Against the Tide (21 page)

“And you happened to see the prayer rugs,” Zach said.

“That's right.”

“There wasn't any blood,” Ben clarified, still worried about giving him access to the room. “Nothing else that could tie them to the murder.”

“No, nothing like that.”

Olivia set her coffee mug down on the table. “Wait a minute. If these guys are Muslim, why were they drinking beer in the first place?”

“Maybe they like beer,” Zach said. “Lots of American Muslims are seriously Westernized.”

“Lee Wong is Asian-American,” Rafe said. “Talks like he's corn fed, born and raised somewhere in the Midwest. The other one, Nevin, has an accent. I couldn't place it at first. Now that I've heard him talking a little more, my guess is he's Middle Eastern. Which explains one of the prayer rugs.”

“I caught a hint of British in his speech,” Liv said. “Maybe that's why his English is so good.”

“Lots of Middle Eastern men study in England,” Zach said, stirring an extra spoonful of sugar into his cup. “Oxford or Cambridge. Maybe that's it.”

Olivia shook her head. “That doesn't sync. They told Rafe they were college roommates.”

“Maybe Wong was also educated in England,” Ben said.

“Could be,” Rafe agreed.

Sam straightened in his seat. “So they're Muslim. I still can't figure why they would lie to the police.”

“Because they heard or saw something that night,” Zach guessed. “That's all it could be.”

“Or one of them killed Scott Ferris,” Olivia said.

Silence fell around the table.

“There was no evidence of anything like that,” Ben reminded them.

“Something's going on,” Rafe said. “I don't know what it is, but it's something. I'm going to give their names to my brother, see what he can come up with.”

Sam spotted Katie and held up his coffee mug. “Your brother? He's a cop, right?”

“Not anymore. Nick's in Seattle, working as a private investigator. Maybe he can help us figure this out.”

“It could be nothing, you know,” Ben helpfully pointed out.

Olivia's gaze sliced in his direction. “It could be nothing, or, as Rafe said, it could be something.”

Katie arrived at that moment to top off Sam's cup, then refill the others. Sam winked at her. Her pretty mouth flattened out and Rafe bit back a smile. Looked like she had the kid's number.

Olivia picked up the thread of the conversation where they had left off. “These guys are the only lead we've come up with so far. We need to follow it, see where it goes.”

“I agree,” Sam said.

“Me too,” said Zach.

“Ben?” Rafe asked.

The smaller man blew out a breath. “I've known Chip Reed since he was a kid. He can be a jerk, but I don't think he'd murder anyone. I'm in.”

“All right, that's it, then. Zach, you and I go in after dark and change out the GPS.” He turned to the others. “If the device gives us something, or anything else turns up, I'll call, set up another meet. In the meantime, we need to keep this quiet. The police find out we're running surveillance on these guys, we'll be the ones in jail.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I'd better get back to work.” Olivia slid out of the booth.

“Anyone hungry?” Rafe asked. “I could really use a Pelican burger. I'm buying.”

“I'm in.” Zach's grin dug a dimple into his cheek. Zach Carver was pretty-boy handsome, though he didn't seem to notice.

“I could eat the ass-end out of a bear,” Sam said, and Ben nodded his agreement.

“I'll get some menus.” Olivia started toward the counter, but Katie arrived just then, menus in hand, tuning in to the customers' needs the way she always did. She passed around the plastic-coated tri-folds with the flying pelican in a blue-and-white circle on the front, the café logo.

Olivia had too much on her mind to eat, but, as if he could read her mind, Rafe cast her a warning glance.

“You need to eat something, too,” he said with a look that reminded her of the night he had carted her out of the restaurant over his shoulder. A memory arose of the hot sex they'd had, and heat rushed into her cheeks and places lower down.

Embarrassed at her thoughts, she glanced away. She didn't look at Rafe. He was still angry, though he was managing not to show it, at least not to the others. A quick scan told her Nell had things under control, and since she was trying to soothe his ruffled feathers, she sat back down in the booth.

It only took a few minutes for Katie to get their orders. Mostly Pelican burgers and fries. Everyone in town knew the menu by heart. Liv ordered a small chef's salad with bleu cheese dressing.

“I'll get these started and be back with more coffee,” Katie said. Hurrying over to the kitchen, she hooked the orders up on the wheel behind the counter, grabbed the coffeepot, and returned.

As she refilled the heavy china mugs for the umpteenth time, she turned to Liv. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. A funny thing happened while you were out running. One of our customers came in—you remember Sarah Andrews? Her husband owns the gas station? Bob threw a birthday party for Sarah last week, took over the banquet room.”

“I remember.”

“Well, some of the guests took pictures and posted them up on their Facebook pages. I guess one of them has a friend somewhere in upstate New York and they tweet and Pinterest, keep up with each other on Facebook.”

A tremor of unease slid through her. “So?”

“So, apparently you were in the background of one of the photos, and a friend-of-a-friend saw it. She thought you were an old college classmate, some woman named Fiona Caldwell. I guess she and this Fiona went to Columbia University together, BFFs and all that.”

Olivia could feel the blood draining out of her face. Her ears started ringing so loudly she could barely make out the sound of Katie's voice.
Fiona Caldwell.
Just silently repeating the name made her stomach roll.

“I can't remember the woman's name,” Katie rambled on, “but she wanted Sarah to say hello to you, ask you to friend her on Facebook.” Katie laughed. “I guess Sarah told her she had the wrong person, but I thought it was interesting how far stuff travels on the Internet these days.”

Olivia swallowed, forced out a laugh that sounded brittle and hoarse. “Yes, it is. Good story, though. I'm sure Sarah and I will get a chuckle out of it the next time she comes in.”

Katie turned to check the kitchen service window. “Looks like your orders are up. I'll be right back.” As Katie sailed away, Olivia glanced over at Rafe. His features had turned even darker than they were before and there wasn't a trace of gold in those hard, brown eyes.

Dear God, she felt like running away. Wanted to just slide out of the booth and start walking, keep going wherever her legs happened to take her. Instead she pasted on a smile and was grateful when Katie arrived with an armload of platters heaped with burgers and fries.

The men dug in, even Rafe. Liv forced herself to fork up a few bites of lettuce, but they stuck in her throat. Her mind shot back to her outing with Khan that afternoon. What if it hadn't been just paranoia? What if they'd found her again?

Her stomach knotted so hard the bile rose in her throat. For an instant she thought she might gag. No way could she force down another bite of salad. She had to get out of there, no matter what Rafe thought.

She stood up, grabbed her salad plate. “Sorry, guys, I just remembered something I've got to do. I'll take this with me. See you all later.” She didn't look at Rafe, just turned and started walking toward the kitchen. She dumped the salad, left the plate, and headed upstairs to her apartment.

She had to think this through, had to figure things out.

As she stepped through the door, she took a deep breath. She had to calm down, had to get herself under control. Just because her once-best-friend, Gloria Rinehart, thought she'd recognized her in a tiny photo on the Internet—which Sarah had already denied—there was no reason to think the people looking for her had found her.

During her run today, her uneasiness was likely nothing but her imagination. She wasn't ready to leave Valdez. No way was she running away unless she had to. There was too much at stake.

She started to relax. The only person who knew anything at all about her was Rafe. She could handle Rafe Brodie. She was a woman and he wanted her. That gave her an advantage. When his knock came at the door a few minutes later, as she had figured it would, she was ready.

Olivia took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

“Hello, Fiona,” Rafe said.

The name sliced right through her. Rafe was no fool. She had known immediately that he'd picked up on her reaction to the name. Still, aside from his determination to know more about her and the magazine ad he had found, he had no way of knowing she was actually Fiona Caldwell.

She laughed. “You think that's my name? Why, because some woman saw a photo on Facebook and thought she recognized an old friend in the background?”

Those dark eyes drilled her. “It upset you. I could see it in your face.”

She shrugged. “This whole thing with Scotty upsets me. I just got to thinking about it, that's all. I needed some time to myself.”

His hard look didn't soften. “I know you aren't Olivia Chandler. You aren't from Medfield, and I know you didn't go to the University of Massachusetts.”

Her stomach balled into a knot. “What are you talking about?”

“You heard what I said downstairs. My brother's a detective. He ran a check on you. You aren't who you say you are.”

She fought not to tremble. How could his brother possibly have found that out? She'd paid a fortune to establish a new identity. Surely, Nick Brodie couldn't figure out it was a fake. Or could he?

She thought of everything she had to lose and pulled herself together, slid into the part of seductress she had prepared herself to play.

“Does it really matter, Rafe?” She dragged the clip out of her hair and tossed her head, letting the heavy strands fall loose around her shoulders. She slid her arms around his neck. “We all have secrets. Whatever I was, whoever I was, I'm not that person anymore. I have a new life here and that's all that matters.” She went up on her toes and softly kissed his mouth. “If you care for me at all, you'll accept the person I am now.”

She pressed herself full-length against him, felt the coiled tension in his hard-muscled frame. Leaning closer, she kissed him again, a slow melding of lips that got not the least response. She kissed the corners of his mouth, set her lips over his again. Rafe shackled her wrists, dragged them from around his neck, and set her away from him.

“If you're trying to seduce me, I'm not in the mood. I want to know what the hell is going on.”

Panic threatened. Her heart was hammering, her throat so dry she could barely speak. She reminded herself how important this was, how much she had to lose.

Snuggling back against him, she kissed the side of his neck. “I'm asking you to let this go. I'm asking you to take me the way I am. I don't think that's too much to expect.” She nipped his ear, kissed him, nipped his bottom lip, then kissed him again, urged his mouth open and slid her tongue over his.

She knew he was aroused. She could feel his erection pressing against the front of his jeans.

“We do this now,” he warned, “it's just sex, Liv. And the way I feel right this minute, it'll be a damned hard taking.”

Her stomach clenched. His words shouldn't have turned her on, but they did. “I don't care. I want you.” To prove it, she curled her fingers into the front of his denim work shirt, leaned up and kissed him deeply.

Whatever reserve had been holding Rafe back tore free. His tongue was in her mouth and hers was in his. He caught the hem of her sweater, tugged it off over her head and tossed it away. He palmed her breasts, scraped his thumbs over her nipples, deepened the kiss. Heat rolled through her and a greedy hunger stronger than anything before.

Rafe bent his head to her breast and suckled her hard, rolled his tongue around the tip. She slid her hands into his hair to hold him in place, and his teeth clamped down, sending a coil of heat burning through her.

A moan escaped. She was wet and scorching hot. What had started as a desperate game had escalated into something more, something darkly fierce and erotic.

Kissing her all the while, he walked her backward into the living room. As she came up against the arm of the sofa, she felt his hand at her waist. He popped the snap on her stretchy jeans and dragged them down over her hips. One of his big hands found her sex and he began to stroke her. Shivery need raced over her skin and an ache began to throb between her legs.

When Rafe buzzed his zipper down and freed himself, she was ready. More than ready. She was always ready for Rafe.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue in her mouth, kissed the side of her neck, then turned her around and bent her over the sofa, forcing her to prop her hands on the cushion for support. She whimpered as his big hands gripped her hips and he positioned himself, drove himself inside. Rafe took her deep and hard, just as he had promised. Olivia started coming and couldn't stop.

She cried out as another climax hit, burned through her. She called Rafe's name as his own release struck, felt his big hands tighten around her waist, holding her in place as he spilled himself inside her.

For several long moments, neither of them moved.

Eventually their breathing evened out and he eased her back against him. He dragged a handkerchief out of his pocket, reached around and handed it to her. When she'd finished, he pulled her jeans up, turned her into his arms and just held her. His hand smoothed gently over her back, and his tenderness, in contrast with the hard way he had taken her, made her eyes sting.

“I know you're in some kind of trouble,” Rafe said softly. “Let me help you, darlin'.”

She looked up at him and the tears in her eyes slid down her cheeks. “Please, Rafe. I can't . . . I can't do this.” Her throat ached. Her heart was squeezing. “I don't want to go, but if you keep this up, I'll have to leave. You have . . . have to let it be.”

Rafe studied her face. “Tell me what's wrong. Let me help you.”

She brushed away some of the wetness and just shook her head. “Promise me you'll stop what you're doing or . . . or . . .” She swallowed. “Or it's over between us.”

His eyes, dark and searching, found hers. “Are you sure that's the way you want it?”

Her heart jerked. He was going to end things. End their relationship before they ever had a chance. She couldn't have imagined the fierce stab of pain that hit her at the thought of losing him.

Her throat swelled with a fresh lump of tears. “That's . . . that's the way it has to be.”

Rafe cupped her face in his hands, bent his head, and very gently kissed her. “All right. Then we'll leave the past behind. I'll take you the way you are. Olivia Chandler, owner of the Pelican Café.”

A sob tore from her throat. Olivia curled her fingers into his shirt and leaned against him, pressed her face into his chest and started crying.

Rafe's arms tightened around her. “It's all right, baby.” His hand slid down her back, rubbing gently. “Everything's going to be okay.”

“Rafe . . .” She only cried harder, her body shaking with the force of her tears.

“It's gonna be all right, baby, I promise.”

“Oh God, Rafe . . .”

“Easy . . .”

With a shaky breath, she forced herself under control. “I'm sorry. I don't . . . I don't usually . . . I never cry.”

He eased her a little away, tipped her chin up. “Listen to me, Liv. I said it's going to be okay. You believe me, right? You trust me? You know I'd never do anything to hurt you?”

She swallowed, managed to nod. Rafe wouldn't hurt her. She knew that deep down. Knew it soul deep. “I know.”

He caught her face between his hands and very softly kissed her.

That was the moment she knew, the moment her heart squeezed hard and she knew.

She had done the most awful thing. She had let herself fall in love with him.