without you, I’d be in this all on my own.” Pausing, she tucked her full bottom lip between her teeth. “I…I hate to say this. But I just don’t think my dad has much faith in me. I think…I really think he doubts my ability to represent him.”
His brow puckered. “That’s silly, Libby.”
Hurt shimmied across her expression and Rafe immediately was sorry for his choice of words.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
Libby hesitated, and he got the sense that she was debating what or how much to tell him.
Finally, she said, “He didn’t want me to come to Prosperino. He used the excuse that this case was sure to get messy and he didn’t want my professional name and reputation connected to it. But I just have a feeling…”
Apprehension bathed her beautiful face.
“I just think he doesn’t have confidence in me.”
The urge to go to her was strong, almost stronger than his will to do what was right.
She needed reassurance. She needed support, comfort, encouragement.
He desperately wanted to give her all those things. The very essence of him called out for him to act.
But doing so would lead him down a road he didn’t want to travel. He’d be wronging her and his own convictions. So, instead, he forced his feet to remain riveted in place and he let a smile soften his features.
“That really is silly,” he repeated, this time knowing that his expression kept the words from being hurtful. “Your father is up to his neck in hot water. If he thought you couldn’t pull him out before he drowned, he’s smart enough to speak up about it. I believe that.” Then he added, “You can believe that, too.”
Her gaze cleared, and his heart lightened, his blood simmered in his veins.
Great Father above, he was going to need help ignoring the desire he felt for this woman. Lots of help.
His assurances had been gruff at best. But he was relieved that they had been enough to bolster her. At least for the moment.
The night air was nippy as he made his way to his truck. But rather than curse the chill, he thanked fate for the opportunity to cool the need pulsing through him and wake his sleepy senses. He forced the craving he felt for Libby from his mind, from his body, and focused on the important duty awaiting him. Protecting David’s daughter.
She had no idea she might be in danger. And if the truth were known, he had little more than gut instinct telling him that she could be the target of someone’s nefarious intentions. However, a winter fog was rolling in, misty tendrils creeping along the ground, engulfing bushes, trees, cars. Perfect cover for someone who wanted to remain unseen. He’d have to remain vigilant tonight.
He scrubbed at his face. Lethargy and fatigue wouldn’t be his only battles tonight. Images of Libby danced just behind his eyelids. The passionate longing that plagued him would be a formidable foe as well.
As he had every other night this week, he drove his truck down the block, made a U turn, pulled to the curb, cut the engine…and watched.
Usually, Rafe avoided Ruby’s Café during peak business hours, but if he didn’t get some caffeine into his system this morning he was surely going to crash. Mokee-kittuun folklore was full of brave warriors who could remain alert for days at a stretch without sleep or sustenance. But he suspected those stories were more myth than reality.
“Coffee to go, please,” he told the waitress behind the counter.
She nodded and went to fill his order.
Ruby’s hadn’t changed in all the years that he could remember. The art galleries and antique shops lining Prosperino’s streets brought plenty of tourists into town, but if you wanted to mingle with the locals, Ruby’s was the place to be.
Not that Rafe was known for going out of his way to mingle. However, that was going to have to change if he wanted to learn anything that might help David.
He rested his forearms on the wooden countertop, waiting for his coffee, when he heard his name called from the back of the room. Sweeping his gaze in that direction, he saw Prosperino’s mayor, Michael Longstreet, waving for Rafe to join him.
“Rafe!” the gregarious mayor greeted him, pumping his proffered hand. “How are you?”
“Fine, Michael. Just fine. How about yourself?”
“I’m doing great. Just great.” The man’s whole expression beamed with happiness.
Although Rafe had only officially met the mayor a few weeks earlier, it was common knowledge that Michael had just gotten married last month. The man had a bit of a playboy reputation in town, and everyone had been surprised when he’d tied the knot.
Politeness had Rafe asking, “How’s your wife?”
“Suzanne is great, too,” Michael continued. Then he sobered. “She works with the teens at Emily’s House out at Hopechest.”
The drinking water at the youth ranch had been the first place the DMBE had shown up. The staff and children had been evacuated to Joe Colton’s estate, Hacienda de Alegria. Blake Fallon, Rafe’s best friend, ran Hopechest Ranch. After just having to deal with the fact that his father tried to murder Joe Colton, Blake hadn’t needed more to trouble him.
Even though he and Blake had been friends since childhood, Rafe hadn’t yet told him about his suspicions regarding the polluting of the aquifer. The information he had could be misconstrued to make David look even more guilty than he already did. Rafe hoped that, at the end of this mess, all would be revealed and the real guilty party would be apprehended.
“I heard you’re working for Libby Corbett,” Mayor Longstreet said. “Helping to clear David’s name.”
“That’s right.”
Suddenly Rafe felt on edge, which was odd. He guessed it was the negative press David was receiving in the local papers and the national news that had him antsy about the townspeople’s reaction to him helping the Corbett family.
“Well, I think you ought to know—” the man’s voice lowered “—there’s a rumor racing through the courthouse. The prosecutor is thinking of charging David with the death of that EPA employee. The one who was killed in December. His name was Charlie O’Connell.”
Rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s ridiculous! I read in the papers weeks ago that O’Connell’s death was ruled an accident.”
Michael shrugged, his eyebrows rising. “That was before the dumping of this DMBE was thought to be deliberate. And there were scratches on the car O’Connell was driving. Paint samples were taken.”
“David Corbett had nothing to do with the DMBE or O’Connell’s death.” Rafe tried to keep his tone down, but the anger running through him made that difficult. “The man is no murderer!”
The mayor placed a quelling hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “I know that, Rafe. I do. And that’s exactly why I’m telling you about the rumor.
