Midnight Sins (33 page)

The first social, a more formal affair for the

adults, was the highlight of the beginning of the spring

and summer season. It was time to dust off dancing

shoes and evening jackets and polish social smiles.

Cami had purchased her dress the month before

while in Denver helping her father choose the rest

home they would be placing her mother in.

She’d found the perfect strapless little number at

one of the small exclusive stores there, and had

bought it immediately, despite its hefty price tag.

That morning, the sun streaming through the

skylight above her bed filled the room with heat,

pulling her eyes open after a restless night and

greeting her with the feel of its heated warmth.

The warming temperatures managed to give her

an energy she hadn’t had since the blizzard. Putting it

to use after a quick shower, she found herself

cleaning house, the back deck, and her front porch as

the heat glistened off the landscape and the snow

slowly began to melt.

It wasn’t a heat wave, but it was warm enough to

allow the citizens of Sweetrock to begin clearing the

fluff and the winter collection of dust and gloom that

had accumulated.

Families were gathering in their yards along the

block, working as a unit, parents overseeing and

helping the younger children in many of the chores.

The spurt of energy Cami felt was also infecting

others it seemed.

For most of the day, laughter and generally goodnatured

comments could be heard echoing around

the block, reminding Cami why she had bought the

home her parents had owned. All around the

neighborhood there was a sense of the one thing she

had never had.

That sense of family.

As she worked, both in the back yard that faced

the wide alley and on the front porch, her gaze moved

constantly to the vehicles driving by. She kept hoping,

not expecting, she assured herself, Rafer to make an

appearance.

She didn’t want to admit to herself that there was

a part of her that hoped Rafe would show up. The

nights spent tossing and turning restlessly had given

her too much time to think. Too much time to realize

things she didn’t want to realize.

She needed him. The ache that seemed to

spread through her body, that need to touch and be

touched that was driving her crazy, was all because of

him.

When dusk began to close in and the

temperature dropped once again, families began to

retreat into the warmth of their homes. Quiet began to

fill the street as Cami stepped out to the wide,

covered front porch carrying the piece of porch

furniture she’d pulled from the garage, and gazed

around the darkness silently.

The street lights cast shadows along the bare

limbs of the trees lining the sidewalk. The almost

sinister cast of the long-reaching fingers of darkness

had a chill chasing up Cami’s spine.

She had never noticed it before. She had never

paid attention to how easy it would be for someone to

watch her house, or even to find a secretive path to

her home if they wanted to.

She had security, but security could be

bypassed.

She had never realized the weaknesses in her

protection until the phone calls had begun. But then,

she remembered Jaymi too had become more

diligent in her home security when she had been

receiving the threatening calls.

There had been two blocked calls in the past two

days. One each night, and they kept her nerves on

edge as much as the restless hunger for Rafer did. If

she left the house, she wondered if she was being

followed. When she came home, she was a paranoid

wreck until she realized no one had managed to

breach her security, such as it was.

It would often take her hours to remind herself

that Jaymi hadn’t been taken while inside her home.

Still, the paranoia was there and strong enough

that as the chill swept through her, Cami immediately

retreated into the house and began locking up.

Windows and doors were checked, curtains

were securely pulled closed. As she closed the last of

the curtains, she stood in her bedroom for a moment

and gazed around the room. It had been her mother’s

room. Not her parents’ room, just her mother’s.

The master suite with its small sitting area and

inviting, king-sized bed she so loved. The creamcolored

walls and ceiling were a perfect backdrop for

the dark oak floors and furnishings, which the

bedclothes, dripping with lace from the sheets to the

comforter, lightened and feminized the room just

enough to keep it from being ostentatiously girly.

The old-fashioned vanity table and lace-draped

chair took care of that on its own.

It was hers, and the thought of losing it out of fear

rather than choice just pissed her off. She hated fear.

She was learning just how much she hated being

frightened.

As she was coming back downstairs, the sound

of the doorbell, unexpected and overly loud in the

quiet house, had her jerking back so hard she nearly

stumbled on the stairs.

“Ridiculous,” she murmured as she took a deep

breath, her eyes rolling at the sense of melodrama

she realized she might be displaying.

She was letting those phone calls get to her way

too much. And she wasn’t even certain, she had only

suspicions to go by that the phone calls had anything

to do with Jaymi’s death. After all, none of the other

women who had died that summer had told anyone

about any phone calls. And to the best of anyone’s

knowledge, the other women hadn’t been one of the

Callahan cousins’ lovers.

Moving quickly down the stairs, she lifted herself

to look through the peephole, then draw back with a

frown. That sense of unreality once again began to

close in on her. It was rather hard to believe that

particular person was actually standing on the other

side of the door.

Lifting up, she checked again, and once again

she saw the same, expensively dressed, arroganteyed

individual she had seen the first time she had

checked.

“Ms. Flannigan, I’m aware you’re on the other

side.” Bored and heavy with impatience, the voice

drifted through the heavy door. “I’ll only take a moment

of your time, if you don’t mind?”

Only a moment of her time, huh?

She had a feeling he was about to take up a hell

of a lot more than a moment of her time. This

particular person could cause her life to go to hell in a

handbasket, which would take up a hell of a lot more

than a moment of her time.

Moving back, she quickly opened the door,

stepped back, and allowed him in.

Considering who her visitor was, there wasn’t a

chance in hell he could kill her without at least

someone telling someone who had been there. And

once that happened, Rafe would learn who it was that

had been at the house.

Then, blood would spill.

Hell, maybe she should have just pretended she

wasn’t home.

Pushing the door closed, he didn’t even flinch as

it smacked against the frame a little harder than

needed.

She wanted to at least give the hint that she

wasn’t pleased to see him there.

Flipping the locks back in place, she prepared

herself before turning back to him and crossing her

arms over her breasts as she confronted him.

“And what can I do for you, Mr. Roberts?”

Rafer’s grandfather.

She’d always thought Rafer looked more like his

Callahan father than the Roberts’ side of the family.

Staring back at Rafer’s grandfather, though, she

realized there was no denying they were definitely

related. Closely related.

Marshal Roberts had the same, intense blue

eyes Rafer possessed. She’d heard his mother had

had the same rich, mesmerizing color of eyes. The

arch of the brow was the same, and that same

arrogant line of the jaw.

Marshal Roberts’s hair was now a shade of dark

silver where it had once been a dark, dark brown.

Rafer had that deep raven’s black that all Callahan

men had been known for, but he also had that same

heavy wave at the front where the rest were ribbonstraight.

He wasn’t as tall as his grandson either. He

stood only six feet while Rafer stood a towering six

two. But his shoulders were just as broad, and even

nearing seventy, he was still an imposing figure of a

man.

Marshal looked around, curiosity flickering in his

gaze as he seemed to linger on the mantel of pictures

over the fireplace.

“Your family?” He gestured to the pictures as he

moved to them, reached out and picked up a frame

that held an eight by ten of her father, mother, and

Jaymi.

“Yes.” As though he didn’t already know.

“Strange,” he murmured, glancing back at her. “I

see very few of you here.”

He indicated one or two of her and Jaymi alone.

There were no pictures of her with her mother, and

definitely none of her with her father.

“Rub the salt in the wound,” she offered

mockingly. “Then please be kind enough to tell me

why you’re here.”

He turned back and replaced the picture before

appearing to peruse the rest.

He was a member of the school board, which

meant he held her job in the palm of his hand. He was

a member of the city council, once again, a very heavy

influence on her job. He was the president this year of

the business leaders’ association as well as the cattle

ranchers’ association. Okay, so that didn’t have a lot

of bearing, just a lot of influence over the other two.

He was a very busy man.

So what was he doing here wasting his time with

her?

She could pretty much guess at this point. It was

just so out of character for him to really care that she

could only stare at him in bemusement.

And where was his driver? Because everyone

knew Marshal Roberts didn’t drive himself anywhere.

But she hadn’t seen anyone else in the unassuming

pick-up truck sitting at her curb and no one was at the

door with him before he came in.

Though she honestly couldn’t say she had ever

heard of Marshal Roberts visiting any of Rafer’s past

girlfriends, lovers, friends, or various associates. He’d

always pretended his grandson didn’t exist in any

capacity or area of his consciousness. If one

mentioned Rafer, she heard he turned away or stared