Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) (15 page)

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Authors: Mari Manning

Tags: #Love, #humor, #redemption, #betrayal, #small town, #tarot, #Mari Manning, #Murder, #sexy, #Suspense, #Entangled, #greyhound, #Texas, #Kidnapping, #romantic suspense, #Mystery, #marriage, #hill country, #Romance, #cop, #Select Suspense

BOOK: Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas)
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Chapter Twenty

“Hold still.” Esme dabbed antiseptic on his nose with a cotton ball.

“Ouch.” Jamey jerked back. “That hurts.”

She clucked her tongue at him. “Not so tough after all.”

For the first time since he’d adopted Chip, Esme was in his house. He was alone with her. Unfortunately he was in too much pain to enjoy her company. “I think I broke my nose.”

“Hmm. Let me see.” She tilted his head up, and their eyes locked. Sympathy fluttered briefly in her eyes, then she blinked and looked away. “You should see a doctor.”

“I didn’t mean for what happened tonight to happen.”

She finished his thought. “But you’re not sorry it did.”

“I’m not. You can’t hide forever.”

“It’s not just about me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s Brooke. Even if I’m never heckled again, eventually someone in El Royo will say something to her. Maybe accidentally, maybe on purpose. Either way, it will sound ugly, and lots of people still remember what happened.”

“El Royo isn’t surrounded by a moat, Esme. Folks around here work all over the county, and go to restaurants and shops in the other towns. Some day she’s going to run into someone who will say something. You can’t stop it from happening.”

“I have to try.”

“No, Esme.
You
have to tell her first.”

Esme set the cotton ball down on the counter. “Tell her what?”

“Tell her what happened.” Her jaw dropped. “The little-girl version. But enough so she’s not blind-sided by some ass with a big mouth.”

The defiance drained from her face. She sank onto the stool beside him. “I know you’re right. Rafe said the same thing.” Gleaming hair fell around her shoulders as she dropped her head in her hands.

With hungry eyes, he traced the curve of her back beneath her thin yellow dress. “I know I promised not to kiss you—”

Esme’s head swung up.

“But we didn’t say anything about you kissing me.”

“Jamey, what you did for me tonight was amazing, but…”

“I didn’t do it just for you. I did it for me. For us.”

“What do you want from me?”

“My intentions are honorable. As honorable as the son of a Baptist minister’s intentions can get. I told Rafe that.”

Suspicion glittered in her dark eyes. “Rafe?”

“Your mother sent him here with a cease-and-desist order.”


Aye Dios Mio.
” The Spanish rolled off her tongue in a rich, sensuous wave.

He forgot about his throbbing nose and the mulish look in her eyes. He forgot about going slow. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen, and every woman I’ve met since, I’ve ended up comparing to you. They always come up wanting. Last year I ran into a guy from El Royo when I was in Dubai on leave. He told me you were back from vet school and still single. When I got back to Kenya, I gave notice. I came back to El Royo for you, Esme.”

Her dark eyes were shimmering and liquid as she studied him. She cupped his jaw with her hands. The odor of antiseptic clung to her fingers and stung his nose. Then the scent of wildflowers filled him as her hair brushed against his cheeks. Her lips were a warm brush against his mouth, then they were gone.

“I need to go.” She grabbed her purse and nearly ran from the kitchen.

“Call me.” He shouted after her, his body too aroused to move.

Her laughter floated through the bungalow, and it felt almost as good as the kiss.


By the time the ambulance carrying Sutton rattled across the plain to the medical center, the sun was rising and the county sheriff was tying up her investigation. There wasn’t much to find in the cabin—some unidentified fingerprints and an empty vial of thiopental sodium.

The sheriff approached Rafe and held up the clear evidence bag with the vial. “Must have gotten it from a vet. It’s animal grade. Has Dr. Ernesto or your sister noticed any drugs missing?”

“No, but maybe my father thought my sister used the vials and vice versa.”

The sheriff shook her head. “Shooting up humans with medications meant for horses. Sutton’s lucky the victim didn’t have a seizure or heart failure. But we got him on the kidnapping charges for Dinah, and maybe Hollyn Hollis, too, or whatever her real name is. We issued an APB so hopefully we’ll get the girl back unharmed so we can interview her about what happened.”

“What about Bigsky and Cruz?”

“I’ll turn over the evidence from the cabin to the El Royo police. Maybe you guys can link him to those murders, but there’s not much to go on.” She put on her Stetson, pushing it down to shade her face. “We’re done here. Can I give you a lift to your Jeep?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stick around for a bit. Might be something else to find.”

“Might be.” She studied him from beneath her hat brim. “If you ask me, the other one’s not coming back. Probably saw all the commotion and high-tailed it out of here. But we’ll run the prints ASAP. Something will turn up.”

“I know.” But he didn’t move.

“What about the victim? She’s hit a wall. A patrol officer can drop her off at home if you want to stick around.” She nodded at the cabin. Inside Dinah was dozing on the sofa.

He couldn’t bear to let Dinah out of his sight. “She’ll be fine. I won’t stay long.”

“Sure thing.”

He watched the sheriff’s car recede into the distance, then went to check on Dinah. She was awake, watching Daisy paw at something under the sofa.

He stooped down. “What is it, girl?”

Daisy raised her head and barked at him. Then she began to scratch at the floor, half-growling, half-whimpering as her front legs worked to get at something.

“Thought a critter might be under there,” said Dinah, pulling up her feet.

“Stay there.” He pushed the sofa back.

Just then, Daisy pulled her head up. A dirty sock hung from her mouth.

Dinah sunk back into the cushions with a sigh. The bruise around her left eye had turned blue and purple while she slept, and her lashes were pale against the skin.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. I just need some real sleep and a little fresh air.” She rose and headed toward the door.

Her clothes were rumpled, and her hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders. Her hips swayed softly, invitingly. He had to touch her. “Stay away from the door,” he said, and pulled her away. She fell against him, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gathered her in close.

“Oomph.”

He loosened his grip but didn’t release her. “What’s wrong?”

“Got tackled by a line backer last night.”

He pushed back from her. His eyes raked her green T-shirt. “Did I break a rib?”

“I’m still in one piece. Just a little achy is all.” She leaned into him and closed her eyes. A fierce sense of protectiveness fired inside him. “That gun you pulled. It’s not your police issue revolver, is it.”

“No.” He wanted to say more, but he couldn’t.

But she read minds. He’d forgotten. “You should get rid of it. It’s hurting you.”

He deserved to hurt. He’d earned this particular badge of dishonor.

“I’d sure be pleased if you’d go see a shrink about that gun-phobia of yours.” He stiffened. Her arms squeezed his waist, and her thighs brushed against his legs. “Just saying.”

Maybe she was right—hell, she
was
right—but he didn’t want to talk about it. “Let’s take one more sweep of the cabin. Maybe the sheriff missed something that could I.D. the kid. Then I’ll go back and get the Jeep.”

Dinah cocked her head and studied him the way the sheriff had. “You think the kid might come back?”

“The Jeep’s out of sight. If the place is quiet, he might get curious.”

Her eyes reminded him of spring grass. He tilted his head and kissed her softly. Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he traced her mouth with his tongue and teased at her teeth until she slipped her arms from his waist and ran them gently up his belly and over his chest. They cupped his neck, and her thumbs teased his hair.

A bottomless hunger for this woman filled him. He invaded her sweet mouth, and she met him boldly, dancing with his tongue, biting at his lips while her hands brushed through his hair. The desire he thought had died with Sam sprang to life. He wanted again. Wanted Dinah. His palms pushed her hips against his until his erection pressed into her soft belly. She didn’t pull away.

Emboldened, he slipped his hands under her shirt and slid up her warm, silky back, imagining another silky place he wanted to touch. She nipped at his lips and tightened her arms on his neck, and when his fingers found the clasp of her bra, her upper body yielded to him, arching beneath his touch.

He cupped her breasts.
Dios mio.
They fit in his palms perfectly. An incredible thirst to take them in his mouth overwhelmed him.

With a deep sigh, Dinah broke away from him and planted a kiss on his jaw. “I can’t do this.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get carried away.” Reluctantly, he released her.

She stared past him, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s Hollyn. Every time I think about what she must be going through, it makes me sick.”

Hollyn. Her story that got Dinah out into the middle of nowhere stunk. Plus, she seemed to pop up whenever he and Dinah began talking about the murders and the old robbery. But Dinah was too close to the girl to see it. His face must have betrayed his thoughts.

“And I’d hate to have the other kidnapper bust in on us,” Dinah said softly.

True. To take his mind off his half-erection, he studied the cabin. His eyes trailed over the tossed furniture, the artifacts on the wall, the emptied gun safe, the bare kitchen cabinets. He pulled a fistful of rubber gloves from his windbreaker.

“You take the bedroom. I’ll poke around out here. See if you can find anything that might tell us who the kid is. Then we’ll go.”

“Got it.” She pulled on the gloves he handed her and disappeared into the bedroom.

Rafe pulled out every kitchen drawer, checked under furniture, and shined a flashlight up the chimney. He lifted the Navaho rugs and banged on the floor looking for hollow spots, stirring up Daisy in the process. When she settled down, he riffled magazines and checked behind wall hangings. But the cabin was clean…and he was dead beat.

He called to Dinah. “Let’s go. There’s nothing here, and the kid’s not coming back.” Silence. What the hell? Had Di fallen asleep on him? “Are you sleeping?” No response.

He poked his head in the bedroom door. Dinah was kneeling on the floor before an open dresser drawer. Tears trailed down her cheeks. His insides went cold.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

She didn’t seem to hear him.

He knelt down beside her. “Di? Honey? What is it?”

Dinah lifted her hands. A pair of eyeglasses rested on them. The frames were blue and the lenses thick.

“These are my momma’s. She couldn’t see past the nose on her face without them.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“Ma’am, I’m leaving. Have a good evening.”

Dinah turned away from her bedroom window. The policewoman who’d been assigned to guard her stood in the door.

“Is the next watch here?” She never thought she’d be grateful for cops after her father’s conviction. But she was. Not only because the deaths and kidnapping had turned her life into a fricking circus, but because the danger wasn’t going away. Not until the money turned up.

“On the way.”

“Thanks.” Dinah’s gaze moved back to the street below but barely registered the policewoman climbing into her car. It was the cars lined up across the street she studied. Journalists armed with oversized cameras and zoom lenses waiting for her to emerge so they could shout questions at her and snap their blinding flashes in her eyes. The story was just too delicious—
Daughter of ex-cop at center of unsolved robbery becomes kidnap victim.
The Today Show had called her cell a dozen times. Good Morning America had called, too, and every Austin TV station.

A light flashed from one of the cars. Dinah backed away from the window and sat on her bed. She picked up Daddy’s letter again. It was rumpled and torn at the edges. She’d found it balled-up, laying among scattered coins and the torn money envelope, which the kidnapper had tossed away in his eagerness to have at his last eight dollars. A shiver passed through her. He’d been in her room, touched her bed and her clothes. But its loss didn’t hurt as much as finding the desecrated letter. She tried to concentrate on the clues, but his last words kept drawing her attention.
I love you truly
.

The door opened downstairs. Daisy raised her head and straightened her ears. Then she laid her snout on her paws again and fell back to sleep.

Familiar booted feet climbed the steps, their cadence making her mouth go dry. Rafe poked his head around the corner. Circles of sleeplessness darkened the skin beneath his eyes, and his eyelids drooped. His inky hair was damp and tangled. He must have forgotten to comb it after his shower, or maybe he’d been too tired. He should look like hell—she did—but he looked rumpled and sexy and thoroughly kissable instead.

He smiled at her, his dimples shadowy beneath his unshaved cheeks. A traitorous corner of her heart fluttered. She wanted to fold herself into the safety of his strong arms.
Down, girl.
She wanted him, but she’d only hurt him. She deserved to date jerks since that was exactly what she was. There was no future for her with him, and he’d want one if she let him get too close.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“Same as you, I think.”

He grinned. “Do I look that bad?” Then his expression sobered. “Didn’t mean you aren’t always pretty.”

“It’s okay.” She gazed into the mirror over her dresser. A wan lady with a pinched face and bloodshot eyes stared back. “Have you heard anything?”

He sighed, then sat next to her. His hand—warm and rough, but comforting—lifted the hand holding the letter up. “Did the kidnapper do that to your daddy’s letter?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s his last words.”

“I know.”

“I keep reading it and hoping whatever he was trying to tell me will sink in. I feel like it’s all there, but I just can’t connect the dots.”

He took the paper from her and set it on the bedside table. “Sometimes when I think too much about a thing, I hit a wall. Let it go, Di. It will come when it’s ready.”

He was right, but… “I just hope I haven’t gotten myself killed before it happens.”

He slid an arm around her and pulled her close. She leaned into him, allowing herself this small indulgence. “We got a confirmation on the glasses. Her optometrist identified them. He had the records from eight years ago, and the frames and prescription matched your momma’s.”

“What does that mean?”

His shoulder moved against her back. A shrug. “Can you tell me what happened when your mother left? Did she leave a note or say anything? Did she take a car? A suitcase? Did she clean out the family bank account?”

Dinah bought a bit of time while she tucked her emotions away. “It’s been awhile now.”
Hah.
As if she’d ever forget the day her momma ran away.

His lips moved in her hair. “Take your time. I pulled the night watch.”

That sounded dangerous. Why couldn’t they have sent Swope? But she was grateful he’d come.

She studied the tree branch outside her window as it darkened in the twilight. What sort of contrary woman got the hots for the one man she didn’t deserve.
Her sort.

She stood and began to pace. “Let’s see. My momma.” His eyes followed her as she zigzagged between bed and dresser, but she didn’t dare look at him. She’d see tenderness, and it might make her do something crazy like jump his bones or cry.

“My momma was madder than a hill of fire ants when Daddy got charged with the robbery and the rest of them turned on him. She went over to Mr. Gerry’s house and hollered at him, but Mr. Gerry told her it was all my daddy’s own fault because he had the money. Well, when Momma heard that, she darn near went nuts. She stomped down to the El Royo jailhouse and demanded the truth from my daddy. That’s what she told me, anyhow.”

“Did your father admit he had the money?”

“He didn’t say anything, except she should forget about him for her own protection. That just made her madder. She hadn’t worked since she had me unless you count the tarot card readings, so we were in deep shit from a financial point of view, and it felt to her—and to me—like Daddy had abandoned us. They repossessed the car and cut off our credit cards, and if this old house hadn’t been in the Pittman family for forever, they probably would have thrown us out and taken that, too.”

“So she left,” said Rafe.

“No. That’s the odd thing. She really loved Daddy. She went to the trial every day and sat behind him in court, and when she came home, she’d be so upset because everyone was against him.”

“Didn’t she disappear right after the verdict was read?”

“The jury had been out for a week already, so we knew it was coming, and we thought we were ready. But a thing like that, losing Daddy that way.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It hit us hard. I guess we’d both been holding out hope and telling each other different.” She grimaced. “Can’t always control how you feel about things.”

“I know I keep saying it, but I’m sorry, Dinah. It must have been a dark time for you.”

“Some folks have been through worse.” She hated his sympathy.

He must have caught her meaning. He cleared his throat. “Go on. What happened after the verdict was read?”

“They hauled him off in shackles to await sentencing. That night, a cop who was still friends with us called Momma and said Daddy was in a bad way.”

“Bad way?”

“Depressed.” Dinah stopped pacing. “He said my daddy wanted to see Momma. So she went off to give him comfort, but she ended up begging him to give the money back so maybe they’d give him a lighter sentence. But he said it wouldn’t matter. They didn’t give breaks on armed robbery. Mr. Lonnie testified my daddy forced him at gunpoint. It was an evil lie. Doubled my daddy’s sentence.”


Hijo de puta
.” Son of a bitch.

“When Momma got back, she was a wreck, of course. She told me she fell down on her knees in front of him and cried. She just kept blubbering, ‘Give the money back anyway.’ I guess that little ray of hope was still inside her, and she was desperate. But my daddy wouldn’t listen. He had a temper, and it was burning from the trial and all the people that didn’t believe he’d been framed by Mr. Gerry, Mr. Teke, and Mr. Lonnie. He told her if he gave the money back right away, the outside world would leave him to rot. If they knew he still had their money, at least he would matter a little. It was his bargaining chip when he got inside. Sounds crazy, but I think he was scared to death about what might happen to an ex-cop in prison.”

“The next morning Momma made me a peanut butter sandwich and waved me off to school. That’s the last time I saw her.”

“Seems sudden. Why did you think she ran off?”

“She left a note saying she was at the end of her rope and couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Did she pack a suitcase? What about money?”

Dinah considered this. “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know if she took any clothes. I couldn’t bring myself to go into Momma and Daddy’s bedroom after that day. Everything in there is pretty much the same as Momma left it. Well, except Hollyn’s been cleaning up in there. That girl was a godsend. I hope she’s okay.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “What about money?”

“There wasn’t any. I always figured she’d borrowed money from one of her clients or Daddy’s cop friend and bought a bus ticket to somewhere new.”

“Wouldn’t mind seeing that note,” Rafe said.

She’d kept the note tucked under her pillow until her father was sentenced and she went away to Houston. Convincing herself she needed to make a clean break with the past, she left the note behind. But shedding her El Royo life proved impossible. It clung to her like skunk scent, noxious and offensive, ruining her dreams and destroying her relationships. Well, shit always stinks, and lord knows, she’d stomped through a pile of it. All the Pittmans had.

“Let’s see. The note. It’s probably still here.”
Probably.
Dinah pulled open a dresser drawer and lifted the liner paper. The note, folded and unfolded until the creases had nearly worn through was exactly where she’d shoved it eight years ago.

She held it out to Rafe. “See for yourself.”

He didn’t take it. Instead his eyes raked over her face. Her cheeks grew warm.

“What?” She croaked out the question.

“Come sit down.”

“Rafe.”

“You’re swaying, Di.”

She sat beside him, his thigh burning against hers, the rough denim of his pants grazing her bare leg below the cuff of her shorts. She couldn’t look at him.

He pried the tightly folded square of paper from her fingers. “
Pobrecita
,” he said softly. Poor baby. He opened the note. The square of paper, torn from a mini-notebook, had begun to mildew at the corners, and the blue lines had faded. But time had not erased Momma’s last words.

Di,

I can’t took it no more. I am staring over
with
in
S
another place.

Momma

It wasn’t as ugly or as angry as she remembered it. When she’d first read the note, the writing seemed to slash across the paper like an accusation. But thinking back on that time, maybe the ugliness and anger were inside her.

“Does this seem like her? ‘I can’t took it’? ‘Staring over’?” asked Rafe.

“It’s her writing. At the time everything was falling apart. Half the people in town avoided us like we were dying from the plague. It made sense she would want to run away, so I wasn’t surprised to find the note.”

“Come on, Di. ‘You weren’t surprised’? That was how you felt? Your momma had just walked out on you at the worst time of your life.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, I was hurt she was running away from me, too. I would have gone with her. So I guess I figured she didn’t want me around anymore.” She’d barely been able to admit this to herself. Ever. But it didn’t hurt as much to share it with Rafe.

“I told myself Momma had given up and skulked off like a spanked dog. So I was determined to be better than her and thumb my nose at the town in grand style. That’s when I went to the quarry and did my naked swan dive.” She grimaced. “I gave the town a real reason to hate on me.”

“No one hates on you. Leastways no one who knows you.”

He was being so sweet, it made her heart ache. “Let me see the note,” she said.

Rafe dropped the note in her hand.

The loops of ink belong to Momma. Each letter perfectly executed with dots placed exactly over
I
s and
T
s crossed with a straight, balanced line.

“I never really thought about the mistakes. I figured she was in a hurry, but it wasn’t like her. She taught school before she met my daddy, so penmanship and spelling were like a crusade for her.”

Rafe shifted uncomfortably.

“Why, Rafe?”

“I wanted to get some background on your momma.”

“That’s not an answer.” But it was an answer. It hit her as she spoke. Her momma was gone. Same as Daddy.

“We found some other things in the cabin.” He pulled his phone from his shirt pocket. “A pair of woman’s sandals for one.” He held out the phone so she could see a photo of cork-soled sandals with a blue leather strap across the toes. “Do these look familiar?”

She spared a quick glance at them before fixing her gaze firmly on her lap. “Blue is my momma’s favorite color, but I don’t know if those are hers. Lots of people wore this style back then.” Including Momma.

“Okay. How about this?” He shifted uncomfortably as he fiddled to bring the next photo up on his phone.

Find me, Di. I’ve been waiting so long to come home.
Her momma’s ghostly voice echoed in her head, and Dinah closed her eyes.


Pobrecita
.” His voice grazed over her skin like a caress. “We can do this later.”

She folded her arms across her body. “Now is fine.”

The yellowed sweatshirt in the photo was as familiar to her as the stars glowing on her ceiling. Her mother’s sorority sweatshirt. It had been spread out on the blood red Navaho rug in the cabin. Across the front were three triangles and underneath, the words “Tri Delt.” Blood had spattered across one shoulder and sleeve.

Dinah pressed her hands to her mouth to push back the scream rising in her throat.

Rafe touched her arm. “We have a crew ready to start digging tomorrow. I’m sorry, Di.”

She had to get out of this house, this town, this
state
. Away from the death and the ugliness. Away from Rafe and his strength, his body and those damn dimples.

She sprang up.

“Di. Wait.” Rafe grabbed her hand, his palm gentle against her sore wrist.

Why did she have to want him?
“Stop touching me! Leave me alone.” She flew down the staircase, the wood cool beneath her bare feet, banging her elbow on the newel post as she flung herself across the tiny hall and burst through the front door.

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