Body Heat (30 page)

Her goofy smile began to falter, so she backed away
from confronting those harsh realities. She could worry about that later, couldn't she? Would it be so terrible to forget caution for a change and accept whatever came to pass?

She didn't realize the light had turned green until a honk behind her said she was holding someone up. Embarrassed, she accelerated, heading south on Bordertown Boulevard toward Charlie's place. It was late, and she was tired. What she really wanted to do was go to the Boot and Spur and simply wait for Rod. She'd had enough upsetting revelations for one night. She preferred to cling to the euphoria of falling in love as long as possible.

But, for another month, she was still the chief of police. And while she was in law enforcement, she wouldn't let Gary get away with breaking the law. His incarceration would be her parting gift to the town.

She was about to turn onto Roadrunner Way when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She'd set it to silent when they'd entered the feed store.

Assuming it would be Rod, she answered without checking caller ID. “Hello?”

“Sophie?”

Rafe. She recognized his voice immediately, even though he sounded too dejected to be the kid she knew and loved. “What's up, buddy? You back from camp?”

“Yeah. Got back today.”

“What's the matter? You seem upset.” She glanced at the clock on the dash and silently cursed Starkey for letting Rafe stay up so late. It was after one.

“I'm not upset. I'm fine.”

He didn't sound “fine.” She was about to question him further but he spoke before she could frame the question in a way that he might actually answer it.

“Where are you? I stopped by the station, but it was locked up. You're not at home, either.”

Slowing, she pulled onto the shoulder. There wasn't another car as far as the eye could see, but she didn't want to continue to Charlie's ranch if Rafe needed her. “How do you know that, Rafe? Where are you?”

“In your front room.”

She'd shown him where she kept the hide-a-key, told him he could use it whenever he needed. She'd wanted him to understand that he always had a safe place to go. “Where's your father?”

The answer, when it came, was as sulky as any she'd ever heard. “At a stupid
party.
”

“Does he know you're at my house?”

“No.”

“You didn't tell him?”

“He doesn't care, anyway. I was gone for a week, and now he can't even stay home for one freakin' night. All he cares about is getting high or drunk and acting like an idiot.”

Sophia could've chastised him for speaking so disrespectfully about his father. She almost did. But it seemed pointless. Starkey deserved the criticism. “So…you got home and he took you with him to a party?”

“Yeah.”

“Where they were serving alcohol and doing drugs?”

“What else? He acts like that's all there is in life.”

“Is that why you decided to leave?”

“No. Shoot, every party has that stuff.”

Sophia hated the thought of what he'd witnessed in his young life. “So what happened?” No answer.

“Rafe?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Starkey had done something worse than usual.

“He just… He doesn't love me,” Rafe confided at last.

Wincing at the heartbreak in those words, Sophia remembered when she'd first started losing Starkey. They hadn't been together long before the lure of belonging to “the brotherhood” overcame his love for her, for Rafe, even his own self-preservation. The Angels provided a forum in which he could be accepted, admired. And for years that had meant more to him than anything, despite his occasional twinges of conscience. Now she knew it was alcoholism and habit that kept him bouncing between his conscience and his friends. She wasn't sure he'd ever win the tug-of-war, not until bad health or something else forced a change. It was one thing to want a better life and another to make the sacrifices necessary to obtain it.

Grateful to be out of the situation, Sophia wished she could get Rafe out, too. “That's not true, babe,” she said. “I think he does care about you.”

“No, he doesn't. And he doesn't love you, either. He says he does. He talks like he wishes we could all be a family. But…” When his words fell away, Sophia suspected he was fighting back tears.

Resting her forehead on the steering wheel, she let her breath go in a long exhalation. For the past few years, she'd been contemplating trying to effect a change where Rafe was concerned. But was this the best time? She was losing her job….

Regardless, she'd had enough. Suddenly, she seemed willing to take a lot of risks she'd avoided in the past. “Do you think your father would ever let you come and live with me?” she asked.

“You'd want me to?”

The excitement in his voice made her regret not offering sooner. She would have. But she'd never really believed Starkey would give Rafe up. Now…she wasn't so sure. There was a chance he would, if she made it clear that he could visit whenever he wanted. Why
not
let her take care of Rafe? He had to know she'd do a better job, and he certainly didn't want the responsibility. True, she wouldn't be happy with Starkey intruding on her life as often as he would if Rafe lived with her; that was part of the reason she'd always hesitated before. But she had to do it. For Rafe. “I'd like that very much.”

“Then it doesn't matter what he says. If I told half the shit—”

“Stuff,” she inserted.

“—stuff that I've seen, I'd be put in foster care, anyway.”

“But would you really want to sacrifice your entire relationship with your dad, Rafe?”

This question met with silence. As she'd thought, Rafe was upset but he didn't want to lose his father completely.

“I love him. It's just…I don't know what to do. If he doesn't quit, he'll end up in prison someday. Or dead.”

“What's he doing?”

“I can't tell you. But…it's not right.”

She had enough to worry about tonight without pressing Rafe to list the laws Starkey had broken most recently, so she moved on. “I'll talk to him. See what we can work out.”

“All I know is that I don't want to go back,” he said.

That was a huge admission. Rafe had never arrived at this point before. “What's changed?”

“I want a different life. I want to be normal, like Chase.”

Apparently, Chase wasn't as bad an influence as she'd feared. “We'll see what your father says,” she promised.

“Where are you?”

Putting the gearshift in Drive, she pulled a U-turn and headed back. “I'm coming home.”

“Will you bring me something to eat? I haven't had dinner. Unless you count the pretzels they had at the party. They never buy food. They only care about beer.”

“Nothing's open. But there's plenty of food in the fridge. Make yourself a sandwich. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

There was a slight pause. “Am I stopping you from working or…seeing someone? Because I can wait until you're done.”

She glanced at the documents in Rod's passenger seat. She had work to do, but she couldn't leave Rafe at her place. With everything that'd been happening lately, she wasn't sure it was safe. “I have to take care of a few things. But I'm coming to pick you up first.”

“Why don't I crash on the couch and see you in the morning? It's okay, you know. I'm used to staying alone. I don't want you to think I'll be a pain in the ass to live with or anything.”

She didn't bother pointing out his bad language. If Starkey allowed Rafe to move in with her, she'd have plenty of time to work with him on that—and on going to school, keeping up with his homework and getting home safely at night. “No, I'd rather bring you with me. I've missed you. Besides, we'll be staying somewhere else tonight.”

“We will? Where?”

“The Boot and Spur.”

“What's the Boot and Spur?”

“A dude ranch.”

“You mean with horses?”

“That's it. But I don't think we'll be able to ride. It's closed for renovations.”

He seemed to be calming down. Later, with any luck, he might even tell her what had set him off in the first place. “Lock the doors until I get there,” she said.

“You're the chief of police. Who's going to be stupid enough to break into your house?”

“You've heard about the shootings.”

“But I'm not an illegal alien.”

Obviously, he wasn't aware of Stuart Dunlap's murder, and she didn't want to discuss it right now. “Shootings can happen anywhere. Just do as I say. Lock the doors and don't open them for anyone.”

“Okay.” He said it as if she was acting crazy. His father never locked their house, and he ran around town unchaperoned half the time. But Rafe was willing to indulge her. “I'm doing it now.”

“Good. I'll be there soon.”

Sophia tossed her phone on the passenger seat and waited through two stoplights before reaching her own neighborhood. She was going right where Rod had told her not to go. But she couldn't leave Rafe at the house alone. What if whoever had killed Stuart was involved in the smuggling operation with her stepfather? If he thought she was on to him, or would soon be onto him, he might be coming after her.

And there was a chance he'd break in and shoot before realizing that she wasn't the one standing in the kitchen making a sandwich.

L
eonard couldn't believe his luck. Just as he was turning into Sophia's neighborhood, he'd spotted Rafe Robinson riding a bike a few feet ahead and had known instantly that they were headed to the same place. He'd followed him to her house, even sat at the curb visiting with him. He'd insisted Rafe go inside so he wouldn't have to “worry about you being out and about so late at night.” Then he'd driven around the block and parked where he could hear what went on inside. At that point, he'd known it was just a matter of time before Sophia and Rod returned. The Hummer was the only car that was missing, and they wouldn't leave Rafe by himself for long.

Minutes later, he'd heard part of a telephone conversation that confirmed it. They were on their way.

A rush of adrenaline prompted him to text Gary, to let him know what was going on, and check his guns. He'd chosen the rifle at the feed store. Now he selected one of the two handguns he'd also brought. Sophia and Rod wouldn't live to see the sunrise, at her place
or
the Boot and Spur. But it wasn't going to be as easy to get away with killing them at the house as it would've been at the store.

The boy was another obstacle….

So what was his plan? Should he wait for them to get home and go to bed before sneaking inside? No. They'd mentioned staying elsewhere, at the dude ranch west of town. They probably wouldn't hang out at the house for very long before going there. But dealing with three people could get messy very quickly.

He should let himself in now, get rid of the boy and be waiting for Sophia and Rod when they came home, he decided. They wouldn't be expecting an ambush.

And it was always better to go with the un expected….

 

According to the clock on Rod's phone, Bruce had left him sitting in the truck outside the Dunlap ranch house for nearly fifteen minutes. Since he didn't even have a vehicle to drive back into town, he was about to head inside to see what the hell was going on, when his father finally emerged, looking even more drawn and worried than he had in the parking lot of the Firelight.

“Sorry that took so long,” he mumbled as he got behind the wheel again.

“Is everything okay?”

He shook his head. “It's Edna. She…well, she's being Edna. I didn't want her to know you were here so I couldn't ask you in. Not today, anyway. That'd be too much for her after…” He didn't finish. “Anyway, I had to calm her down. She's worked herself into quite a state.” He sighed heavily. “She's taking this very hard, of course.”

So was Bruce. Only his was an inner battle, one that raged beneath a far more placid exterior. Rod could tell he was fragile by how gingerly and cautiously he moved and spoke. Every word, every step or gesture, struck him as deliberate, as if he'd shatter without perfect control.

Rod knew it'd be healthier for him to vent his anger and pain. And yet he understood why Bruce couldn't, or wouldn't. Edna was going to pieces. He had to be the strong one.

“Sorry,” his father said again, and started driving toward the central clearing, where all the farm equipment waited for a sunrise that would be anything but ordinary, when only two Dunlap men awoke on the farm.

Rod had never seen Bruce like this. His father certainly didn't seem like the austere figure he'd regarded with as much awe as contempt ever since he was a little boy. “Don't worry about it.”

“I finally got her to take a sedative. I think it'll help her get through the night.” He spoke as though this was a major victory, or at least information Rod would want to know. But he obviously didn't expect a response. It was just more of the pep talk he'd been giving himself all along:
We'll pull through it together. Sure we will. We'll cope… We're not the only family to have suffered a loss….

He didn't really feel he
could
cope. That was clear.

“Why'd we stop at the house?” Rod asked.

Bruce glanced over at him. “I needed to get the keys.”

“Keys to what?”

“Stuart's place.”

They were going to his dead brother's house? “Where's Patrick?”

“At home with his wife, I guess. I haven't talked to him in the past couple of hours. I'm hoping they're all in bed. They need the sleep.”

Bruce probably needed sleep more than anyone else. If he'd kept to his regular habits, he'd been up since five
this morning—for twenty-one hours. “Does Patrick know what you're going to show me?”

“No. I didn't tell him. I don't think I will.”

“Why not?”

“You'll see.”

Rod was almost afraid to guess what this might be about. Bruce seemed disillusioned in some way, which meant it wouldn't be good. “Does this have anything to do with what Patrick and Edna had to say to me at the Rockin' Rooster?”

They passed the farm equipment and took the side road along the fence in the opposite direction from the laborers' shacks. “No. I'm sorry about that, too. At first glance, you seem like the person to blame, I guess. And Edna's looking for a target. Anger is so much easier than grief.”

“What about Patrick? He's just angry, too?”

“He's defensive of his mother. As the oldest, he tries to look out for her. Feels it would be disloyal to see you as anything other than an interloper. Crazy thing is, the whole situation's my fault, as you've tried to point out. I'm not sure why they've always blamed you and not me, but I've often wondered.”

“They love you,” Rod said simply.

There was a faint smile on Bruce's lips. “I guess. Edna used to, anyway. Now…I think we're destroying each other.” He'd attempted to turn it into a casual statement, but Rod sensed that the breakdown of Bruce's marriage was hurting him almost as badly as the loss of his son.

Rod had always believed he'd be happy to see the Dunlaps' “perfect” world crumble. But he didn't feel that way at all. Fourteen years seemed like an awfully long time to carry a grudge. These people were as human and fallible
as he was. They'd been so frightened of him, so frightened by what he might become to Bruce, that they'd reacted viciously to protect their own.

“Have you considered marriage counseling?” he asked.

“No. Do you think that might help?”

“It's worth a shot, right?” That was the
last
thing Rod had ever expected to say to his father. And yet…he meant it. What good would it do him to see Bruce and Edna break up? Especially at this late date?

Suddenly, he wanted the Dunlaps to go back to being perfect. Not only did he want Stuart to be alive, he wanted Edna to be confident of her superiority and Bruce to be doing his level best to keep them all happy, even if it meant ignoring the bastard child he'd accidentally sired. Because
he
was that bastard child, and he could take it. His past had made him strong. He wasn't sure he could say the same for them, wasn't sure they could withstand the opposite, the change. It just took seeing them up close to realize how he truly felt.

“There's something you need to know.” Rod figured now was the time to say it. They might never be alone again, never have another opportunity.

Swerving to avoid a pothole in a road he must have navigated a million times, Bruce adjusted the air-conditioning, but the way he tensed made it clear he was preparing for more of the biting criticism Rod had thrown at him in recent years. “What's that?”

“I forgive you. And that forgiveness is free. It doesn't cost you anything. Not the sacrifice of your marriage. Or the relationship you have with Patrick. Or the positive memories of Stuart. Or a cent of your money. Or an acre of the farm. It's completely free.”

Bruce stopped the truck. “You'll get an equal share. I've already decided it. And nothing Edna says will ever change my mind. You're in the will.”

“I believe you'd like to do that for me,” Rod said and, as he spoke, he knew it was true. He did believe his father's remorse was real. “But you can take me out. I don't need it. I'm okay just as I am. Except for one thing.”

Bruce seemed to be having difficulty accepting that Rod meant what he'd said. “What's that?”

“I want you to forgive yourself, too.”

Tears began to streak down his cheeks. Embarrassed by his display of emotion, he averted his face and tried to wipe them away, but now that the veneer had cracked they wouldn't stop coming. “Ah, I'm a mess,” he muttered into his hand.

“You've lost a son. I think you're entitled.”

For the first time in Rod's life, his father squeezed his shoulder with affection. “God, I'm proud of you,” he said.

 

Because Sophia was in a hurry, she didn't get out of the Hummer. She pulled to the curb and called Rafe to tell him to come outside.

The phone rang four times. Then her voice mail picked up.
Hello. This is Chief St. Claire….

She didn't bother leaving a message.

The light was on in the living room. She could see it through the closed curtains. And she'd talked to Rafe less than five minutes ago. So where was he? Why wasn't he answering?

Maybe he was using the bathroom.

She waited a couple of minutes and dialed a second time.

Again, there was no answer. If he was in the bathroom, he was taking a long time. Or did he think the call might be from his father? Was he trying to avoid a confrontation with Starkey?

Shoving the gearshift into Park, she turned off the engine, got out and locked the vehicle to protect the evidence she'd collected at the feed store. She was halfway to the house when she decided not to leave that information in the Hummer and went back to retrieve it. Where she was going to stash it, she didn't know. Anyone who came looking for it would probably search her house. But it would be safer with her than left unattended in a car, even for a few minutes.

The locks made a thunking sound as she pressed the button on Rod's key ring. She was about to open the passenger door when a car turned at the corner. From what she could see thanks to the streetlights, it appeared to be an old souped-up Ford Ranchero. She didn't know whose it was, and the tinted windows made it impossible to see inside.

Afraid it might be a gunman, Sophia dropped to her knees so she could use the Hummer as a shield. She definitely didn't want to run for the house and draw the danger toward Rafe or be shot while she was crossing the yard. But there were no shots. The Ranchero stopped across the street, a door opened and closed, and the heavy step of a man approached.

Taking her gun from its holster, Sophia held it ready as she peered around the front bumper of the Hummer. Then she breathed a huge sigh of relief. It wasn't a gunman. It was Starkey. She would've recognized his shape and walk anywhere. Where he'd gotten that Ranchero, she didn't
know, but since he'd wrecked his motorcycle it seemed he was always driving something different.

Sagging against the tire, she lowered her gun and breathed deeply to counteract the adrenaline pumping through her system. With Starkey's arrival, she knew she and Rafe had a fight on their hands. He wouldn't be happy with Rafe's defection. But at least this was a familiar fight. Not a life-threatening one.

He hadn't spotted her. He walked straight past her and up to the door with the determination of someone who was angry and felt he had every right to be.

Not in any rush to get into an argument with him, Sophia returned her gun to its holster. She still had to get the ledger evidence from the car. She figured she'd do that first, hide it in her garage, then go inside to support Rafe.

She was just getting to her feet when she heard two blasts from inside.

Starkey broke into a run and threw open the door. Sophia barely had a chance to wonder why it was unlocked when a third shot echoed through the otherwise silent night.

For a moment, she felt as if she was watching the scene from much farther away. Probably because she couldn't get to Starkey fast enough. It felt as though she was living one of those dreams where she ran and ran and ran but couldn't move. She wasn't even sure if she'd yelled his name. Maybe she'd only screamed it in her head. Everything froze for three or four heartbeats, just long enough for her to grasp what had happened, then jolted into fast-forward.

Starkey had been shot. She'd heard him cry out and hit the door as the bullet knocked him back. She'd grabbed
her gun and started across the lawn before realizing that it wouldn't do him or Rafe any good if she walked into a bullet. Instead of continuing to the doorway, she returned to the Hummer and ducked behind it to collect her fractured thoughts.

Was Starkey dead? What about Rafe? She'd heard two shots before the one that'd hit Starkey….

Oh, God!
Someone had come after her. Whoever it was had beaten her home and encountered Rafe instead of her, exactly as she'd feared.

Blinking to clear the tears that automatically welled up, blurring her vision, she called 911 on her cell phone. She asked county dispatch to send her some backup and an ambulance, then climbed into the driver's seat and pulled the Hummer into the driveway, where she wouldn't be visible from any of the windows when she got out.

After hiding the photocopies she'd made at the feed store beneath the seat, she locked up and dashed over to the side door of her garage. She had no idea what she'd encounter when she went inside. For all she knew the person who'd just shot Starkey could be coming out the same door. Or, if he'd stuck around long enough to see that he'd shot the wrong person, he could be waiting for her….

There was no way to tell. But whether the gunman was in the house or not, she had to enter. She couldn't call the police and stand safely on the sidelines, because she
was
the police. And the last she knew, Rafe had been inside. If he lay bleeding on the floor like Starkey, she had to get to him before it was too late.