Dead Man's Rules (38 page)

“I do.”

Her hand fell below his zipper. Yes, he did want her, every bit as much as she wanted him. She massaged him gently, fanning the flames inside herself as much as the fire in him.

“Let’s go to my room,” he said in a husky voice.

Cere shoved down her pants and panties in case he might change his mind. A fevered look of desire consumed his dark eyes. He wouldn’t stop this time. Half dressed, clinging to each other, they stumbled down the hall to his bedroom.

He lifted her onto the bed and moved back and removed a small foil packet from the bedside table.

“You keep a supply of those handy?”

His dark eyes glowed. “Don’t even joke about it. I may be losing my head, but I won’t toss away responsibility.”

She might have teased further, but he dropped his pants and shorts. The magnificent sight of his aroused body sent convulsions through her. No more joking. He leaned toward her and their lips met again. They fell back onto the bed, hands learning each other’s bodies as he claimed her. She welcomed him inside her whimpering with need. She had never felt so complete.

Their bodies moved together, setting a rhythm as smooth as ballroom dancers for a time and then growing fevered as sweet passion burst into the full blossom of satisfaction. Cere cried out his name, and he responded, until he shuddered inside her. She clasped him to her, nails digging into his skin.

“You’re very sweet,” he whispered into her ear.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re amazing.” Then impishly she added. “Tell me more about Marco.”

Their mixed laughter rang around the room.

Chapter Forty-One

Rafe was sleeping when she rose early the next morning. He didn’t move as she ran her hand along the rough stubble of his face. Her fingertips teased his long lashes. Tenderness filled her. She wanted to climb back into bed and stay with him. Nothing else mattered.

Much as the thought intrigued her, she couldn’t do it. Her mother would get up soon and see she had not come home. After a quick shower, while coffee brewed, Cere walked to his office. The sight of the piles on his desk made her smile. She might not be domestic, but she wanted to show him she could be if she cared.

Sitting on his leather chair she organized piles. In a few minutes she had a system worked out—business on one side, personal on another. Cere searched the desk for folders. The top drawer held pens and envelopes. A second drawer, labels and miscellaneous supplies. In the third drawer she found empty file folders.

She began putting the various papers into folders, until she opened a folder which wasn’t empty. Inside she spotted a smudged envelope with Marco’s handwriting. Why would Rafe have a letter? Had he taken it from Gus?

She pulled it out. The contents set her heart to pounding.

Stella, I am sorry. I should have been honest. I should have learned long ago that revenge is a petty motive that doesn’t help anything. Rosalie was right.

I knew you belonged to Art. I should never have pretended feelings I didn’t have. I do care but I can’t marry you.

My heart remains elsewhere and I can’t—won’t ever give up.

Please forgive me.

She re-folded the letter with shaking hands. What the hell was this about? Revenge? Hadn’t Marco given up that idea? Why did Rafe have this letter? Frantically she dug through the file looking for answers.

But things were different this morning. She was in love with Rafe. She needed to clear the air between them completely and that wouldn’t happen until all the questions about Marco were solved. She’d always wonder and he would fear for her safety.

During the night, she had felt they were holding back. She feared loving him, but she knew he’d held something back too. They didn’t totally trust each other.

A sudden noise at the back door startled her. Guiltily Cere slipped the envelope back in the folder and put it in the desk. Stella opened the back door. At least she thought it was Stella. Cere barely recognized her without make up.

“I brought Rafe breakfast.” She held out a brown bag.

“I just stopped by...I better go,” Cere said, but she feared his mother could see the truth. Her clothes were rumpled from being tossed on the floor, and she wore no make-up either. Not to mention that Rafe’s scent clung to her skin. Without looking back she hurried through the house, grabbed her purse and rushed out the front door.

****

Lottie sat in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand, watching a small television set on the counter when Cere entered.

“I was about to call Rafe’s to see if that’s where you were, but I figured you might be having too much fun.”

Her cheeks grew warm, but Cere knew her mother could probably see the glow in her eyes. She had never felt so vibrantly alive. Good thing Freeda wasn’t around. She’d never hear the end of it.

She poured a cup of coffee and sat across from her mother. “Sorry. I should have called.”

“I’m glad I didn’t know until I got up. I would have worried. But you’re a grown woman and Rafe’s a good man. I’m not going to lecture. I just hope you’re not playing with him.”

She had no idea what she was doing. Rafe had said he cared about her, wanted to take care of her, but he had not said he loved her. One thing was certain—he didn’t trust her. And she didn’t trust him.

What else was he keeping from her? Now she knew Marco had dumped Stella. A sudden thought hit her. Marco said revenge was worthless. But had Stella taken revenge on him? Could she have killed him? The thought sent a shiver through her.

“You care about him, don’t you?” Lottie asked, bringing her back to the present.

“Yes. I don’t think it’s going to do any good. Where would we live? He won’t go back to Los Angeles.”

“You sound like me and Marco. We were seventeen, but we didn’t think our worlds would work together.”

“You were running away. Would that have worked?”

“No, but I didn’t realize it until he was arrested. I learned I was too weak to make it work.” A faraway look came into her eyes. “And Marco? He was ready to reach for the stars. He was heading for the moon.”

“See? I want the moon. Rafe is grounded on earth.”

“Nothing wrong with that. You make him happy, and he does the same for you. I’ve seen how you look after Ginny. I never thought of you as motherly, but you can do it.”

“In a haphazard way.”

“Mothers don’t just sprout. We all have to learn.”

A change of subject was in order. She couldn’t discuss Rafe. “How was your date?”

Lottie’s face scrunched into a mass of wrinkles. “Tony is nice, but I keeping thinking about Bradley. I told you I used to have a crush on him. I guess he had a crush on me too, but he couldn’t do anything since he was married.”

“Such a dilemma. Two guys.” A gray strip of cardboard on the table caught her attention. “What’s that?”

Her mother pushed it to her. “I found it in the old stuff. Marco and I once sneaked off to a carnival in Taos.”

Cere picked up the strip of four black and white photos. They were the sort taken in a photo booth, but they provided a detailed close up of Marco’s face. “Oh, my gosh. His eyelashes.”

Lottie nodded, eyes growing misty. “You see it too.”

“Mom!” Her voice came out in a high squeal. “Is he...?” A weight descended, like a heavy blanket engulfing her. She jerked her face up to her mother as coldness invaded her. Suddenly the letter on Rafe’s desk made perfect sense. “Mom…Rafe…looks like…Marco!”

Her mother didn’t seem surprised. “Stella will never admit it, but it makes sense. I saw Marco once when he came back. He was dating her and made it clear he was over me. I could see he was as committed to his causes as he had been to chasing me. He wanted to know why I never responded to his letters. That was when I found out Rosalie had the letters. Neither of us realized how she felt about him. When I went to see Rosalie she threw them in my face. She’d hoped he would turn to her when he got out. Instead he started dating Stella.”

“Out of revenge? Against you...or Art?”

“Both, I guess. We were supposed to be his friends. Art was going to help us get away, but neither of us showed and then Bradley caught him with the money. We both let him go to jail.”

Everything was starting to come together, to make sense. “How was Stella revenge?”

“She broke up with Art to go out with him.”

Her throat was dry and she drank a sip of coffee, hoping to wet it. “Does Rafe know?”

“I don’t know. I immediately sensed a special connection to him and his little girl.
I knew.
I don’t know if others realize the resemblance. Marco was so long ago…”

She thought of Gus, Marco’s nephew with his long fluttering lashes. That was why she had not recognized Stella earlier. She had not been wearing her long, false lashes.

“Art must know.”

“Probably. They got married and moved to Albuquerque right after Marco died.”

Everything might be falling into place, but she didn’t like the direction things were going. A queasiness filled Cere’s stomach. She thought of Marco’s letter.
Revenge
. “All for love.” Suddenly the words made sense. Could one of those three people have killed him? Stella because he dumped her and wouldn’t marry her? Art, because Marco took his girl and got her pregnant? Rosalie, because he’d been unwilling to love her? Was that why she left and disappeared?

Three suspects. All from Rafe’s family.

A sudden ringing of the phone was so jarring she jumped. Lottie picked it up and held it out.

“Cere Medina?” said an unfamiliar voice.

“Yes?”

“This is Gary Riggins. I hear you’ve been trying to reach me.”

Her heart skipped and she gripped the receiver like a lifeline. “I am so glad to hear from you. I have so many questions I don’t know where to start.”

“Start tomorrow. I just got back and I’m up to my eyeballs. Give me a call then.”

She didn’t like to be put off, but she agreed to drive over to Santa Fe the next day. As he said goodbye, she thought of something else. “Wait! Do you know this number?” She’d called it so often she knew it by heart and read it off to him.

Paper rustled in the background. “Let me check my notes. Yeah, sure. Naldo Sanchez. Didn’t I read he died? That old man knew something, but I could never get it out of him.”

A cold chill ran through Cere. Naldo had been trying to reach her? He’d wanted to talk about Marco and hours later he’d been murdered. Someone stopped him from talking. Permanently.

How much of this did Rafe know? She’d sensed there was something else he was hiding. Was this it? Did he fear—or know—his father or mother had killed Naldo?

“He was murdered,” Cere said.

The phone clicked and then Riggins’ voice yelled across the line. “What the hell? You’re kidding? The hell with this mess here. I’ll be there tomorrow. I
knew
that old man was hiding something.”

“Police say robbery was the motive. He had a money box with cash.”

Riggins shouted a curse. “No! He kept going around in circles, telling me to stop studying the hand and study the writing. I never saw a damn thing, and he never let me quote him. You say he had money? That old man didn’t have a dime. I had to pay him to talk to him.”

“Do you think he was blackmailing someone?”

“What kind of reporter are you? Of course he was. They got tired of paying and offed the poor sucker. Maybe I’ll try and get there tonight. I’ll call you. We need to get to the Palladium.”

Cere hung up, the earth reeling under her feet.

Chapter Forty-Two

“Who was that?” Lottie asked. “You’re white as a sheet. Was it another threat?”

Cere faced her mother grimly. She’d been unable to move after hanging up. “Gary Riggins. He’s coming to Rio Rojo. He thinks Naldo knew the truth about Marco’s death. That’s why he was killed.”

Her mother’s gulp was audible. “Why would he keep quiet all these years?”

“Blackmail? That’s what Riggins thinks. It bothered me that there was so much cash in that box. Where did he get it? He was old, retired with no pension, no job.”

A shadow of concern crossed Lottie’s face. “Maybe you should call Rafe.”

Rafe!
The one person she couldn’t call. Did he know who killed Naldo? Was that why he opposed her investigating? No, that honorable man would never ignore his duty.

Or was this a sacrifice of his honor to protect his father or mother? Had Stella killed Naldo because she feared the truth coming out, not only about Marco, but her son as well? Or had Art wanted to keep the old man quiet? Perhaps he attacked Marco in a fit of rage after learning about his fathering a child with Stella out of revenge. Since Marco had lived in Naldo’s garage just before his death, it made sense that the old man knew what was going on.

The phone rang again and she jumped. She moved away, her eyes sliding to her mother in a silent plea. Lottie answered and held it out to Cere.

“Talk to him,” she whispered.

So much had happened since she rose from Rafe’s bed hours ago. She took the receiver with shaking hands and said a quick hello.

“Good morning, sweet Cere.” The warmth in his voice might otherwise have made her melt. Not now. “I missed you this morning. Why didn’t you wake me?”

She tried to adopt a light tone as her mother exited the room. “I was trying to keep from scandalizing Mom, but she was already up. She’s more worried about you than she is about me.”

“I wonder why.” His low chuckle vibrated across the line.

“Rafe...”

“I like the sound of my name coming from you, sweet Cere.”

His words and tone made her tingle, but she made a face. “Now what?”

“Is that why you ran off? Is that why you sound so strange?”

“We gave all these reasons why we weren’t going to get involved and then...”

“Don’t say to let it go.”

Her throat felt dry, and a huge lump grew in it. “We live in different worlds.”

He exhaled sharply. “So?”

“I’ll come by later. I’m working on the Naldo story, and I might have new information...”