Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) (6 page)

“What’s that supposed to mean?

“It means, Miss Dinah, you are just as judgmental as they are. Maybe more since you know how much it hurts.”

She hadn’t considered how Rafe might feel. He’d stuck up for her tonight despite the town’s disapproval, and so far, he was just about the only friend she had in El Royo except for Jamey and Hollyn. “I’m sorry. You’ve been a true friend, and here I am dumping all over you for something my daddy did.”

“Whatever.” He didn’t sound like he had accepted her apology.

She tried to unruffled his feathers. “So tell me why you decided to become a cop.”

“Why? So you have more ammunition to fling at me the next time you get on your high horse?”

“I’m interested. Honest.”

“Seems like you were being more honest before.”

Yesterday, that would have been true. Maybe it was the letter from the prison. At the end of his life, her daddy had thought about her, loved her, owned up to his crime, and accepted his punishment. He’d freed himself from the painful past long ago while she’d carted around her anger and resentment against Daddy and Momma for so long, some days it felt like a third arm. But the letter had loosened those feelings.

“My daddy was responsible for what he did, and he paid for it.” Was she really saying this? She was, and she meant it. “I guess it’s just been easier for me to blame cops in general than to accept my own daddy was a criminal.”

“I know things haven’t been easy for you. I shouldn’t have gone off on you.”

Dinah squirmed. His sympathy was harder to take than his anger. “I was serious. Why did you decide on the force?”

He glanced over at her, his dark eyes wary, and she met them, raising her brows at him. He shrugged.

“Nothing to it, really. I couldn’t make it in the NFL after college—my damn knee gave out three games into the season—so I took the police exam and passed. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Did you study criminal justice in college? Or were you a social studies major like the other jocks?”

He frowned. “Not every guy who plays college football is a caveman.”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to understand. What did you major in?”

“Biology.”

A faded memory nagged at the back of her mind. Esme’s voice, saying,
Miss Peppie’s been crying for two days, and Papa won’t talk to anyone. My brother told them he doesn’t want to be a vet. I think he broke Papa’s heart.

“You were supposed to go to A&M, to veterinary school, weren’t you? Dr. Ernesto helped you get in. Esme told me.”

A rueful smile curled his lips. “I hated biology and the pre-vet stuff. Being an NFL running back was a great excuse to avoid veterinary school. I thought my family would be proud. Then I got injured.”

“Being a cop was a fall back?”

“At first. I mean I’d never thought about it seriously. But I wanted to do something good like my pop, and what’s better than getting the bad guys off the street. I have no regrets.”

“Except your hand shakes every time you touch your gun.”

A wall went up. “You’re swimming in dangerous waters, Miss Dinah.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”
Change the subject!
“So did Dr. Ernesto find a vet to take over his practice when he retires?”

“Esme went to A&M instead of me.” He turned away from her. “Here we are. Almost home.” Rafe cruised up to the bungalow and parked.

Dinah grabbed the door handle. “Good night.”

“Wait.” His eyes gleamed in the dark. Her belly tightened. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Really, Rafe. It’s not even a hundred feet. I can manage.” There was no way he was getting into the house.

“You’re as skittish as a girl on her first date, Miss Dinah.” He drawled the words at her, and his dimples appeared like punctuation marks for his generous mouth.

She tore her eyes away from his face. “I meant it’s not necessary, that’s all.”

He adjusted his hat. “Just escorting a lady home like I was taught.”

“Suit yourself.” She jumped out before he could come around and open her door.

He waited at the curb and fell into step beside her. “Thank you for rescuing me from Peppie’s matchmaking schemes.”

“Thanks for asking me. Seeing Dr. Ernesto and Miss Peppie again was a true pleasure. As for the rest…” She shrugged. “It’s about what I ex—” A ghostly object by the front door glimmered. “There’s something on the porch.”

“Were you expecting a package?”

“No.”

Rafe took the steps two at a time and bent to examine the object. “What’s wrong with people?” He muttered the question under his breath.

Dinah clambered up the steps after him. As soon as she saw the Old English type she knew what it was. The Sunday edition of the
Austin American Statesman
. Beneath a small red, white, and blue banner—
Happy Fourth! Parade Information on Page 3
—tomorrow’s headline blared at her in thick black letters: “What Happened to the $250,000?” Underneath it was her father’s mug shot and a grainy photo of Dinah gazing into the black waters of the quarry.

Chapter Nine

It was Wednesday, and the stream of rubberneckers cruising past the bungalow had slowed to a drip. What did they think they were going to see anyway? A giant safe on the front lawn? A mountain of gold? A palace rising among the humble homes in her blue-collar neighborhood? She’d spent most of her time in her bedroom, studying her father’s letter, when another uninvited guest knocked.

“Go away.”

More knocking. “It’s the police, ma’am.”

The words drifted through her bedroom window in a voice that was definitely not Rafe’s. Still, it could be a ruse to get her out of the house. She shouted down the stairs. “Hollyn? Can you get that, please?”

Hollyn crept into the hallway. “It’s the police. I saw a squad car outside.”

“Well, go on then. Open the door.”

Hollyn shook her head. “Can you?” She smoothed down the thick football jersey she insisted on wearing. “I’m not dressed for visitors.”

That was a load of cow pies. Hollyn had been all over town in the jersey. Dinah had offered her some of Daddy’s old cotton shirts, but she clung tight to the thick jersey. As far as Dinah could tell, Hollyn even wore it to bed. She wondered when it got washed. But everyone had their little neuroses, and in Hollyn’s case, it was the cops…and maybe that dang jersey.

“Call through the door. Tell him I’ll be with him in a minute.”

Dinah ducked back into her room, stuck the letter into Itsy Bitsy’s neck, and twisted the head on. She inspected herself in the mirror. T-shirt and cut-offs. Not much better than Hollyn’s outfit. But she wasn’t afraid of a small-town cop.

The officer was lanky and too pale for the Texas sun. He tipped his hat and shot her a thick-lipped smile. “Can I come in and talk to you for a few minutes, ma’am?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and she took a powerful dislike to him right off. “Do you have a warrant”—She glanced at his badge and nametag—“Officer Swope?”

His smile faded. If she could have seen past his mirrored sunglasses, she suspected his eyes would be hard. Something was off about this dude.

He cleared his throat. “This is a courtesy call, ma’am. I noticed all the activity in the neighborhood, and Morales, uh, Officer Morales mentioned you were alone here so I came by to see if you were all right.”

Rafe’s name softened her mood, and she tried to make up for her rude behavior. “My sincere apologies, Officer Swope. I didn’t mean to be so sharp with you.” Begrudgingly, she threw down the welcome mat. “If you’d like to come in for a moment, we can talk inside.”

“Thank you.” He removed his Stetson and stepped into the foyer.

“Shall we sit down?” She led him into the living room. He sat on the sofa. She chose a chair. “What’s on your mind, Officer?”

“Please call me Derek.”

No way.
“I’m a little busy so if you could, uh, tell me what you want from me, I’d surely appreciate it.”

He smiled and a note of insinuation threaded his voice. “As I said, this is more of a personal call.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I wondered if you’d like to step out with me tonight. Maybe we could grab something to eat, then go back to my place, have a few beers, see what happens.”

Dinah had been waiting for some randy dude to try this since she hit town. Every guy in El Royo thought she was fair game. But she hadn’t expected a
cop
to show up at her door and try to get laid. A cop who worked with Rafe, who she’d thought was a friend.

She stood. “Get out of here before I report you to whoever the hell is running the station now.”

His lower lip pushed out into an ugly pout as he rose. His eyes hardened. “You’re hooking up with the wrong guy, darlin’. Officer Morales has a yellow stripe down his back a mile wide. Ask him about it the next time you screw him.”

She was free falling into a nightmare. For the first time since her father’s conviction, she’d actually trusted a cop. She’d considered Rafe a friend, and he was going around town bragging he’d gotten some off her. Her eyes raked Derek’s face. “Get out.”

After the cop left, her fingers itched to text a blistering message to Rafe,
that snake
. But her cell was dead since she couldn’t pay her bill. Maybe he’d slink off on his own, too ashamed to face her since she hadn’t heard from him since Saturday night.

An hour later, Dinah slid her feet into a comfortable pair of flip-flops and headed into town for groceries. Fortunately it was a beautiful morning for a walk since she was nearly out of gas. She quickened her pace as she passed a two-story brick colonial with fake columns and a manicured lawn. Gerry Sutton’s place. She did not want to run into him again. When she rounded the next corner, her footsteps fell back into an easy gait.

At the corner, the carpet of tended lawns abruptly ended at a yard surrounded by rusted fence barely able to contain the overgrown vegetation pressing against it. Poking up past the shaggy shrubs were the eaves of an unkempt bungalow. Paint peeled from the wood, and a torn screen dangled from a window covered in newspaper. Snippets of faded white house showed through the leggy bushes, and Dinah squinted through the sparse branches of an Indian Hawthorn as she passed. Dirt-phobic, meticulous Lonnie must have moved.

Out of nowhere, the body of a large animal hurled itself against the fence, rattling the links. Dinah jumped back as a greyhound leapt up, balancing its paws on the fence and barked sharply. When it saw Dinah, it began to whine.

She pressed a hand to her chest to still her pounding heart. “You startled me.”

The dog’s ears perked up, and it tilted its head. It seemed to be smiling at her.

“Aren’t you a cutie?”

The dog whined again and shook its tail eagerly.
Pet me, pet me.

Dinah was considering the risks of sticking her hand in the vicinity of a strange dog’s teeth, when a man’s voice interrupted her.

“Daisy? Daisy Mae? Where did you get to?”

She’d have recognized that voice anywhere. She heard it every fourth Friday night when she was growing up. Poker player number four, Lonnie Bigsky. The lightness fell out of her day.

“Dang animal. Barks at everything. Day and night. Can’t hardly sleep some nights.”

The bushes rustled again, and Lonnie’s upper body popped up at the fence beside the dog. Lonnie was sure a changed man. The muscular, well-groomed, former armored car driver was thin and slumped over. A greasy ponytail snaked down his back. He reached for the dog, but poked his palm on a rusty link instead. “Dang it all!” He studied his hand before rubbing it against a stained T-shirt. When he finished, he focused on Dinah. His face paled.

“What are you doing here, girl?”

She wasn’t taking crap from an underhanded sneak. “Here? On this public sidewalk?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t. I was walking by when your dog came out of nowhere and barked at me. The next thing I know, you’re accusing me of coming here on purpose.”

“You didn’t?”

“I’m busy.” She began to walk away.

“Did Teke come to see you before he died?”

Dinah’s feet stopped.

“You told him where the money was, didn’t you? That’s why they killed him.”

She was getting mighty tired of all the fingers pointing at her. She spun on him. “Are you freaking out of your mind?” That felt good. “If I knew where the money was, do you think I’d be hanging around here?”

She came close until she could see the tiny veins in his bloodshot eyes. “Who’s ‘they’, Mr. Lonnie? Someone tried to break into my house. If you know something, you tell it, or I’ll call the police.” Or maybe not. With her luck, that slime ball Swope, or worse, Rafe, would be assigned to investigate.

Lonnie grabbed the greyhound’s collar and pulled it away from the fence. “Don’t ask questions that will get you in trouble.” He disappeared into the bushes, dragging the whimpering dog behind him.

“Wait. Come back here.” Dinah hollered at the empty shrubbery, but he was gone.

“Hey, Dinah.”

Rafe’s cruiser rolled up beside her. He leaned over the passenger seat and grinned at her.

“I’m surprised you have the balls to look me in the face.” Her cheeks began to burn. She was madder at him than she’d realized.

His eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

He got out of the cruiser and approached her cautiously, a puzzled look creasing his brow.

“I’m dead serious,” he snapped, “and I would appreciate a straight answer. What are you talking about?” He folded his arms and glowered at her.

What was he all hot about? She was the injured party. “This is a small town. Talk gets around.”

“An answer, Dinah.”

“Your
colleague
came to see me on Sunday. Don’t look so surprised. Did you really think you could talk about me behind my back, and no one would pay attention?”

“Who came to see you, and what did they say?” He spat the words at her.

“Swope. He said you were bragging all over El Royo about, uh, hooking up with me.”

Rafe’s expression turned thunderous. “I may be just another weak cop to you, but I don’t talk about what’s private between me and a woman. Not that there’s much to talk about where you’re concerned.”

“How did he know we went out on Saturday?”

“You’d believe that sleazeball but not me?” He bellowed the question at her. “Half the county was at the party. Don’t you suppose anyone talked about us? Hell, I’ll bet you ten bucks it’s the hottest news in town.”

He had a point.

“Besides,” Rafe added, “after what happened to Esme, I know how it feels.”

She frowned. “What happened to Esme?”

His face closed. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s gotten hurt in the court of public opinion. That’s all I meant.” The radio in the cruiser began to squawk. “I better go.”

She studied his back as he whipped around the car. “Wait a minute.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry. I should have known you were better than that.”

He nodded at her. “Apology accepted.” But he looked hurt.

“He said some nasty things about you. The gun business…” She trailed off.

“Thanks.” He ducked into his car and sped away.

…

“Hey, Swope.”

Swope looked nervously around the station parking lot. “I gotta get going. Meeting the guys for a beer.”

“This will only take a minute.” Rafe reached out, grabbed Swope’s Hawaiian shirt, and pulled him up so he was balancing on his toes. He stared down into panicked blue eyes. “You want a piece of me?”

Swope tried to shake his head. “N-no.”

“Yeah? That’s not what I heard. Come on, let’s go.”

“Get away from me, Morales.”

Rafe yanked harder on Swope’s shirt. A button popped off. “The next time you’re in the mood to take me down, come after
me
. Leave the women out of it.” He pushed Swope away.

Swope staggered, but found his footing. He brushed at his shirt. “You ruined my new Tommy Bahama, asshole.”

It was time someone knocked a little sense into Swope, and he was just the guy for the job. Rafe’s right shoulder dropped back. His fist barreled at Swope, catching him right under the eye. Swope hit the ground.

“Now you got something serious to complain about.”

Swope glared up at Rafe. “You shouldn’t have done that, Morales.”