Love Me if You Dare (18 page)

Rafe glanced at his watch. “It’s almost time to go anyway, so I’ll give him a last-minute pep talk. Excuse me.” He started toward the older man, then turned back to Sara and placed a long, lingering kiss on her lips.

A long, long kiss, she thought, winding her arms
around his neck and reciprocating until he broke off contact and walked away.

“He’s really into the role,” Sara said, laughing even as she was aware of the tingling that aroused her straight down to her toes.

Coop shook his head. “He’s not playing, Sara. The man’s crazy about you.”

“And I’m not discussing this here and now. Answer a question for me instead.”

Coop frowned at her cavalier dismissal of the subject. “Fine. Shoot.”

“Why would a beautiful woman with a fabulous editorial career turn to sensational journalism for a story?” she asked of Amanda, the probable writer of the infamous Bachelor Blog.

“Because she believes in love, fairy-tale endings and happily ever after. Even if she still hasn’t found it for herself just yet, she believes it’s out there.”

“Next thing I know you’ll be saying she also believes in unicorns and the tooth fairy,” Sara said with a grimace.

“You never know. She is playing Cupid.”

Sara studied the woman, who spoke animatedly, waving her hands as she made her point to both her photographer and Angel. “So she really believes she’s doing a service with this blog.”

Coop nodded. “I believe she does.”

“Then maybe the solution is as simple as informing her she isn’t.”

“Huh.” Coop glanced at the other woman.

“If she’s rational, reasonable and has ethics, she might listen to you.”

“Your captain already appealed to the editor in chief and came back with a no,” Coop reminded her.

“Then appeal to her as a friend. Use your persuasive skills. It’s certainly worth a try.”

From across the room, Rafe gestured toward Sara. “Time to go,” she told Coop.

She shivered, wondering if she’d ever be ready for this sting. She’d never worked a job with so many personal elements involved. She wanted to wish Pirro luck before he began his role.

And she prayed everything went off without a hitch.

E
ARLIER TODAY
, Pirro had driven to the Hilton to inform the two drug dealers that he’d made contact and his dealer was eager to get together with them tonight.

Agent Lopez had wired Pirro, then instructed him to follow his normal routine to the meet, so he drove alone in his car to the farthest stretch of land on the edge of town and parked beneath a thicket of trees. Behind him were a series of old abandoned tunnels,
which used to run between the United States and Canada. Years ago, the state police had detonated explosives, causing the tunnels to cave in on themselves, making them impassable in either direction and ending an illegal drug trade. Pirro had originally picked this location because it was far from town and remote enough that no one would stop by and no local cops would canvas the area.

Ironically, Pirro had chosen to meet his dealer near the tunnels, never once considering that he was engaging in the same illegal act. All he’d wanted to do was make his friends as happy in bed as he was. And look where that had gotten him, he thought as he nervously paced the dirt-packed ground and waited for the drug dealers to show.

“Calm down and stop pacing. You’re making me nervous,” the DEA agent waiting alongside him said.

“Where are Rafe and Sara?” he asked, his gaze darting around the dark night.

“We’re here!” they both called out in hushed tones from their position behind the bushes. Earpieces enabled them to hear everything.

Backup, they’d explained to him.

“Are you satisfied?” Agent Lopez asked. “Now, like I said, you need to relax.”

Pirro stopped in his tracks. “I’m sorry, Agent Lopez. I’m just nervous.”

The other man placed his hand on Pirro’s shoulder. “Remember what I told you. Stop calling me
Agent
Lopez, and act normally or this will never work,” he said in a low whisper.

The sound of a car driving over the unpaved road announced Biff and Todd’s arrival.

“Oh, my God. They’re here. Oh, my God.” Pirro’s stomach churned. Nausea overcame him. “I’m going to be sick,” he muttered aloud.

“Pull yourself together!” Agent Lopez ordered. “Here they come. Now, act normally, introduce us and I’ll handle the rest.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Pirro hissed.

Agent Lopez had no time to reply.

Biff and Todd strode up to them, briefcase in hand. If Pirro didn’t know better, he’d think they were two college kids on their way to school. Unfortunately, he did know better. They were drug dealers, arsonists, and he was about to screw them over.

Pirro knew he was supposed to perform the introductions. Instead, he leaned over and threw up all over Biff’s expensive leather shoes.

Or maybe they were Todd’s.

S
ARA AND
R
AFE KNELT
in the bushes, guns drawn and ready. Just in case. Earpieces enabled them to hear the discussion a few feet in front of them, and from what Sara could tell, Pirro had just puked.

“On my shoes! Man, what’s wrong with you?” Todd yelled.

“Gross.” This from Biff. Sara recognized their different voices.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous,” Pirro said.

Rafe met Sara’s gaze and winced.

She placed her finger over his lips in a silent
shh.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Todd muttered.

“This is A—Lopez,” Pirro said, quickly catching his mistake.

Sara let out a long breath.

“I’m Biff, and the one with puke on his shoes is Todd.”

“A. Lopez.”

“What happened, your parents couldn’t think of a first name?” Biff laughed.

“He’s making fun of my name? Where’d yours get Biff? Wasps ’R’ Us?” Agent Lopez shot back.

The man brilliantly deflected. Sara stifled a laugh. From the look in Rafe’s eyes, he was doing the same.

They trained their gazes—and guns—back on their targets.

“Pirro here says you can get us the goods?” Biff asked.

Lopez needed them to talk specifics, and he couldn’t mention drugs or do anything that would smack of entrapment.

“Depends on what you want.”

“Oxy to start. If the quality is good, we’ll go from there. Do you have any on you?” Biff asked.

Lopez had the pills in a brown paper bag, and Sara heard the crinkling of paper.

“Looks good to me,” Todd said.

“How much?” Biff asked.

“Forty-five grand for one hundred pills.” Some more crinkling of paper.

“That’s small potatoes. If our boss likes the quality, we plan to use his trucks to transport a hell of a lot more for distribution in the city,” Todd said. “Can you handle the demand?” he asked Lopez.

“Of course.”

Sara heard the crinkling of paper again.

“Where are you going with that?” Biff asked.

“I thought you said it wasn’t enough,” Lopez said.

“It’s a start. We’ll take it, our boss will test it and we’ll be in touch for more. Here.”

Sara envisioned Todd giving Agent Lopez the money.

The crackling of paper told her Biff had snatched the drugs.

“Freeze!”

At the sound of Lopez’s voice snapping out the command, Sara and Rafe pounced, surrounding the two men.

Sara’s knee popped under the strain of kneeling for too long, but she held her position, gun trained on Biff and Todd.

Pirro had long since dropped to the ground, crying in relief.

As Lopez read Biff and Todd their rights, Rafe and Sara cuffed the two men.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, a successful operation from beginning to end except for the painful certainty that Sara wouldn’t pass the rigorous exam necessary for her to return to active duty at the NYPD.

F
OLLOWING THE BUST
, Coop was given his promised interview and was free to run the story after Agent Lopez vetted the information Pirro had given
to make sure their case didn’t suffer from the older man’s embellishing.

Rafe and Sara finally arrived back at his place. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Rafe muttered.

“Wiped out.” She collapsed, propping her leg on the arm of the nearest couch.

Eyeing her in concern, he headed for the kitchen, returning with an army of supplies, which he deposited on the table. “Scoot over.”

With an adorable smile, she wiggled herself closer to the couch, making room so he could sit beside her.

“Here.” He first handed her ibuprofen for the pain and obvious swelling, which she gratefully accepted.

“Thank you,” she said, swallowing the pills with the glass of water he also gave her.

“You’re welcome. Now, ice.” He held out an ice pack. “Want me to do it for you?”

She nodded.

He placed the ice pack on her knee, wrapping it around to cover as much of the swelling as possible. He tried to be careful and not put too much pressure on the already sore joint.

She winced at the initial contact.

“Cold or pain?” he asked.

“Both.”

He felt her pain directly in his heart. Rafe knew Sara was tough. She could handle physical discomfort and wouldn’t fight the medical necessities. It was the emotional turmoil that was so much harder, eating away at her day by day. More so now that she’d obviously seen how difficult fieldwork would be, especially in a place like Manhattan where the physical requirements to return might be more than her knee could handle.

He was smart enough not to mention it now. Instead, he sat with her in silence and waited twenty minutes for the ice to do its thing. Then he rose, held out a hand and helped her to the bedroom, where they could both stretch out. Once in bed, she curled into him, relaxed and immediately fell fast asleep.

She obviously felt safe with him. Trusted him when she was weak. If pressed, he’d say she loved him in her own way—which would be enough for him if he wasn’t always waiting for the end
she
believed was inevitable.

R
AFE AWOKE
feeling refreshed, considering he’d fallen into a deep sleep with his arms around Sara for the better part of the night. He didn’t think he’d rolled or shifted positions once. Since she was still out cold, he headed for the kitchen. After making coffee, he sat and drank his liquid caffeine. Though he tried to scan the newspaper, the phone began ringing nonstop.
Family members wanted to talk about Pirro’s role in last night’s bust, and the slant they had on the story shocked even Rafe.

Pirro became an overnight hero and legend in his own mind. Apparently, he told the family he’d been an undercover police informant all along in order to catch big-time drug dealers in New York. And since Agent Lopez had left town along with his prisoners, Biff and Todd, there was nobody to dispute Pirro’s version, at least until Coop’s story broke in the
Daily Post.

Except for Sara and Rafe.

And they weren’t talking.

If Pirro wanted to bask in the limelight, who was Rafe to steal his glory? Especially since Pirro had promised to get his Viagra legally from now on, and to never supply his friends again. Agent Lopez called to tell Rafe that Biff and Todd had panicked in lockup and had immediately named names in order to cut a deal.

With the stress of the drug dealer off his plate and his aunt’s marriage back on track, that left Rafe with the outstanding threat to Sara’s safety as his sole concern. But even the captain seemed convinced John Morley wanted to scare her and keep her from testifying, not harm her and add another murder to his long list of charges.

Even so, Rafe wasn’t taking any chances. He
planned to stay by Sara’s side, a strategy that had already played into Coop’s agenda. With their public display of affection at Angel’s last night, this morning’s Bachelor Blog had proven Coop’s hunch. Because only someone in the room could have reported today’s blog contents—up-close-and-personal coverage of Rafe and Sara’s evening prior to the bust.

Below the text, the blog featured a photograph of Rafe’s hand slipped into the back pocket of Sara’s jeans,
copping a feel.

He groaned and tossed down the paper. “Whatever happened to the concept of privacy?” he muttered.

“Coop did ask us to play things up,” Sara reminded him, joining him at the kitchen table. “Want me to freshen it up?” She gestured to his coffee cup with the carafe in her hand.

He nodded. “Thanks.”

She refilled his cup and sat down with her own. “So Coop was right? Amanda is the Bachelor Blogger?”

“Unless someone else at the party reported in. I only saw her photographer snapping pictures.”

Sara took a long sip of coffee before answering. “Seems pretty careless for someone who wants to keep her anonymity, if you ask me.”

He couldn’t help but stare. She was here, and he was grateful. And though he wondered how much longer
this
could last, and knew he had little or no control over the answer, he refused to dwell on the negative. He might as well enjoy what he had now. While he still had it.

“I agree with you. It’s careless. But maybe Amanda figures we’ll never question who sent it in. It could have been anyone on their cell phone last night,” he said, trying to put himself in the blogger’s shoes.

“And maybe she doesn’t care if Coop figures out it’s her because he also works for the same paper?” Sara pursed her lips in thought.

“Could be.”

“How’s your knee?” he asked, glancing at the brace she’d put on again this morning.

“I’m hanging in.”

He nodded and changed the subject. “So, what’s on our agenda for today?” He glanced at the sun streaming through the kitchen window. “How about we go out on the boat?”

A slow smile touched her lips. “Can we do the same thing we did last time we were on the boat?” she asked, her smile turning naughty.

“We sure can.” He still had vivid dreams about making love to her on deck. His jeans grew tight at the thought.

He rose from his seat. Grabbing both mugs, he carried them to the sink, rinsed and set them on the rack to dry.

Then he walked over to where Sara stood and pulled her into his arms. “Have I mentioned that I’m glad you came here for protection?” He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet scent.

“I don’t think you’ve mentioned it,” she murmured.

“Well, I’m telling you now.” And on the boat, under the sun, he’d show her just how glad he really was.

Over and over again.

S
ARA WAS BEGINNING
to hate the telephone. For as long as she’d been in Hidden Falls, the phone had
been the bearer of bad news. Today was no different. No sooner had they packed up food supplies for the boat, when Rafe’s cell phone rang.

They stared at each other for a long time before he finally gave in and glanced at the incoming number.

With a groan, he hit the send button. “Hey, Captain. What’s up?”

Sara came up beside Rafe and waited as he listened to her superior.

“Uh-huh. Yep. I understand. I’ll let her know.” Rafe hung up the phone and turned to face her. “Morley’s making noises from his jail cell about how his lawyer is working on another bail hearing.”

Sara made a face. “So? No judge in his right mind will let that man out on bail.”

“The D.A. wants to make sure of that, so she’s filing a motion for an expedited hearing on the charges. If Morley’s willing to waive a jury trial, you may be heading home sooner than we thought.”

Sara’s heart sank. She wasn’t ready to leave this place just yet.

Or leave Rafe behind.

With a sigh, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim shorts. “When?”

“They’ll let you know as soon as they do. But the captain said to tell you they’ll arrange for police transport to and from the courthouse.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Come on. You just called me a
surprise
witness. Morley won’t know when to expect me.”

“Precautions wouldn’t hurt,” Rafe reminded her.

“Okay, an escort is fine.” But she refused to dwell on something that hadn’t happened yet. “Now, can we leave before someone else calls and further kills the mood?” She picked up the shopping bag full of sandwiches.

He grabbed the cooler they’d loaded with soda, water and ice.

Sunshine and the soothing bobbing of the boat beckoned to her. Not to mention time alone with Rafe to do whatever they wanted to beneath the midday sun.

“Race you to the car,” Sara teased. She darted around him, grabbed the door handle.

And bumped right into Coop, who was about to ring the doorbell.

“Nooo!” Sara said, seeing her boat trip evaporate before her eyes.

“Nice greeting.” Coop eyed their package-laden hands. “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?”

“Yes!” Sara said.

“Is it important?” Rafe asked.

“Unfortunately, it is.” Coop looked sheepish, but firm.

Sara groaned.

Rafe shot her a look lit by disappointment of his own. “It’s okay. We can go on the boat later. Come on in,” Rafe said to Coop with a lot more graciousness than Sara was feeling.

But she knew Coop was only here for a short time, and if he was here, it must be important.

“Come in,” she said, pushing aside her disappointment, but shooting Rafe a look that warned him she’d hold him to their speedboat ride.

“What’s going on?” Rafe asked Coop.

“I’ve been thinking about something Sara said the other day. About how if Amanda really believes she’s doing a service with the blog, maybe she’d stop if she discovered she wasn’t.”

“What’s wrong? You couldn’t pinpoint her as the source of today’s blog?” Sara asked.

Coop frowned. “Pretty much. I’m sure you realized the same thing when you read it this morning.”

Sara nodded. “We had this discussion earlier. Any of Angel’s friends could have seen Rafe tuck his hand into my pants pocket.”

“And the photo? Could have been anyone discreetly using a cell phone, her photographer included,” Rafe added.

“Exactly. But I still believe she’s the blogger. So I want the three of us to appeal to Amanda’s human side to stop plugging your every move, because she’s putting you in danger,” Coop explained. “I know
Amanda, and I have to believe we can get through to her.”

Rafe shook his head. “Isn’t that—”

Coop held up a hand, halting Rafe midthought. “Before you call me idealistic or naive, Sara knows I’m anything but. I just don’t want to waste time playing a game with her when the truth could protect you faster.”