at the frown line between his eyes. "Oh, stop scowling. I'm not fishing, hinting, or trying to change your thoughts about marriage. I just don't want you to have any regrets."

He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. "I have plenty of them already."

"Are you talking about Nick? His death wasn't your fault. You must know that."

"I do." He pulled one of her fingers into his mouth and ran his tongue around the tip. Her pupils dilated, and her nostrils flared a fraction as she took in a deep breath. "We don't have time to list all my regrets, but you're right at the top."