To Catch a Thief - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,29
pleaded. “Could we change the subject?”
“In a minute,” Emma promised. “First, I’d like to remind Mr. O’Donnell that sometimes the innocent need better representation than the guilty, especially if some shark is out to get them.” She regarded Rafe pointedly. “Watch your step, Mr. O’Donnell.”
Her gaze shifted to Gina. “Stay away from him,” she advised.
“I wish I could,” Gina told her.
“I’m crushed,” he said.
“Something tells me a freight train couldn’t crush your ego,” she retorted.
“Making judgments about me again?”
She shrugged. “I guess that makes us even, doesn’t it?”
He laughed and slid from the booth. “See you around, Gina.”
“I’m sure,” she said with a heartfelt sigh.
Somehow, though, in the last few minutes she had discovered that Rafe was far more complex and intriguing than she’d originally guessed. That made the prospect of bumping into him everywhere she turned a lot less daunting. She figured that was a very bad sign, given that the man wanted to lock her away.
Rafe assumed Gina wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. He had a feeling these friendly gabfests went on and on once the five women got together. Just in case he was wrong, he walked down the block, leaned against the bumper of his rental car and placed a call on his cell phone to the paralegal who was doing follow-up on the case back in New York.
“Have you been able to get into the bank records of Café Tuscany or Rinaldi or Petrillo yet?” he asked Joan Lansing.
“The judge is looking over the paperwork now,” Joan told him. “We should know something before the end of the day.”
“I need those records. We need to see if any withdrawals and deposits match up.”
“I know, boss. I think we made a good case to the judge, though, if you ask me, that money is in some offshore account by now, not in a personal checking account at the corner bank.”
Rafe sighed. “You’re probably right, but we need to know for certain.”
“Anything else I can do on this end?”
“Stay on that investigator. He should have found something on Rinaldi’s whereabouts by now.”
“Will do. No clues from Ms. Petrillo?”
“None. I’m actually beginning to believe she might not know anything, not about the con and not about Rinaldi’s disappearance.”
“How is that possible? They were partners.”
“We already know the man was a smooth operator. She could have been taken in by him, too.”
“Uh-oh, boss. I think I hear that knight on a white horse charging to the rescue.”
“Could be,” he conceded. “But please don’t tell Lydia. She’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
He glanced up just in time to see Gina and the other women emerging from Stella’s. They piled into Lauren’s fancy sports utility vehicle. Rafe got behind the wheel of his own rental car and started after them. His pulse began to pound when he realized they were heading straight for the small airstrip on the outskirts of town.
Sure enough, Lauren turned in, drove to a hangar operated by a charter company and parked. Blood boiling, Rafe stalked across the tarmac to intercept them.
“Going somewhere?” he asked Gina.
“You followed us?” she countered, her expression indignant.
“Of course I did. It’s a good thing, too. Are you planning on skipping town?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” Emma snapped. “There is nothing to prevent her from going anywhere, Mr. O’Donnell. Back off.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then you’ll have to charter your own plane, because you’re not getting on board with us,” Lauren snapped.
Rafe ignored them both and kept his gaze on Gina. “Why the sudden decision to run?”
“I’m not running anywhere.”
“Then why didn’t you mention this trip when we were talking?”
“It didn’t come up. Besides, Lauren was still working out the details. I didn’t know if we were going.”
“Going where?” he asked.
She frowned at him, but she answered with barely concealed impatience. “I am going to Denver with my friends because Cassie’s mother is having surgery. We want to be there to support her. It’s not a big deal. We’ll be back in a day or so, as soon as we know that everything’s okay.”
Rafe caught the unmistakable worry in her eyes, the hint of urgency in her voice. Because of his career, because of his mother’s short-term attention span with men, he was a cynical man. There weren’t a lot of people he trusted. Something told him he could trust Gina, at least about this.
Finally he nodded and stepped out of her path. “Don’t make me regret this,” he warned.
“I won’t,” she promised. Her lips curved into the beginnings