To Catch a Thief (9 page)

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 here.” 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.”

Rafe shook his head. “No, I’m trying to keep an open mind where you’re concerned.”

She regarded him doubtfully.

“Okay, maybe when I first scheduled the deposition, I made some assumptions,” he conceded.

“And now?”

“I’m beginning to think my secretary might have been right, though if you ever tell her that, I’ll be forced to deny it.”

“Your secretary?”

“Lydia Allen. She’s a big fan of yours and your restaurant. From the beginning she told me I was crazy for suspecting you of anything.”

Gina’s eyes brightened. “I know Lydia. I should have realized who she was when I first spoke to her about changing the deposition. She’s a regular at the restaurant. And she works for you? How fascinating. You must have some redeeming qualities, then, if you can keep a woman like that on your payroll.”

Rafe winced. “She might not agree. In fact, she says she stays with me precisely because I need someone to keep me honest.”

“You’re scared of her, aren’t you?” she said, clearly enjoying the discovery. “What is she? Five-two, a hundred and five pounds? And you’re scared of her. I love it.”

“I am not scared of her,” he insisted.

“Oh?”

He grinned. “Actually, I’m terrified. She can make my life a living hell. In fact, she takes great pride in it.”

Gina chuckled. “I’ll have to call Deidre and let her know that Lydia’s next meal is on the house.”

“Which won’t do much to help your financial situation,” Rafe pointed out. “Nor will it do a thing to get you into my good graces.”

Her gaze narrowed. “What would it take for me to get in your good graces?”

“Some honest answers.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Rafe.”

“But you haven’t told me the whole truth, either.”

“I will when the time comes.”

His spirits, which had been astonishingly light during their bantering exchange, sank. “And that will be?”

“When we do the deposition,” she said flatly, and turned her gaze to Tony, who was crossing the restaurant, a beaming smile on his face for Gina, a cooler acknowledgment for Rafe.

Rafe couldn’t help the trace of envy that filled him as he listened to the warm exchange between these two old friends. He wasn’t used to feeling shut out, all but ignored, especially by a woman. Nor was he used to the distrust that Tony made no attempt to hide.

After the man had gone to check on their meal, Gina regarded him apologetically. “Sorry about that. Tony’s very protective of me, and he knows about everything that happened with Bobby and that you’re here to keep an eye on me. He’s worried about what’s going on with the two of us.”

“You mean romantically?”

She had the audacity to laugh at that. “Hardly! No, he’s convinced you have ulterior motives, that you’re trying to wear me down so I’ll incriminate myself. He mentioned it after meeting you the other day.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That you were a lawyer. That seemed to be explanation enough.”

The stereotype rankled. “Your friend Emma is a lawyer. He doesn’t distrust her, does he?”

“No, but Emma grew up here. That gives her an advantage.”

A few minutes later Tony returned with steaming plates
filled with aromatic pasta. He served them, cast yet another suspicious look at Rafe, then returned to the kitchen.

“It’s no fun, is it?” Gina asked.

“What?”

“Being regarded with distrust.”

“No,” Rafe agreed.

She smiled happily at that. “Good. Then you know how I feel every time I catch you watching me.”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he agreed, then leaned across the table, his gaze locked with hers. “But just so you know, sometimes when I’m watching you, it’s because I find you both fascinating and stunning, and I can’t take my eyes off you.”

She stared at him, openmouthed, as he sat back and lifted his glass in a silent toast, then grinned. “Gives you something to think about, doesn’t it?”

“Rafe, I don’t think we ought to go there, do you?” she said, clearly flustered.

“Probably not,” he agreed readily.

Unfortunately, he was pretty sure it was too late to derail that particular train.

T
he ringing phone woke Rafe out of a sound sleep, rousing him from a dream in which he and Gina were entangled on a feather mattress, engaging in some very slow, incredibly provocative acts. Even before he picked up the receiver, he hated whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Rafe, why haven’t I heard from you?” his mother demanded in a petulant tone.

“Good morning, Mother. How lovely to hear your voice,” he muttered, knowing the sarcasm would go straight over her head. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you are not keeping me informed. Am I or am I not your client?”

“You’re one of them,” he agreed, glancing at the clock and groaning when he realized it was barely 6:00 a.m. He and Gina had stayed out late the night before, doing absolutely none of the things he’d wanted most to do, which
was probably why his dreams had been particularly steamy.

“The most important one, I should think,” she grumbled.

“Actually you’re the only one who’s not paying me,” he pointed out. “I took on your case pro bono, if you recall.”

“I still think I should be getting an update from time to time. Have you found Bobby? Will I be getting my money back?”

“I haven’t found Bobby. As for your money, we’ll know more about that once I find out where he’s gone.”

“Well, if you don’t know anything, why on earth are you vacationing in Wyoming, of all places?”

Rafe gritted his teeth. “I am not on vacation. I’m following a lead.”

“Don’t you have investigators to do that?”

“Sure I do. They cost quite a bit. Shall I put their expenses on your bill?”

Adele O’Donnell Tinsley Warwick sucked in her breath. “There’s no need to be snide, Rafe.”

“I’m sorry,” Rafe apologized automatically. “Since I have you on the line, let me ask you again if Bobby ever said anything at all about any place he particularly liked, some country or city he might be holed up in now? Is he the kind who’d hide all his ill-gotten gains in a Swiss bank account, or would he head for the Cayman Islands?”

“Neither. When he was with me, he seemed quite content to be in New York. From my point of view, none of this makes any sense. I thought he was happy. I thought we were happy. We were together for five years. Well, most of five years. There was that period when I thought I might be in love with Mitchell Davis, but he turned out to still have a wife tucked away upstate.”

“Yes, I recall,” Rafe said wearily. Obviously, his mother made a habit of deluding herself about the importance of a relationship. He sighed, then asked, “What do you know about Rinaldi’s business partner?”

“Gina? He rarely mentioned her,” she said dismissively. “I got the sense that she was contributing very little to the business, other than a certain flair she had with the customers and preparation of some of the dishes on the menu. Bobby was the money man and the brains behind the place. I always had the feeling she was holding him back, that her thinking was far too conservative.”

“Perhaps she had good reason for being that way, since Rinaldi was so irresponsible where money was concerned,” he suggested.

“Bobby was a genius,” she said at once.

His mother’s criticism of Gina and her admiring tone when she spoke of Rinaldi, even after everything the man had done to her, made Rafe cringe. “Mother, are you anxious for me to find Rinaldi so we can put him behind bars, or are you hoping to resume your affair with him?”

“How can you even ask me such a thing?” she asked indignantly.

“Because I honestly want to know the answer,” he said. “I get this terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that you want the man back, even after everything he’s done.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He cheated me out of thousands of dollars. I wouldn’t take him back if he begged me to.”

“Glad to hear it,” Rafe said, though he wasn’t entirely certain he believed her.

“Now, tell me again why you’re in Wyoming. Bobby certainly wouldn’t go there. He hated anything primitive.”

“They do have hot and cold running water here, Mother.”

“You know what I mean. He was a sophisticated man.” She paused, then added thoughtfully, “But that little partner of his wasn’t. Is that it? Is Gina in Wyoming? Is she hiding out there?”

“Gina is not ‘hiding out,’ and she’s every bit as sophisticated as you or I,” Rafe said impatiently, aware the moment the words left his mouth that his mother would seize on them.

“Oh, dear,” she murmured. “She
is
there. You’re not being taken in by her, are you?”

“No more than you were by Rinaldi,” he said dryly.

“Rafe, darling, do be careful,” she said with a rare display of motherly concern.

“Believe me, Mother, in my profession, there are very few people I trust. And after growing up with your unpredictable serial marriages, there are even fewer women I trust.”

“Well, that’s okay, then,” she said, sounding pleased. Clearly she’d missed the barb directed at her role in his distrust. Rafe sighed at the realization that she was as self-absorbed as ever.

Only after he’d hung up did Rafe realize exactly how pitiful his words were and how very badly he wanted Gina Petrillo to be the person who broke the pattern.

“Gina, sweetie, the phone’s for you,” Gina’s mother called cheerfully after a tap on the bedroom door.

Gina groaned and rolled over, burying her head under the pillow. She had tossed and turned all night long, trying to escape the dream in which she was running endlessly after a shadow. Bobby’s, no doubt. Not even her subconscious would let her catch him, because apparently on
some innate level she knew that killing him was a bad idea.

“Gina, are you awake?” her mother called.

“Yes,” she finally admitted. “I’ll be right there.”

For one fleeting second she allowed herself to anticipate hearing Rafe’s voice on the other end of the line. She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her guard up around him. Nor was she having much luck with keeping her hormones in check. Dragging on her robe, she picked up her pace as she went into the hallway to grab the nearest phone.

“Hello, doll,” Bobby greeted her as if they’d parted only days before and on the very best of terms.

“Roberto Rinaldi, where the hell are you?” she demanded, shaking with indignation. “Do you have any idea what sort of a mess you’ve left behind for me to clean up? I have an attorney shadowing my every move. I believe you know his mother.”

“Not Rafe O’Donnell.”

“Bingo.”

“Sorry about that. Not to worry, though. I’ll get everything straightened out.”

“How? When?”

“Soon,” he assured her. “Gotta run, doll. I just wanted you to know to hang in there.”

“Bobby, don’t you dare hang up on me. Bobby! Dammit, Bobby!” She realized she was shouting at a dial tone and all but slammed the receiver back into the cradle. “Forget the consequences. If I ever get my hands on him, I’m going to kill him.”

She looked up and realized that her mother was studying her with a horrified expression.

“Into the kitchen,” her mother said quietly, but in a
tone that had always meant business. “I think it’s about time you told me what’s going on.”

Gina sighed and reluctantly trailed along behind her. She paused only long enough to pour herself a cup of coffee, then sat at the kitchen table. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s gone to work, thank goodness. If he had heard you just now, it would have sent his blood pressure into the stratosphere. Whatever’s going on, we’ll keep it between us for now. I don’t want your father upset. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure listening to you talk like that hasn’t shaken me a little bit, too.”

Her mother did look pale. Gina sought to reassure her. “It was just a figure of speech, Mother. I’m not going to kill anybody.”

“It didn’t sound that way to me. What has Bobby done? And does that have anything to do with what Rafe O’Donnell is doing here in Winding River?”

Gina slowly stirred two teaspoons of sugar into her coffee as she considered just how much to tell her mother. She finally settled on the whole truth. By the time she’d finished explaining all of the sordid details about Bobby’s scam, her mother was practically quivering with outrage.

“What an awful man!” her mother declared. “And that was him on the phone? If I’d had any idea, I would have given him a piece of my mind.”

Gina couldn’t help it. She grinned. “As impressive and daunting as I’ve always found your lectures to be, Mom, I doubt they would have had any effect at all on Bobby. He’s pretty much immune to criticism, and I doubt he has much of a conscience.”

“That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t hear exactly what I think of him. Taking money from all of those people…” She shook her head. “It’s a crime, that’s what it is.”

“Which is why Rafe is after him. And me, for that matter.”

“Surely Rafe doesn’t seriously think you could be involved,” her mother said, her indignation stirring all over again. “You are nothing like Bobby.”

“Thank you, but Rafe doesn’t know me as well as you do. He says he has an open mind. At the very least he’s hoping Bobby will contact me.”

“Which he has. You have to tell Rafe,” her mother said. “That will prove to him that you want this resolved as badly as he does.”

“What am I supposed to tell him?” Gina asked. “That Bobby called but wouldn’t say where he was?”

“That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but all it proves is that Bobby knows I’m in Wyoming and that we’re in touch,” Gina said, feeling despondent. She was not nearly as sure as her mother that Rafe wouldn’t take the news of Bobby’s call and somehow twist it to fit his own scenario, condemning her in the process.

“You have to tell Rafe,” her mother repeated. “Keeping it a secret will only make you look guilty if he finds out about the call later.” She gestured toward the phone. “Call him right now. That’s my advice.” She bent down and kissed Gina’s forehead. “I have to get going or I’ll be late. You have a good day. This will all work itself out, I promise. People like Bobby eventually get what’s coming to them.”

“I wish I shared your conviction about that,” Gina said, giving her mother a half-hearted smile. “But I will think about what you’ve said.”

If only her parents had caller ID, she thought, staring at the phone, but in this small, friendly community such high-tech equipment was viewed as both unnecessary and
in many ways impolite. No one saw any need to know who was calling before picking up the phone. Heck, half the people in town, her folks included, didn’t even own answering machines. People didn’t have the same desire for being connected twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week that they did in New York. There was a lot to be said for that attitude, but right now Gina regretted it.

When the phone rang, Gina jumped, then scowled at the offending instrument before picking it up.

“Yes,” she muttered curtly.

“You didn’t by any chance wake up on the wrong side of the bed, did you?” Rafe inquired cheerfully.

“Something like that,” she said.

“I know the feeling. My mother woke me out of a sound sleep, which would have been bad enough, but she also ruined a particularly fascinating dream.”

“Oh, really?”

“Just so you know, you were the star attraction.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Gina chided, even though the news was fascinating. “I thought we had agreed that there would be no more crossing the line.”

“Did we? My subconscious must have forgotten all about that. Now then, would I be risking my life if I suggested breakfast at Stella’s in twenty minutes? That’s not crossing the line, is it?”

Gina thought of Bobby’s call and her mother’s advice that she share that information with Rafe. “Actually, breakfast might be good. I’ll see you there. Make it thirty minutes, though. I’m only half-awake, and I usually don’t do mornings. It’ll take me a while to jump-start my brain.”

“I suppose saying that it’s not your brain that interests me would be a really bad idea,” Rafe teased.

Gina laughed, her mood improving considerably. “A really, really bad one,” she agreed. “See you soon.”

As it turned out, it took her closer to an hour to shower, dress and walk to Stella’s. Admittedly, she was deliberately dragging her feet. Every time she thought of Bobby’s call and his refusal to even admit where he was, she felt more and more despondent. By the time she got to Stella’s, she was crankier than ever. Finding that Rafe had finished reading the paper and was drumming his fingers on the table immediately put her on the defensive.

“I thought maybe you’d stood me up,” he said as she slid into the booth opposite him.

“I told you I’d be here, didn’t I?” she snapped before she could stop herself.

His expression turned thoughtful. “There’s that tone again. Did something happen this morning to get your day off to a rotten start?”

“You mean aside from your call?”

He winced but said gamely, “Yes, aside from that.”

Gina waited until Stella had poured her a cup of coffee and taken their orders before answering with the truth. “I heard from Bobby,” she admitted in a rush, before she could change her mind. She didn’t feel one bit better once the words were out.

Rafe nodded slowly. “I see. And what did he have to say?”

“Not much. He wouldn’t say where he was. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions. He just said everything was going to work out.”

“For whom?” Rafe asked. “I don’t imagine he was talking about the people he bilked out of their money.”

“No, I imagine not,” Gina agreed ruefully. “Anyway, I thought you should know, even though it doesn’t exactly give you any new information.”

“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell me about the call.”

She studied his face intently. “You don’t think I’m holding anything back, do you?”

“Are you?”

“No, that’s the whole story. The call didn’t last more than a minute.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “I wonder why. Does he suspect your phone could be tapped?”

“I doubt it,” Gina said. “Bobby never has been big on prolonged telephone calls. Ironically, in his own way I think he just wanted to reassure me.”