Silver Sparks Page 6

  “Jesus, buddy, back off.” But instead of looking scared and retreating, Grady leaned forward. “Pushed your buttons, huh? I suggest you learn to control that reaction, or you’ll be their next big headline instead of a mildly interesting sidebar.”

  Cal curled his fist around his chair instead of smashing it into Grady’s face, and forced himself to take several deep breaths. Rick Grady might have sold his soul to whatever tabloid he worked for, but he was right. Despite his best instincts, Maggie Larkin had gotten under Cal’s skin. She was impulsive, bossy, and a giant pain in the ass, and defending her was distracting him from his main objective. He should be thinking of Julie.

  But he couldn’t stand by and watch Rafe De Luca and the tabloids rip Maggie to shreds. If he had to take them on one by one, he would. He stood, looming over the reporter and forcing him back in his chair. “Listen, asshole, if you write one word that isn’t true—”

  Grady held up both hands. “I’m not writing anything. I’m not interested in the lady.”

  Cal frowned. The guy looked sincere, but you could never tell with his species. They’d rat out their own mothers for a good story. “Then what the hell are you doing?”

  “Looking to burn Rafe De Luca’s sorry ass. Without collateral damage—that means I don’t care about you and your girlfriend.”

  “Right. You just happened to be eating here while keeping an eye on the Lost Canyon Lodge, where I just happen to be staying.”

  “I eat here because I like the prices. And I’m watching the blue car over there, same as you. That’s Rob Ventner with The Hollywood Scene. If he’s still there when we’re done talking, I’ll get rid of him for you.”

  Cal eased back, more puzzled now than angry. Grady pointed at the chair across from him. “Have a seat. I think we might be able to help each other out.”

  Chapter

  Four

  Cal didn’t see how a reporter could help him, but Grady obviously wasn’t the typical tabloid stringer. Not unless he was lying about not being interested in him or Maggie, and Cal didn’t think he was. He pulled out the chair across the table and sat. “Who do you work for, and what makes you think you can help me?” he asked.

  “I don’t work for anyone. I freelance. Mostly I do articles for online news sites.” His superior look revealed what he thought of the tabloid reporters. “But about a year ago I happened to be in the right place at the right time, and I took a picture of Rafe De Luca arguing with a woman—a girl, really, about sixteen—outside a club in Acapulco. No one else was there, I was the only one who caught it. I sold it to a tabloid for fifty thousand dollars.”

  “Holy shit.” No wonder those photographers were on De Luca like leeches.

  “No kidding. That was way more than I made on my articles that year. And I only took the picture because two seconds before that I saw Rafe hit her. He looked like he was going to do it again, and if I couldn’t scare him off I wanted to at least document it.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Cal muttered. He gave Rick a hard look, noting the decently muscled build and flat stomach. The guy was no wimpy pencil pusher. “Why the hell didn’t you do more than take a picture? He was abusing a girl. You look like you could handle yourself in a fight.”

  “I was in a parking lot, separated from them by a chain-link fence. But I yelled, and he saw the flash from the camera. That was enough to stop him. Caught him with his arm raised and a look of desperate fear on the girl’s face.”

  Cal raised his eyebrows. “I remember that picture. It caused a brief stir, but he explained it, and the girl backed him up. Something about practicing a scene for a TV show.”

  “At two a.m. behind a Mexican nightclub?” Grady gave a derisive snort. “He bought her off.”

  Cal grunted, not surprised. But the story was nothing without proof. “You know that for sure?”

  “Sure as I could get. I tracked the girl’s family to a little run-down apartment across town, but I couldn’t talk to them. They’d moved away. Left town the day before in their brand-new pickup truck, the neighbors said.”

  Cal believed it. But that didn’t mean he trusted Rick Grady. Gesturing at the camera and zoom lens on the chair between them, he said, “So you moonlight now as a tabloid photographer to pay the bills?” For that kind of money he could hardly blame him, but he still found it distasteful.

  “Not exactly.” Rick fiddled with his water glass, his expression grim. “I’m hoping to catch him in another act of abuse. I heard in Mexico he likes his girls underage, and he’s not gentle.”

  Cal bit back a string of curses only because he was conscious of the two young kids dining with their parents a few tables away. He wasn’t surprised at Rafe’s behavior, but it still infuriated him to hear it. Worse, horrible possibilities started playing in his head, making him wonder if Julie had gone through the same sort of abuse. Or maybe she’d been a willing participant until things got rougher, or more degrading. Images he didn’t want flashed to life in his mind, nightmare scenarios of what Rafe might have done to Julie before the final, outrageous assault on her young body.

  “I thought you should know what you’re dealing with,” Rick said, “since your girlfriend crossed him and he looks mad enough to kill her.”

  Cal gave him a sharp look. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  Rick looked confused. “Sorry, I just assumed, since you rescued her like that . . . or did they exaggerate?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “No. It was a train wreck—I saw it coming and I couldn’t stop it, and couldn’t look away. Couldn’t leave her to handle Rafe on her own either, especially after she made it worse by charging back in to shake her fist at that hulking idiot bodyguard of De Luca’s. Crazy woman.”

  Rick chuckled. “I thought it was great. Dangerous as hell, but great.”

  The problem was, somewhere deep inside, so did Cal. He admired Maggie for not backing down, for not letting Rafe use her. But it didn’t outweigh his fear for her, and for the rage she aggravated further every time she defied Rafe. He’d seen what that bold approach to life could do. It didn’t always turn out well.

  “How do you figure you can help me?” he asked.

  The determined look on Rick’s face was the same one he’d seen on Maggie’s. “I’m going to nail the bastard. He’s obviously unstable if he’s pushed too far, and it’s bound to happen again. I intend to be there when it does.”

  “So you can get a picture and another big check?”

  “No.” Rick looked annoyed. “So I can expose him for what he is. Sure, I’ll take the money. But the guy’s got women throwing themselves at him, and they have no idea how dangerous he is. I know his type and I can guarantee that someday he’ll take it too far.”

  Finally, someone else who realized the truth. He gave Rick a hard look, and decided to trust him. “He already has.”

  Rick grew still and Cal could sense the man’s journalistic instincts going on high alert. “What do you mean? Did he do something to Maggie?”

  Cal noted the barely leashed tension—Rick wanted to bring Rafe down as badly as Cal did. He still wasn’t sure if it was a passion for justice or simply lust for a juicy story, but maybe it didn’t matter. He also recalled where he’d heard Rick’s name before. They might be able to help each other in more ways than one. “Let me ask you something first. Have you ever done any investigative pieces, the deep-background type of exposé?”

  “I did one on a police chief involved in a bribery scandal. Why?”

  Cal allowed a smile of satisfaction. The article had been sensational, but gutsy and true, and he’d noted the reporter’s name. “Because you’re right about De Luca. And if you’re looking for another big scoop, I have a personal connection to a story that might interest you.”

  Maggie had assured Zoe that the media attention didn’t bother her. She’d lied. Her sister bought it for only one day. By Monday evening she insisted on coming over.

  Zoe stepped inside the house,
took Maggie by the shoulders, and searched her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  Maggie smiled, washed by a warm wave of affection for her sister. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to hear someone ask that. Nodding, she pulled Zoe into a quick hug. “I am now. Thanks for asking, it’s been brutal. And Zoe, I’m so sorry if they’ve dragged you into it, too.”

  “They haven’t. At least, nothing more than reciting some old news to prove you come from a degenerate family. They can’t hurt me with what this town already knows and has discussed to death. I’ve been squeaky clean for years, which translates to boring. But the way they’re ripping into you . . . I saw the stories. Brutal is the right word. It’s like they want to hurt you.”

  “They do. From what Rafe implied, his family can control some of the stories. He threatened to make my life miserable.” She led Zoe to the living room and dropped onto the couch, glad to finally be off her feet. “A couple friends said they tried to tell reporters that I wasn’t anything like what those articles said, but they weren’t interested in printing it.” She gave her sister a grateful look. “It’s nice to know I have some support. But you shouldn’t have bought those horrid papers. I resent every dime they’ll make from shredding my private life to ribbons.”

  “I didn’t buy a paper,” Zoe said, sitting beside her. “I read it online.”

  A weak feeling hit her stomach. “I’m on the Internet?”

  Zoe looked apologetic. “Just the entertainment sites.” She winced as she added, “With links.”

  “Great. The gossip section, which is probably what pops up as soon as you turn your computer on.”

  “Well, no, you were after the president’s trip to Europe and that airplane accident. . . .” Her voice trailed off at her sister’s annoyed look.

  Maggie sighed. There was no point in being the only one who hadn’t read it. “What did they say? Was I vilified for being a bar bimbo, or was it about my supposed criminal past? Or maybe they speculated about the mystery man in my love triangle with Rafe?”

  “Uh, no, actually the one I read was about your loose morals and how you go through men like candy. They got a few quotes from some guys you dated, or so they claimed.” She frowned. “I didn’t recognize the names.”

  Maggie’s muscles coiled inward as if she’d taken a punch in the stomach. “You’re kidding. Someone I dated told the press I had loose morals?” Not that she’d always been as discriminating as she should have been in choosing her dates, but it still felt like a betrayal to know that one of them had talked to the tabloids about her. Grabbing her laptop off the coffee table, she shoved it toward Zoe and demanded, “Show me. Find the article. I want to see who said that.”

  Zoe obediently tapped keys and pulled up the article, then turned the computer toward Maggie. Large headlines read, “Rafe’s Accuser Has Questionable Past.”

  “Accuser,” Maggie muttered. “I’d love to give that witless wonder some real accusations to deal with.” Then she began reading.

  It was worse than Zoe had said. “Will Brenton? I never even went out with Will Brenton! And he has the nerve to say I’m an easy lay!” She burned Zoe with a blazing stare. “Did you read this whole thing? This is outrageous! Mitch Rutkowski says I probably slept with half the senior class—what a crock!” Even as promiscuous as she’d been then, the claim was outrageous. “How can they get away with saying this crap? Maybe I should sue them.”

  “I don’t think you have a case if that’s what people told them, and you know it probably is. People in this town will believe anything bad about the Larkin girls.”

  “You’re right,” Maggie grumbled. “And besides, the tabloids are just following where the De Luca family points. Rafe said his family would go after me, and this is what he meant.”

  Zoe’s jaw tightened. “Big deal, we’ve taken hits before. So we fight back. Go after Rafe.”

  Rather than fire her up, the words pricked Maggie like pins, leaving her deflated. “I can’t.”

  “What?” Anger mixed with incredulity as Zoe’s mouth dropped open. “Why not? You know I’ll support you. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “I appreciate it, but that’s not it. It’s Sophie. Cal said if I keep this fight going, the tabloids will find her and drag her into it.”

  “What can they possibly say about her?”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows in weary defeat. “Anything they want, apparently. If they hurt her, they hurt me, and that’s what Rafe wants. Just saying she’s related to me would be bad enough. Having her name dragged through the tabloids won’t help her get a teaching position at a university. Plus, she’s never dealt with this crap. She never had to develop that hard shell, and I like her that way.”

  “Damn. I’ll bet that’s why she wanted to meet us here.”

  Maggie frowned. “When? Next weekend when she comes home?”

  “No, tonight, any time now. She left school early and said she’d meet me here so we could talk about it. You think she’s worried about how this might impact her?”

  “Oh, God. Probably. She should be.” She pressed her lips together and gave Zoe a pleading look. “I can’t let them drag her into this, Zoe. I’d rather let everyone think I had some brief fling with Rafael De Luca than turn the tabloids loose to ravage Sophie. At least one of the Larkin girls can walk through this town without causing whispered comments, and I’d like to keep it that way. Can you understand?”

  “Sure.” Zoe reached out to take Maggie’s hand in her own. “I agree; we need to keep this from touching Sophie. And we can always put the true story out later, that you just lied about having an affair with Rafe in order to stop all the lies.”

  “No, I can’t. I’ll have to sign something that says I can’t talk about it.”

  Zoe made a disgusted face. “Well, I don’t, and I’ll be glad to tell everyone exactly what sort of arrogant asses the De Lucas are.”

  At the crunch of tires on gravel, they both looked toward the front window. Zoe flipped back the curtain and confirmed, “It’s Sophie.”

  They met her at the door, each of them drawing their slender, chestnut-haired sister into a firm hug. “You cut your hair,” Maggie said, fingering the locks that barely reached past Sophie’s jawline. “I love it. It’s even shorter than mine.”

  “Thanks. Listen—”

  “God, those are cute shoes. Where’d you get them?”

  “Boulder. I have to—”

  “Adorable,” Zoe agreed.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Maggie gushed, hugging Sophie again. “Will David be coming soon? I’m dying to meet him.”

  “Maggie!”

  Maggie paused, blinking at her youngest sister. “What?”

  “I didn’t come to discuss my shoes or my boyfriend. Well, not exactly,” she corrected, letting the vague statement hang there. “I want to hear about this stuff with Rafe De Luca. I know whatever I heard can’t be true, and I want the whole story from you.”

  Maggie shrugged it off as she guided Sophie toward a seat in the living room. “I’ll tell you everything, but don’t worry about it, it’s all going to be over soon anyway. The De Lucas are going to spin it as an affair and a lovers’ quarrel, and they’ll make sure all the nasty stories stop.”

  “What!” Sophie popped back off the couch. “You had an affair with that little prick?”

  Maggie scowled while Zoe laughed and pulled Sophie down again. “I’m not that crazy,” Maggie said. “But that lie is better than the lies they’re spreading now, so I decided to play by their rules. It’ll be better for everyone in the long run.”

  “Better for whom?” Sophie demanded, dark brown eyes snapping with anger. She scooted to the edge of the cushion, leaning intently toward Maggie. “How can it be better to just ignore all those things they’re saying, and let everyone who knows us assume they’re true?”

  A sick feeling began in Maggie’s stomach. Everyone who knows us, she’d said, not everyone who knows you. “Did someone on the faculty co
nnect you to the stories about me?”

  Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I think one of the tabloids called my advisor. They called my landlord, too. But I don’t care about that,” she said, waving it aside. “I was more upset that some reporter called David and asked him about our family, and hinted about how hot I must be in bed.”

  “No!” Maggie stared in shock at her sister. “They called your boyfriend? They already know who he is?”

  “Oh, yeah. But more important, do you know who he is? David is the son of a minister.” She raised her eyebrows significantly. “A nice, conservative minister. His parents get hives at the very thought of sex scandals. They conspicuously avoid talking about their son’s living arrangements, just in case he might be fornicating with me on a regular basis, as he is, and he’s quite happy to keep them in the dark. But he loves them dearly and he’s a bit jittery about their finding out that my sister is a Hollywood Jezebel.”

  “Oh, my God,” Maggie groaned. “I’m so sorry, Sophie!”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Sophie ordered. “If David’s afraid to defend me to his parents, I’d rather know that now. But you need to stick up for yourself! Tell the truth!”

  Maggie scrunched her eyebrows. “I don’t think you want me to do that, sweetie. Rafe is a snake, and his family is a writhing nest of vipers. If you think it’s ugly now, Cal assures me it will get worse if I don’t go along with Rafe’s story of a lovers’ quarrel, and he’s been right about everything else so far.”

  “Who’s Cal?”

  Maggie hesitated, censoring the first words that came to mind, such as smart, stubborn, bossy, arrogant, and sexy as sin. She gave an involuntary jerk. Where had that last one come from?