come.
“I need to think about it.”
Not good enough. “There’s another consideration, Maggie. Your store.”
She frowned, and he saw the concern behind it. “What about it?”
“The De Lucas have a home here in Barringer’s Pass. They probably have friends—or people who are afraid to cross them, which is just as good as far as they’re concerned. All they have to do is let it be known you’re on their blacklist, and people will stop shopping here. How much of your business is local?”
She pressed her mouth into a tight line. “Maybe half.”
“And how many of your customers from out of town are from the Hollywood crowd or the music industry?”
She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.” Her voice had lost its steely quality. “I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She muttered a few swear words under her breath, then looked up with renewed fire in her eyes. “Can I get back at him? Hit him first and distract the reporters? If they focus on him, they might leave Sophie alone.”
Damn—he was torn between cheering her fighting spirit and warning her to back off. How could he encourage someone not to stand up to an injustice, not to defend the innocent?
By remembering that some people preferred to live in the midst of chaos, and were more than happy to drag you into it with them. He’d seen it up close. His fault. It didn’t have to happen again.
Frustrated, he said, “I don’t recommend it, but I’m not sure that makes any difference to you. You know, this wasn’t supposed to be my fight. I’m just trying to keep De Luca from killing you while I figure out how to prove he killed Julie.”
Any camaraderie she might have felt toward him disappeared in a flash. She shot to her feet. “Well, excuse me for dragging you into it and involving you in my personal issues. Oh wait, that was your idea, wasn’t it, boyfriend ?”
He couldn’t argue, which made it all the more irritating. Everything about Maggie Larkin was irritating. How had he gotten this mixed up in the problems of a stranger? Maybe he needed to let her handle things on her own. She’d been right about one thing—Rafe probably wouldn’t hurt her, at least not physically. Maggie was under too much scrutiny now. And anything else De Luca did to her, like shredding her reputation, was not Cal’s concern. Julie was. It was time to remember that.
“You’re right, I chose to get involved,” he told her. He walked to the back door, then turned with one hand on the knob. “But I don’t have to stay involved. You want my advice? Here it is: Stay out of dark alleys and don’t accept rides from strangers. And if Rafe threatens to kill you, call the cops. See you around.”
He left without waiting to hear her response. From what he already knew of Maggie, he’d lay bets it was colorful. And loud.
Cal caught himself wondering about Maggie at least ten times the next day as he tracked down resort employees who might have seen the two missing girls. He wondered what Rafe would do to her. What the press would do to her. Each time, he furiously blocked the thought and turned his focus to Julie. Julie, who at twenty had been too naive to see the shallow side of Rafe De Luca that Maggie had pegged within minutes. And too stubborn to call her big brother for help when things had turned ugly and dangerous.
But blaming Julie for not calling him was a cop-out. She would have been too proud to admit she’d misjudged the handsome, famous man who’d swept her off her feet. Too embarrassed to ask the brother she barely knew for help getting away from him. Still, their mother had figured it out. Cal might have intervened in time to save Julie if his mother had known how to reach him.
But she hadn’t. He’d intentionally cut himself off from her, left without giving her so much as a phone number. But if Sherrie June Drummond Ellis Howard knew one thing it was men, and she’d recognized the evil in Rafe De Luca.
“I need to think about it.”
Not good enough. “There’s another consideration, Maggie. Your store.”
She frowned, and he saw the concern behind it. “What about it?”
“The De Lucas have a home here in Barringer’s Pass. They probably have friends—or people who are afraid to cross them, which is just as good as far as they’re concerned. All they have to do is let it be known you’re on their blacklist, and people will stop shopping here. How much of your business is local?”
She pressed her mouth into a tight line. “Maybe half.”
“And how many of your customers from out of town are from the Hollywood crowd or the music industry?”
She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.” Her voice had lost its steely quality. “I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She muttered a few swear words under her breath, then looked up with renewed fire in her eyes. “Can I get back at him? Hit him first and distract the reporters? If they focus on him, they might leave Sophie alone.”
Damn—he was torn between cheering her fighting spirit and warning her to back off. How could he encourage someone not to stand up to an injustice, not to defend the innocent?
By remembering that some people preferred to live in the midst of chaos, and were more than happy to drag you into it with them. He’d seen it up close. His fault. It didn’t have to happen again.
Frustrated, he said, “I don’t recommend it, but I’m not sure that makes any difference to you. You know, this wasn’t supposed to be my fight. I’m just trying to keep De Luca from killing you while I figure out how to prove he killed Julie.”
Any camaraderie she might have felt toward him disappeared in a flash. She shot to her feet. “Well, excuse me for dragging you into it and involving you in my personal issues. Oh wait, that was your idea, wasn’t it, boyfriend ?”
He couldn’t argue, which made it all the more irritating. Everything about Maggie Larkin was irritating. How had he gotten this mixed up in the problems of a stranger? Maybe he needed to let her handle things on her own. She’d been right about one thing—Rafe probably wouldn’t hurt her, at least not physically. Maggie was under too much scrutiny now. And anything else De Luca did to her, like shredding her reputation, was not Cal’s concern. Julie was. It was time to remember that.
“You’re right, I chose to get involved,” he told her. He walked to the back door, then turned with one hand on the knob. “But I don’t have to stay involved. You want my advice? Here it is: Stay out of dark alleys and don’t accept rides from strangers. And if Rafe threatens to kill you, call the cops. See you around.”
He left without waiting to hear her response. From what he already knew of Maggie, he’d lay bets it was colorful. And loud.
Cal caught himself wondering about Maggie at least ten times the next day as he tracked down resort employees who might have seen the two missing girls. He wondered what Rafe would do to her. What the press would do to her. Each time, he furiously blocked the thought and turned his focus to Julie. Julie, who at twenty had been too naive to see the shallow side of Rafe De Luca that Maggie had pegged within minutes. And too stubborn to call her big brother for help when things had turned ugly and dangerous.
But blaming Julie for not calling him was a cop-out. She would have been too proud to admit she’d misjudged the handsome, famous man who’d swept her off her feet. Too embarrassed to ask the brother she barely knew for help getting away from him. Still, their mother had figured it out. Cal might have intervened in time to save Julie if his mother had known how to reach him.
But she hadn’t. He’d intentionally cut himself off from her, left without giving her so much as a phone number. But if Sherrie June Drummond Ellis Howard knew one thing it was men, and she’d recognized the evil in Rafe De Luca.
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