to hurt you,” she said as calmly as she could when what she wanted to do was run screaming into the night. This was so not fair. “When I had a crush on you, I tried to keep you from seeing your girlfriend, but I never actually hurt anyone.”
“You threw yourself in front of my car and begged me to run over you.”
Heat exploded in her cheeks. Why couldn’t everyone just leave the past where it belonged? Why did every humiliating detail of her life have to be dissected in public?
“That was about my pain, not doing injury to you.” She drew in a deep breath. Peaceful thoughts, she reminded herself. And a couple of antacids. That’s all she needed. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’m sorry I let my sister talk me into coming here. I knew it was a bad idea. It won’t happen again. Whatever her problems with Zeke, I’m not getting involved. Ever.”
His gaze narrowed. “What problems with Zeke?”
“That’s personal.”
“Look, lady, the second you started taking pictures in my windows, it became my business.”
He had a point. Not a very big one, but still... “Zeke has been acting funny—staying out late, not talking about things. He says he’s busy with your campaign all the time but Alexis thinks he’s having an affair.”
Riley swore and grabbed her arm again. “All right. Come on.”
“Let go of me.”
He didn’t and he started walking, dragging her along with him.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Inside. We have to talk. If my campaign manager is cheating on his wife, I want to know about it.”
“I don’t think he is. He just doesn’t seem the type. What time did your meeting with him end tonight?”
Riley stopped on the front porch. Light from the big fixture by the front door illuminated his perfect features—dark eyes, high cheekbones and the kind of mouth that made normally reasonable women want to run out and do something really, really sinful. He still wore an earring, but a diamond stud had replaced the gold hoop she remembered so well.
“We didn’t have a meeting,” he said flatly. “I haven’t seen Zeke in three days.”
The churning got worse. Gracie pulled free of Riley’s grip and rubbed her stomach. “That can’t be good.”
“My thoughts exactly. So come inside. I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything you know about Zeke and his affair.”
“For one thing, I don’t know if he’s even having one. Alexis could be overreacting.”
“Does she usually?” he asked as he held open the front door and motioned for her to step inside.
“I don’t think so. Maybe. I live in L.A. I don’t actually spend all that much time with her.”
She walked into the house and came to a complete stop in the foyer. The place was huge. Old, but beautiful with high ceilings, carved moldings and enough furniture, knickknacks and artwork to monopolize an entire month of Antiques Roadshow.
“Wow. This is pretty cool,” she said as she turned in a slow circle. “I think my entire house would fit in the foyer.”
“Yeah, it’s big. The library’s in here.”
Once again he grabbed her arm and dragged her along. She caught a glimpse of a formal dining room and a parlor or living room before he pulled her into the library. He released her and walked to a liquor tray set up by the window. After setting the gun on the desk, he poured what looked like Scotch into two glasses. She set down her Polaroid.
“Let me say for the record—ouch,” she said as she rubbed her arm again. “I don’t remember you manhandling women before.”
He glared at her, then handed her a drink. “I don’t trust you.”
“It was fourteen years ago, Riley. You really need to let go of the past.”
“I was happy to until you showed up again. You tortured me for two years. They wrote about it in the newspaper. The ‘Gracie Chronicles.’”
Embarrassment made her want to squirm. “Yes, well, that part wasn’t my fault. Can we talk about something more relevant? Like Zeke.”
“Why does Alexis think he’s having an affair?”
Gracie shrugged. “He’s coming home late and not saying where he’s been.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“About six weeks. At first she figured he really was working on the campaign, but the nights got later and later and when he wouldn’t talk about what was going on....” She stopped and glanced at him. “Why are you running for mayor? You don’t strike me as the political type.”
Riley ignored the question and pointed to her drink. “Do you want something different?”
Gracie sniffed the glass, then put it on the desk. “No, it’s great. It’s just stress makes my stomach unhappy.” She pulled a roll of what looked like antacids from her pocket and popped a couple in her mouth. “Terrific room.”
Riley followed her gaze as she glanced at the twelve-foot-high bookcases filled to overflowing. He didn’t bother telling her that the library was one of the few places he felt comfortable in the oversized house.
“Tell me about Zeke,” he said.
“You tell me.” She walked to the leather sofa across from the ornate fireplace and flopped down. “He’s your campaign manager. Is he having an affair?”
“Hell if I know.” Riley paced to the desk and leaned against it. “He talks about Alexis all the time. I would say he adores her.”
“But your meetings don’t run until three in the morning.”
He smiled. “I’m running for mayor, not president.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Well, I guess I have to tell Alexis that he wasn’t here. She’s not going to like that.”
Riley didn’t much like it, either. The election was only five weeks away and he couldn’t afford a scandal. Not when he was finally making progress with the good citizens of Los Lobos.
He set down his drink and tugged at the picture still hanging from the camera. After peeling off the protective layer, he stared at the Polaroid photo.
It showed the ceiling of the library and a few shelves, but nothing else.
“You’re not very good at this,” he told Gracie.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to be. Despite what you think of me, I didn’t grow up to be a spy or a professional stalker. I bake wedding cakes for a living.”
She was annoyed and indignant, but also embarrassed. Color stained
