Silver Sparks by Starr Ambrose Page B

She’d known her daughter was in over her head. And she would have turned to Cal for help if she could.
    Because she couldn’t, Julie had died.
    He had to live with that guilt. Assuming his two half sisters could depend on whatever man happened to currently be in their mother’s life had been stupid. He’d failed Julie as badly as their mother had. All he could do for her now was prove that Rafe De Luca was the monster who had killed her and dumped her body like a piece of garbage.
    That would be a lot easier if Rafe didn’t find out who he was. Claiming to be Maggie’s boyfriend might actually help—there was no reason for Rafe to connect Maggie’s local friend Cal Drummond to Julie Ellis, a brief fling in California.
    A bigger danger might be the reporters. Being in their sights would restrict his ability to monitor Rafe, and it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out that he wasn’t local. He had to be extra careful, which included not letting them follow him straight to his cabin.
    Cal cruised slowly by the slightly shabby main building of the Lost Canyon Lodge and the cabins that trailed deep into the trees on either side of it. His gaze lingered on a blue car parked by the main lodge with a man behind the wheel. The guy might be waiting while his wife paid the bill or bought a souvenir T-shirt in the tiny gift shop. Or he might be a reporter, staking out the place in hopes of finding the mystery man who’d helped Maggie escape from The Aerie bar.
    He wasn’t willing to risk it. Turning around at a gas station, he drove back to the small family restaurant across the street. He could watch the driver of the blue car and anyone else who might be loitering near the cabins for the next half hour to make sure they weren’t looking for him. He wasn’t in a hurry; Rafe probably wouldn’t be prowling for women until later tonight.
    He walked in and scoped the place out. All the tables along the windows seated four or more—they’d never let a lone diner monopolize one. A perky young girl led him to a table for two in the center. He chose the chair that faced the windows and the lodge across the street. The blue car and driver were still there. Cal ordered a piece of pie and a coffee, scarfed down the pie, then sat sipping the coffee as he watched the blue car.
    “Hey, you want this?”
    He looked up to find the lone diner at the table next to him offering a folded newspaper.
    “I’m done with it, and you looked like you needed something to do.”
    “No thanks.”
    “Suit yourself.” The guy dropped it on his table. “Can’t say I blame you. It’s nothing but speculation about that scuffle between Rafe De Luca and some local chick.”
    “I already heard about it.” Cal took another sip of coffee and returned to watching the lodge across the street. The blue car hadn’t moved.
    “It’s nothing but trash journalism.”
    Cal agreed but didn’t answer. Better to let the subject die.
    “’Course, you gotta wonder, anytime a woman hits a man,” the guy said. Apparently some people couldn’t take a hint. “Mostly, women don’t like to make a scene. Unless they’ve been drinking. No telling then. Maybe this Maggie chick was drunk.”
    He should ignore him. Or grunt agreement, reinforcing the idea that he didn’t want to talk. But the idea of another nasty rumor about Maggie floating around town ate at his conscience like acid on metal. “She wasn’t drunk,” he muttered.
    “Really? Seems unlikely—”
    “I got it firsthand from someone who was there,” Cal said, cutting him off abruptly.
    “Oh.”
    Yeah, oh. Now shut up and find something more important to think about. People needed to get a life and stop wasting time reading celebrity gossip. Or hanging around cheap tourist cabins waiting to see if he showed up. Damn reporters were going to have him looking over his shoulder until this thing died down, which didn’t look to be anytime soon.
    “Of course, there’s that whole other