To Catch a Thief Read online

  “No.”

  George’s gaze narrowed. “Is there some deep, dark secret to it?”

  “No, it’s just a confidential matter. I can’t discuss it.”

  “Okay, then, let me think. What kind of professions take their secrets so seriously? You don’t strike me as a psychiatrist. And given the way you were kissing my daughter, I doubt you’re a priest. How am I doing so far?”

  “Right on target,” Rafe conceded, impressed with the man’s deductive reasoning, if not the suspicion behind it.

  “Then I’d say that leaves the law. Are you an attorney, Mr. O’Donnell? And if you are, what business could you possibly have that concerns my daughter?”

  “I never said—”

  “Let’s get serious,” George said, leaning forward. “Your being here is no accident. You’re not a tourist. Your bumping into Gina way out here, when it just so happens that the two of you live in New York, is no coincidence. The way I figure it, you’re either stalking her or she’s in trouble. Which is it?”

  Rafe admired the man’s blunt assessment. He had a feeling that under other circumstances, they could get along very well. “I think you should discuss this with Gina, not me.”

  “The only person I’m going to be discussing anything with is the sheriff, if I don’t get a straight answer in the next ten seconds.”

  Rafe nodded, accepting the fatherly concern and the determination he saw on George Petrillo’s face. “Okay, then. I’ll tell you as much as I can. I came out here because of your daughter. I’m handling a case involving her business partner. I thought Gina might have some information.”

  “Does she?”

  “She says she doesn’t.”

  “Then go home, Mr. O’Donnell. If Gina says she doesn’t know anything, then she doesn’t know anything.”

  “I wish I could do that, Mr. Petrillo, but I can’t. Your daughter is my best link to Roberto Rinaldi. Sooner or later they’re bound to be in contact.”

  “And when they are, I’m sure she’ll let you know,” her father said. “Gina’s an honest, law-abiding citizen. That’s the way we raised her.”

  “As reassuring as it is to hear you say that, it’s not good enough.”

  George frowned. “You’re not suggesting that my daughter is mixed up in whatever this Rinaldi fellow did, are you?” There was a sudden flash of alarm in his eyes. “Did he kill somebody? Gina’s not in any danger, is she?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that, I assure you.”

  “Then what are you suggesting that my daughter’s mixed up in?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just saying that I can’t leave here until I know more than I know now.”

  George Petrillo sighed. “If this is all about some legal difficulty my daughter and her partner might or might not be in, what the hell was that kiss at the house all about? Was that just some sneaky tactic to try to get her to talk?”

  Rafe felt his cheeks burn. He should have known better. Not only had his behavior been unprofessional, but both of those kisses they’d shared had been in plain view of Gina’s neighbors or her family. The very least he could have done was to exercise more discretion.

  “Actually, that was a mistake.”

  “Which time? At the rodeo or at the house?”

  “Both times, to be perfectly honest.”

  “Then I suggest you keep your hands to yourself from now on. I don’t want to hear any more about any so-called mistakes. This isn’t New York City, where two people can get away with anything. Around here there are reputations to be considered. Eventually you’ll go on your way, but Gina has to live in this community.”

  “I thought Gina lived in New York.”

  “This is her home. New York is where she works,” her father said, making the same distinction Gina herself had once made. “Keep that in mind.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Rafe promised.

  George bobbed his head, clearly satisfied that he’d put Rafe on notice. “See that you do,” he said as he jammed his hat on his head and strolled away, pausing for a minute to share a joke with Stella before heading for the door.

  After he’d gone, Rafe muttered a sharp expletive. Why was it that every time he was around Gina, her friends or her family, they wound up asking all the questions? He hadn’t been on the defensive so much since he’d discovered in the middle of a trial that his client had been lying to him about almost everything except his name. And he didn’t like the feeling any better now than he had then.

  Nor was he crazy about the fact that he hadn’t even discovered why Gina’s trip had already lasted several days longer than originally anticipated. Just when the query had been on the tip of his tongue, George Petrillo had cleverly distracted him with his own barrage of questions.

  The fragile trust Rafe had begun to feel for Gina was already wavering. He’d give her one more day. If she didn’t turn up tomorrow, he was going after her. And heaven help her if she wasn’t where she had told him she would be—at Mrs. Collins’s bedside in Denver.

  For some reason Gina wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Rafe sitting in a parked car just down the street from her house when she finally got back home several days after she’d intended to. She hadn’t been on such an emotional roller coaster in years. A confrontation with him fit right in.

  She watched him strolling toward her, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. One word, she thought. Let him say just one wrong word and she would belt him. After what she and her friends had been through, she was just itching to take her anger out on somebody.

  Rafe bent down to peer in the car window. “You okay?”

  “No.”

  He seemed taken aback by her response. “What’s wrong?” he asked eventually.

  “Everything.”

  “Are you planning on sitting in there all evening?”

  She scowled at him. “I might.”

  Rafe shrugged and walked around to the other side of the car, then got in. He sat there, staring straight ahead, seemingly perfectly comfortable with the silence.

  “Caleb died,” she finally murmured, barely able to get the words out. “Karen’s husband. He just collapsed and died. It happened while we were in Denver. By the time we got to the hospital in Laramie, he was dead. I’ve been staying with Karen at her ranch for the last few days.” She glanced at him. “In case you were wondering where I’d run off to.”

  “Never crossed my mind,” he said.

  She almost managed a smile at that. “Liar.”

  “I’m sorry about Caleb,” he said.

  Gina regarded him with faint surprise. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “I do. I didn’t meet him at the reunion, but I saw you and the others with him. It was obvious how close you were. It must have been a terrible shock.”

  “It was. I don’t know how Karen’s going to manage without him.” Gina hoped she would never experience the kind of loss that Karen was going through. Karen was heartbroken and racked with guilt because she hadn’t been there. Nothing anyone had said had been able to console her.

  “She could lose their ranch,” Gina whispered. “That will kill her. It meant everything to Caleb, but I don’t know if Karen can keep it running on her own. I would hate to lose Café Tuscany, but it’s not the same. I love it, but it’s just a business. Even I can see that. That ranch meant everything to Karen and Caleb. And there’s this man, Grady Blackhawk, who’s just waiting in the wings to take it from her.”

  She shuddered at the thought. “How can something like this happen?” she asked bitterly. “Caleb didn’t deserve to die. Karen certainly doesn’t deserve this.”

  Gina glanced at Rafe to see how he was reacting to her tirade. Not until he reached over and brushed away the tears on her cheeks did she realize that she’d been crying.

  “I’m sorry I’m so emotional,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you. I just can’t bear the way Karen looks, so lost and alone. She�
�s one of my best friends. How can I even think about going back to New York in a few days and leaving her here to cope?”

  “The others—” Rafe began.

  “Will be leaving, too,” Gina said. “Except for Cassie. She’s staying because of her mom. At least that’s the excuse. I think there’s more to it. Her son’s father is here and they have a whole lot of unfinished business between them. Lauren says she can stay a little longer. And Emma may be coming back and forth for a while.”

  “See, Karen will have people to look after her.”

  “I need to be here,” Gina said firmly. As much as she loved Café Tuscany and her life in New York, nothing was as important as this, as being here when her friend needed her. “I have to call Deidre. Maybe she can go on managing things a little longer.”

  Looking resigned, Rafe handed her his cell phone. “Call.”

  Gina accepted the phone, but before she could dial, she remembered the deposition. “Rafe, I’m not deliberately trying to avoid the deposition.”

  “I know,” he said with something akin to admiration in his eyes. “You’re a remarkable woman, Gina Petrillo.”

  Startled, she stared at him. “Remarkable? Me?”

  He grinned. “Yes, you. With everything that’s at stake for you back in New York, your first priority is your friend’s well-being. That’s an admirable quality. It makes me wonder how you ever got mixed up with a sleaze like Rinaldi.”

  “Just lucky, I guess,” she said wryly.

  “Make your call.”

  “I could…” She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I could talk to Emma. Perhaps we could do the deposition here. I know you can’t hang around out here forever.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. Take care of your business. After that I want you to go inside, take a shower and then I’m taking you out to dinner.”

  “I don’t know,” she protested, though without much vehemence. “I’m beat. I’ll be lousy company.”

  “You don’t have to entertain me, Gina. But you do need to eat a decent meal and get some color back in your cheeks. How can I possibly go after you in a deposition, if you look as if you might faint at any second?”

  “Oh, I think I can handle you any day of the week,” she retorted, feeling better already at the prospect of a good battle of wits. She handed back the cell phone. “I’ll call from inside. I don’t need you listening in on my trade secrets. Give me twenty minutes.”

  Rafe grinned. “Should I call Tony’s and make a reservation?”

  “Winding River’s not New York. Besides, Tony always has room for me.”

  Rafe regarded her with suspicion. “Not in the kitchen, I hope.”

  “No, I imagine he’ll let us sit in the dining room just this once.”

  He nodded. “Twenty minutes, then. I’ll be waiting in my car.”

  “You could come inside or sit on the porch,” she offered.

  “No, thanks. I think it’s probably best if I give your father a wide berth.”

  “Really? Sounds as if there’s a story there.”

  “I’ll tell you during dinner.”

  Gina ran inside, gave her parents a quick report on Karen, then made the call to New York. Deidre was surprisingly reassuring.

  “We’ve been packed as usual. The guys in the kitchen are managing. Ronnie’s been amazing. You’d think he’d been running the kitchen all along,” she said with evident pride. “You and Bobby trained them well. The food’s as great as ever. If you need to stay out there, we’ll be okay. You do whatever you need to do.”

  Gina thought of the stack of unpaid bills she’d left behind. “Deidre, there could be problems with some of our suppliers,” she said reluctantly.

  “I know,” the other woman said. “I saw the bills. Don’t worry. You left me with a stack of signed checks. I’ve written a few to pay some of the suppliers who were starting to get testy, and I’ve spoken to the other vendors. We’ll be okay, at least for a little while.”

  Deidre hesitated, then added. “Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I can tell there’s a problem. If there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is ask. You gave me this job when I really needed one—I owe you. I don’t have any cash to lend you, but I’ve gotten real good at juggling creditors. I’ll keep the hounds at bay for as long as I can.”

  “Have I ever told you how terrific you are?” Gina asked.

  “At least once a day. Now let me get back to work. I’ve got a line of customers waiting to be seated.”

  “Then by all means go. Thanks, Deidre. You’re a godsend.”

  Feeling vastly relieved by the news from New York, she took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of jeans, her boots and added a sleeveless gingham shirt.

  “Where are you going?” her father called as she passed the living room.

  “Out to dinner.”

  “All alone?” her mother asked.

  “No, Rafe’s waiting.”

  Her father’s expression darkened. “I thought I made myself clear to that man.”

  Gina regarded him with alarm. “Daddy, what did you say to Rafe?”

  “Just that he needs to remember that this is a small town and I will not allow him to ruin your reputation.”

  “How terribly gallant of you, but the warning is unnecessary. Rafe and I are just…” She couldn’t seem to think of a suitable word.

  Friends certainly didn’t describe it. And they were more than acquaintances. Given the sizzle in the air each time they met, prospective lovers seemed apt, but she could hardly admit that to her father. Or even to herself, under the circumstances. She was pretty sure it was unwise, at the very least, to contemplate getting into bed with a man who was about to grill her. Surely she had learned that lesson after a few months with the suspicious Carlo.

  Eventually she just sighed. “You don’t need to worry, that’s all.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” her father grumbled. “Be home by midnight.”

  “George,” her mother protested. “Gina’s a grown woman.”

  “Maybe so, but there’s not a lot to do after midnight in Winding River except get in trouble, if you catch my drift. Why do you think we have all those shotgun weddings right after graduation every year?”

  Gina planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m a long way out of high school, but I promise that Rafe and I won’t go down to the river and engage in any hanky-panky after dinner.”

  But, of course, now that the idea had been planted in her head, that was exactly what she most wanted to do. From the moment she had watched her best friend’s husband being buried, she had desperately wanted to do something—anything—that would remind her that she was still very much alive.

  Rafe promised himself he was going to be on his best behavior over dinner. No probing questions. No sneak attacks on Gina’s credibility. And most important of all, no crossing the line—which meant no kisses, no lingering caresses, no steamy looks.

  Obviously, he’d lied to himself. So far he’d managed to keep the questions, at least about Rinaldi, to a minimum, but he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. There were a million and one excuses for touching Gina. After all, he had to help her out of the car, didn’t he? And it was only polite to slip his arm around her waist when they crossed the street, right? And that stray curl that skimmed her cheek needed to be tucked behind her ear, didn’t it? Could he help it if his fingers brushed hers when he handed her the menu or lingered when her hand trembled ever so slightly? She’d had a rough few days. He was only offering comfort.

  And pigs flew, he thought in self-disgust.

  “Rafe, is there some problem?” Gina asked, studying him worriedly.

  “Nope,” he said flatly, then turned his gaze to the selections on the menu. He’d expected little more than pizza and spaghetti and was surprised to find far more intriguing offerings.

  “Your friend Tony has quite a menu,” he noted.

  “He’s added a few things since I worked her
e.” She grinned. “I send him a new recipe for Christmas every year.”

  “Only once a year?”

  “The locals can’t accept too much change all at once. You’ll notice that plain old spaghetti and meatballs is still on the menu. There would be a revolt if he took it off, but once in a while he can talk his customers into trying something new.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “The penne arrabiata,” she said without hesitation. “The tomato sauce has a little kick to it. I gave that one to him when I was in here the other day.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Yes, I can see why something spicy would appeal to you.” He put the menu aside. “What about wine? Shall we order a bottle?”

  “Only if you can settle for the house Chianti. I haven’t been able to talk Tony into starting a decent wine cellar.”

  “Chianti it is, then.”

  As soon as the waitress had taken their order with a promise to let Tony know that it was for Gina and her friend, Rafe studied Gina. “You look better. How did the phone call go?”

  “The restaurant is very busy. Deidre’s holding the creditors at bay. I can stay on here a while longer.”

  “But not indefinitely,” Rafe said. “Not if you expect to pull Café Tuscany out of this mess. You’re going to have to go back and face it.”

  Her cheerful expression faltered. “I know, but just for tonight can we not talk about it?”

  Rafe hesitated. “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to—or even should—discuss any of this with, but I’m a halfway-decent listener.”

  “I’m sure you are, but how do I know that you won’t take every word I say and twist it? Let’s face it, you’re not out here because you want to get to know me. You’re here because you think I’m guilty of a crime.”

  “Not guilty, just involved,” Rafe corrected.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “I know you’re involved with Rinaldi, and I know that he’s done some shady financial deals.”

  “That’s guilt by association,” Gina pointed out. “Because Bobby’s guilty, then I must be, too. That’s what you’re saying.”