someone from the mob was really tailing her and they knew what they were doing, Rafe knew she wouldn’t see them. “She could be with Tony on a lark, Kit. Look at her track record.”
“I know her track record!” Her gaze shot to his.
“Would I be here asking for your help if I thought this was a joyride?”
Ouch. “You have to admit she’s done this before.”
“This is different, Rafe. I can tell. I heard how frightened she was.”
“Of Tony?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Did anyone at the hospital hear or see a struggle? Did Liz scream?”
“No, nothing.” Worry carved deep lines beside her mouth.
“She probably went with him voluntarily, Kit.”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
He hated the torture in her soft blue eyes. “So why would she do that?”
“She believes him, I guess.”
“About Alexander?”
“And Tony’s claim that he’s turning his life around. He’s called her every night since he got out, trying to mend fences. I thought she’d stand firm this time.”
Kit said this last half under her breath, causing Rafe to narrow his gaze. She’d never said anything less than supportive about Liz before.
“He knows he made a stupid mistake and he’s trying to fix it. He was doing well in his new job.”
“If Liz went willingly, and it sounds like she did, there’s really nothing you can do.”
“I’ve got to find her.”
“She’ll come home. She always does.”
She stared at him, her eyes huge in a face gone pale as chalk. “Tony said he could disappear, invent whole new identities for both of them. He can do it, Rafe. The FBI said it was a fluke they ever traced him to that computer scam in the first place. But running isn’t the answer. Tony should confront the problem, not spend his life looking over his shoulder. Or forcing Liz to do the same.”
Anger blunted her words. “I don’t know if I should believe Tony or not, but can I afford not to? I’ve got to find Liz and help her, in case Tony is telling the truth about the mob being after him. I can’t just turn my back on her.”
She never had been able to, and Rafe knew she probably never would. Due to the death of their mother when Kit was fourteen and Liz eleven, Kit had taken on the role of mother rather than sister.
“I went to the police,” she said. “They said there was nothing they could do. But I remembered that your uncle Wayne was with the FBI and he worked organized crime.” Her gaze, pleading and somber, locked with his. “That’s why I came here.”
Besides his uncle, Rafe had other contacts in the FBI. Which was why he knew the mob was moving into Oklahoma. “Why doesn’t Tony just go to the FBI himself?”
“He doesn’t have any evidence yet.”
“Kit—”
“He told me he snatched Alexander’s computer on the way out of town, that he’s going to get the evidence off of there, but right now he doesn’t have it.”
“Tony’s parole officer can go after him. Have you contacted that person?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ll do that.” Rafe made another note. “The more people looking, the more pressure, the better chance of finding them.”
“So you’ll help me?” The hope in her voice, her face, latched on to his conscience.
He knew he should pass this case off, but he couldn’t.
She’d been his first love. That connection would always be there, always mean something.
Bottom line—Rafe had never been able to turn his back on her.
“Please say you’ll help me.” Kit’s voice rasped. “You know how to find people. I don’t. Please, Rafe.”
Her whispered plea raked up memories of another whisper.
I can’t marry you. I want a partner, not a master.
She had always equated his proposal to giving up her independence. Ten years ago, Rafe had been exactly what she didn’t need. Or want. Resentment burned through him as he ran a hand over his face. And yet… Kit needed his help. Their past shouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it. “Yes, I’ll help you.”
Chapter 2
Relief washed through her, and Kit let out the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you. Where do we start?”
Something sharp flickered in Rafe’s eyes, and she was painfully reminded of their ending, the last time they’d seen each other. Regret flared, but she squelched it. Breaking things off with him had been best for both of them. She refused, as she had for the last ten years, to second-guess that decision.
“Start by telling me where Tony might go.”
“I don’t know. His parents in Davis, maybe.” She could still feel Rafe’s touch on her shoulder, a gentle comfort, yet it branded her skin. She began to pace again, thrusting a hand through her hair.
He spared her a glance, scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. “Any place he and Liz might go together?”
“His apartment, but I already checked it out. No one was there.”
She couldn’t help staring as Rafe continued jotting notes. The lush eyelashes, the too-straight patrician nose he’d inherited from his white mother. The high cheekbones, dark slash of brows and burnished skin testified to his Choctaw father. Rafe’s blatantly male features were leather dark, lined by confidences she’d never shared, smiles she’d never seen.
While waiting for him in his office, she’d steeled herself against the old attraction, but she hadn’t been prepared for the actual sight of him. The sleek black hair trimmed military short. The sculpted lips that had once turned her bones to water. Corded neck and biceps bared by the khaki T-shirt that loosely covered his hard, rangy chest. Lean runner’s legs gloved in worn, starched denim. And scuffed tennis shoes.
“Where’s his apartment?”
She dragged her gaze from Rafe, resumed her pacing. The movement helped dispel the warmth that had started to creep into her blood.
She gave him the name and address of a complex on the north edge of Oklahoma City, only a mile from her own house. The warmth of spring clung to him, as well as a mysterious scent that belonged solely to him. Not musky, not woodsy, but something in between.
Kit’s
