Chapter Sixteen
Using Rafe’s cell, Sara dialed the number and reached the older man immediately. “What’s wrong, Captain?”
“Your apartment was hit.”
A shiver rippled through her. “Was anything taken?” she asked. She covered the phone with her hand and mouthed the word burglary to Rafe.
“Nothing taken. Just a note lipsticked on a mirror that said stay away.”
She frowned at the warning. “Not very original.”
“No evidence it’s Morley, but who else would bother? Sounds like he’s more concerned with keeping you too afraid to testify than he is with hurting you, but you still need to be careful,” the older man said, his voice gravelly from too many cigarettes.
“I will,” she promised him. “Listen, Captain, Rafe and I have run into a…situation here. Can you do me a favor and run a history on two drug dealers who go by the name Biff and Todd?” She gave him a brief description of the situation and their attempt to get in touch with the DEA, and followed up with a sketch of Biff and Todd, knowing that they could have altered their appearance and/or their names.
The captain let out a long groan. “What part of keep a low profile don’t you understand, Rios?” She could imagine him running his hand over his bald head in frustration.
“I don’t find trouble, Captain. It’s been finding me.” She glanced at Rafe and grinned.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he muttered. “I’ll let you know what I find out. In the meantime, be careful and keep in touch.” After giving the order, he disconnected the line.
Sara hung up and met Rafe’s gaze. “He’s pissed.”
“I’m sure he is. Do they know who broke into your place?”
She shrugged. “Not who specifically, but they left me a message on my bathroom mirror, and it sounds like it was just another threat to scare me from testifying.”
“So either Morley’s guy from the dance has left Hidden Falls, or he’s got more than one boy doing his bidding.” Rafe strode over to the keypad on the wall by the front door and input the new alarm code. “Since we’re in for the night, might as well keep it set.”
She nodded.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m certainly not going to let threats and warnings stop me from doing my job. Besides, I’ll have protection going to and from the trial. It’s just a matter of getting through these next few weeks. And I have your uncle’s problems to keep my mind occupied.”
Rafe groaned. “You just had to remind me.”
Sara strode over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Pirro’s lucky to have you,” she said, staring into his sexy eyes.
He returned her gaze. “And I’m lucky to have you.” He pressed a light kiss on her lips and stepped back.
“I need to check in with Coop and see what was so urgent.” She used Rafe’s cell to make the next phone call. “No answer at home.” She left Coop a message and then dialed his cell. “And no luck there, either.” She left another message on his voice mail.
“At this point, there’s nothing more we can do on any front but wait for everyone to get in touch with us.”
Sara frowned. “I know you’re right, but I hate waiting. And I hate being idle when there are two live situations going on.”
Rafe sidled up beside her. “Then it’s a good thing I know exactly how to keep you busy passing time,” he said in a voice designed for seduction.
One she couldn’t resist.
The ringing of the doorbell woke Sara out of a sound sleep. She jumped out of bed. A cool chill immediately reminded her she was stark naked. Rafe was nowhere to be found, and she hoped he was answering the door.
By the time she pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and ran out of the room, she found Rafe and Coop sitting and talking in the den.
“What are you doing here?” Sara asked, shocked to realize he’d come all this way. “Who died?” she immediately asked.
“Ever the pessimist,” Rafe said.
Coop shook his head and laughed. “I see that hasn’t changed.”
“Then why are you here? I’m glad to see you, but nobody takes a five-hour ride just to say hello.” Her heart still beat hard in her chest from being woken from a deep sleep, and now, seeing Coop….
“Everything’s fine,” he assured her.
“Lexie?” she asked of his fiancée.
“Great. I swear. With the Bachelor Blogger publishing your whereabouts, I wanted to check on you.”
“And?” She pushed him, knowing there had to be more.
“I wanted to talk to you both.”
Rafe nodded. “Let’s go into the kitchen and sit down. I know Sara and I could use some coffee. What about you?” he asked Coop. “Besides coffee, there’s soda, orange juice, water and maybe some iced tea.”
“Coffee sounds good. The drive drained me.”
They shifted to the kitchen, a room with light wood and new appliances. Sara had enjoyed puttering around in here the other day. Now the sun shone through the windows, casting a cheery glow around the room.
Rafe must have been up when the doorbell rang, because the coffee was already freshly brewed and smelled delicious. Sara insisted on pouring everyone coffee and getting the milk.
When they were all settled around the table, she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Okay, what’s going on?” she asked Coop.
He exhaled a long breath. “Okay. I assume you know your apartment was broken into?”
Sara nodded. “The captain says it was related to the upcoming trial.”
“Do you know how the Bachelor Blog found out you were here?” he asked, switching subjects.
“My sister-in-law.” Rafe explained about Angel’s B and B and her reasons for calling the blog.
“Ahh.” Coop nodded in understanding. “That might help confirm my hunch,” he said, more to himself than to either Sara or Rafe.
“I don’t understand,” Sara said.
“Me, neither.”
“Okay, look, Amanda Stevens is the features editor at the paper where I work.”
“That’s who Angel said is coming here to interview her and feature the bed-and-breakfast,” Sara said.
Coop tilted his head in acknowledgment. “And don’t you think it’s a little odd, that first the unknown, anonymous blogger was contacted by Angel, then the blogger wrote about you staying at Angel’s B and B, and then suddenly Amanda is interested in featuring Angel’s?” Coop asked.
Sara shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m still not getting it.”
“I think Amanda is the Bachelor Blogger,” Coop said, surprising her.
“Couldn’t it just be that Amanda was following up on something she read in the blog when she decided to interview Angel?” Rafe asked.
Coop spread his hands in front of him. “Possible, but I know Amanda, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one spotlighting men and matchmaking all over the city.”
“How well do you know her?” Sara teased.
Coop shot her a look, warning her not to go there.
Sara laughed. “Okay, so you know her that well.”
Rafe cleared his throat. “You said you need to talk to us. So, what brings you here?”
Coop clasped his hand around the coffee mug. “Well, as Sara knows, I’ve been toying with the idea of leaving the newspaper and tackling my writing full-time. Lexie loves to travel, and I’ve saved enough to give myself a year to see whether doing it full-time can turn it into more of a career than a hobby.”
Which Sara knew was his dream. “But you also love reporting, so you’re torn.”
“I used to love reporting. Lately, it’s become more of a depressing grind than anything else. And with this Bachelor Blog being the major focus of the newspaper right now, it feels more like a tawdry rag than a weighty newspaper. Not to mention that the damned blog is screwing with a police witness.” He pointedly looked at Sara.
“We’re in agreement there,” Rafe said.
“All to keep the paper in the black. Look, I understand the economic realities for newspapers today, but profit at the expense of even one person’s public safety rubs me the wrong way. And if Amanda, who already worked at the paper, is also that blogger…” Coop shrugged. “It would change the blog from an acquired moneymaker into a deliberate ploy to take the paper toward the sensational just to make a buck. Either way, I want out. But I need to know first.”
“A reporter till the end, right?” Sara asked her friend.
Coop merely laughed. “Lexie’s agreed to let me write her grandmother’s story if I change the names to protect the innocent. That’ll give my next book a real-life edge.”
“Good for you!” Sara said, excited for him.
“So if this Amanda is the Bachelor Blogger, are you going to expose her?” Rafe asked.
Coop shook his head. “It’s something I need to know. I’m not out to ruin Amanda or her career, but it’ll definitely solidify my decision to leave now rather than later.”
“Makes sense to come up here to check it out, then,” Rafe said.
“Besides, it gave me a chance to make sure Sara was doing okay.”
“I’m a big girl,” she reminded her friend. “And I have protection.”
Coop’s inquiring stare shifted between Sara and Rafe.
No doubt he was wondering just what kind of protection Rafe was supplying, something Sara had no intention of getting into now.
“What’s your plan to uncover the truth about the blogger?” Rafe asked.
“It’s simple. Right now the blogs are vague tidbits of information. Things like, Our favorite duo are holed up alone in Rafe’s secluded abode. Will they grow tired of each other or will the proximity bring them closer? Could a proposal be next?” Coop mimicked the blog in a Masterpiece Theater-type tone.
Rafe laughed at the imitation.
“I want you two to display some extra-visible PDA around town, or at least around Amanda, and see if the blog posts turn more…specific and personal.” Coop leaned back in his seat. “Ingenious plan, if you ask me. So, can I count on you?” Coop asked them.
Sara glanced at Rafe, wondering how he’d feel about upping their romance quotient in public.
He rose from his seat and walked around to Sara, leaned down and pressed a long, lingering kiss on her cheek. His breath was warm, his lips hot, and her entire body reacted to the simple gesture. She hoped neither man noticed that her nipples puckered beneath her thin T-shirt.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Coop said, his eyes taking in the implications of that kiss. “So, want to take me over and introduce me to your sister-in-law, Angel?”
“Sure,” Rafe said. “I’ll give my brother a call and see if he can meet us there. I need to talk to him anyway.”
“Isn’t he at work?” Sara asked.
Rafe nodded. “But with Biff and Todd out of the B and B, Angel told him she didn’t need a bodyguard and is trying to get him to leave, too. I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance to see her.”
Before he could call his brother, Rafe’s cell phone rang.
He glanced at the number and tossed it to Sara. “I don’t recognize the number. It must be for you.”
Uncle Jack, she hoped. She glanced at the incoming number and nodded. Apparently, the fun was about to begin, and swiped to answer.
“Uncle Jack!” As she spoke, she walked away from Rafe and Coop to give herself some privacy to explain the situation to her uncle.
“Hello, princess! How are you?” His big voice boomed in her ear, reminding her how much she’d looked forward to his visits when she was younger. He’d bring her things from around the world, and Sara used to think he was just a world traveler—until she was old enough to understand what a DEA agent did for a living.
She turned her attention back to the call. “I’m great, thanks. How are you?”
“Say that louder. My hearing-aid battery’s dead, and I can’t hear a damned thing,” Uncle Jack yelled into Sara’s ear although she’d had no problem hearing him before.
She shook her head and laughed. Extreme hearing loss caused by an explosion had forced Uncle Jack into retirement. He hated the hearing aids and always claimed the damned things were broken or the batteries dead as an excuse not to wear them. Uncle Jack was vain and thought the device killed his chances with the ladies.
And forcing them to yell at him wouldn’t? Sara thought wryly. “I said, I’m great, thanks!” she shouted into the phone.
“Don’t lie to me, princess. Your father told me you have a busted knee. But we’ll discuss your future another time. Your message said you needed my help.”
“I do. I mean, I do!” She remembered to speak louder.
She had to raise her voice and repeat herself until Uncle Jack heard her, but eventually, she’d explained Pirro’s situation and the sting idea she and Rafe had come up with as a solution.
Uncle Jack promised to have a DEA agent contact her as soon as possible, and in return, she promised to visit him when she returned to the city so they could catch up.
She disconnected the call and returned to the two men in the family room.
“He’s on it,” Sara said to Rafe.
Coop stepped toward her. “Let me get this straight. Rafe’s uncle is being threatened by drug dealers, and you two plan to get a DEA agent in here to pretend to sell them drugs?” he asked excitedly as his reporter’s instincts took over and he smelled a big story.
He’d miss this when he retired. She hoped he could find another way to get the excitement and adrenaline rush when he left his job behind. Almost immediately, she realized she might as well be talking about herself.
She shivered and pushed the thought away. She had more important things to concentrate on now.
“That’s right,” Sara told Coop. “And as far as you’re concerned, it’s off the record,” she informed him, wagging her finger in front of his face for emphasis.
Coop folded his arms across his chest. “Come on, Sara. That’s a huge story you’re asking me to suppress. Give me some incentive beyond our friendship to keep quiet.”
Sara knew he was only partially kidding. The journalist who knew a good scoop when he heard one wanted in.
She glanced at Rafe, whose expression had darkened. He looked ready to strangle Sara’s best friend. She placed a calming hand on Rafe’s arm, silently asking him to relax. From the minute she’d had to start yelling in order for her uncle to hear, she’d known she would be letting Coop in on what was going down. But Sara would trust Coop with her life. Or in this case, Rafe’s uncle’s life.
She felt certain the feds would give Pirro immunity in exchange for his help capturing the higher-ups in a New York City drug ring, but they hadn’t even met with the DEA yet. There were no guarantees. And Rafe didn’t want his uncle’s dealing in drugs exposed to the world.
She pivoted and faced Coop. “When the sting is over, we’ll give you an exclusive. You’ll be the first to run the story that includes interviews with all parties, and you’ll see that Pirro is just a man who tried to help out his friends and ended up caught in an impossible situation.”
Coop narrowed his gaze. “I tell the truth in my reporting,” he warned Sara.
“I knew this was a bad idea as soon as you said it,” Rafe muttered.
Sara shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Because when Pirro tells his story to Coop, he’ll get that truth.”
“I still don’t know about this,” Rafe said, his defenses understandably high.
“Well, I do.”
Rafe didn’t know Coop as well as she did. “Trust me, this is a win-win situation for all of us. Coop gets the exclusive and puts out the information by which all other reporters will get their content. It will work in Pirro’s favor, I promise.”
Rafe turned toward Coop. “If you meet Pirro and agree with how naive he really is, do you promise not to portray him as some upstate drug dealer with no conscience? I admit I’m biased, but I’m also a cop, and the man was supplying Viagra to his friends so they could enjoy their…uh…l-love lives,” Rafe stammered, searching a tasteful way to explain.
Sara willed Coop to agree. “Well?”
He strode over to Rafe. “Deal,” he said, extending his hand.
Rafe’s gaze darted from Coop to Sara, and though she knew Rafe was wary, he finally inclined his head and grasped Coop’s hand. “Deal.”
A wary truce had been declared.
By giving Coop a dream story, Sara had gotten them a modicum of control over how Pirro was portrayed in the news. Something they’d lose if another paper reported the story first. And she knew as well as Rafe did that a drug bust like this would be big news.
Now all that remained was for them to meet the DEA agent sent by her uncle Jack and hope all went as smoothly with the government agent.
It would also help their cause if Pirro proved capable of handling an undercover sting operation without panicking, or they were all in deep trouble.
Rafe drove to Angel’s. He didn’t know much about the man in the backseat except that Sam Cooper was involved with a woman Sara liked a lot, and that Sara trusted him implicitly.
Sara didn’t extend her faith in people easily, so if she believed in him, Rafe would do his best to do the same. He had no choice. His uncle’s future—his entire family’s future—was at stake.
“So, Coop, where are you staying?”
“I was hoping to get a room at Angel’s.”
Sara turned and faced Coop in the back. “Those rooms will be occupied by Amanda Stevens and her photographer. But if you could get a room at the Hilton where Biff and Todd are staying, maybe you could keep a subtle eye on them?”
“Works for me.” Coop pulled out his phone, called information and was soon confirming a reservation with the concierge at the hotel. “All set,” Coop said as he disconnected the call.
Rafe nodded. “Good. After we’re finished at Angel’s, I’ll take you back to my place for your car, and you can follow me to the hotel.”
“Thanks,” Coop said.
“This is it.” Rafe parked on the street in front of the bed-and-breakfast, and they all climbed out.
Nick’s car was in the driveway.
They reached the front door, which as usual during the day was unlocked. Rafe rang the bell and let them all inside. He was about to call for Angel when he heard arguing in the kitchen.
He met Sara’s concerned gaze. “You and Coop stay here. I’ll let them know we have company.”
Rafe headed for the kitchen and entered without knocking first. “Hey, are you two looking to scare away guests?”
Angel turned his way, hands perched on her hips, fire in her dark eyes. “Would you please tell your brother that he no longer needs to stay here? Biff and Todd have moved into a hotel, and the only guests here will be from the newspaper in New York. Not someone who was here during the festival. I’m perfectly safe.”
Nick shot Rafe a pleading look. Luckily for his brother, Rafe had no choice but to take his side. “Angel, Nick does need to be here.”
“Why?”
Rafe thought of and discarded a bunch of reasons that didn’t involve him revealing her father was involved with drug dealers.
He finally settled on the one he thought she’d find the most believable. “They haven’t caught whoever’s after Sara yet, which means whoever she’s close to is in potential danger. Look at what happened to your booth. You don’t want to risk someone breaking in here to send a message to Sara, and you being alone and caught off guard.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again.
Nick wisely remained silent.
“Fine. He can stay.” She turned around and walked up the back stairs that led to the upstairs bedrooms.
“What’s got her so worked up?” Rafe asked.
Nick groaned. “Our first marriage-counselor appointment is in a couple of hours. I think it’s clicking that she’s going to need to talk and open up. And she resents me for putting her in that position.”
“Well, then. I’d say you’re making progress.” Rafe slapped his brother on the back. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Nick said wryly.
“I take it the newspeople aren’t here yet?”
He shook his head. “Angel got a call saying they’d arrive around dinnertime.”
“Okay. Well, I had someone from the city I wanted her to meet, but all things considered, I think it can wait.”
“Who?”
“Another news guy. He’s Sara’s neighbor, and he’s here playing a hunch.”
Nick rolled his shoulders. “Whatever that means. Look, I’m going to see if Angel’s okay and make sure she’s calm before this appointment.”
Rafe nodded. “Stay close to her,” he warned his brother.
“I will,” Nick said, but Rafe caught the curious look aimed his way.
Rafe wasn’t about to get into details about Angel’s father, Viagra, drug deals and the DEA. Even if he wanted to fill his brother in, there was every chance Nick might not believe the story, anyway.
“Good luck at the marriage counselor’s,” Rafe said, heading back to where Sara and Coop waited in the front hall.
“And good luck to you with whatever you’re involved in,” Nick shot back.
“Thanks.” Because they would definitely need all the luck they could get.