“Don’t panic. We just need to talk.” He paused, wondering how to phrase things without really telling the man his wife had asked Rafe to follow him and make sure he was telling the truth. “Is everything okay at home?”
Pirro narrowed his gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Aunt Vi is upset. She’s worried that you haven’t been acting like yourself, and you’re going out more often. And I’ve noticed you’ve been very quiet lately.”
He waved Rafe away with one hand. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Then why does Aunt Vi think there’s someone else?” he said, awkwardly but as delicately as he could.
Pirro’s eyes opened wide. “She said that? And sent you to ask me?”
Rafe dipped his head. “Sort of. Look, you’re here where you’re supposed to be, which is exactly what I figured. But she said there are times when you leave at odd hours, telling her you’re going to play poker when there’s really no game, and you know Aunt Vi. She’s imagining the worst and spinning all sorts of weird scenarios.” Rafe refused to elaborate on those. “So, what’s going on? And how can I help?”
“Nothing.” Pirro shuffled his feet and glanced at the blacktop driveway.
Clearly he was lying. “Come on. Man-to-man. If there’s something you want to tell me, I’m here to listen.”
Pirro paused. In the silence that followed, Rafe believed he was considering confiding in him.
“There’s nothing.”
Damn. Still, Rafe decided to give it one last shot. “I know she’s not an easy woman to live with, but you love her, right?”
Pirro raised his hand to his chest. “With all my heart!”
“Good. Then do us both a favor? Go home to your wife. Convince her everything’s fine and you’re not…seeking comfort with someone else.” That way Rafe would never have to humiliate himself like this again.
“Of course I’m not seeking comfort with someone else! There’s no other woman for me.”
Rafe stepped forward and put an arm around the older man’s shoulders. “Then where are you going when there’s no poker game going on?”
Pirro shook his head and puffed out his shoulders. His face turned red with anger. “Can’t a man have any privacy anymore?” Pirro asked. “I need time and space to myself, that’s all.”
He was lying.
Rafe had interrogated too many suspects who be came defiant when they didn’t want to answer a question not to recognize Pirro’s deflective behavior. “Fine. If you ever want to talk, I’m here. But for now, go home to your wife and calm her down, okay?”
The man nodded and headed for his car, leaving Rafe with no answers and an uneasy feeling that something was very wrong.
ANGEL’S BED-AND-BREAKFAST was a four-bedroom house with three bedrooms available to boarders. Two of those bedrooms were occupied by the ever-present Biff and Todd, leaving one couple from Connecticut in the remaining room. The couple left late Sunday afternoon after the wine festival had officially come to an end. Only Biff and Todd remained. Their stay was indefinite, as they claimed to be on a working vacation, and now that the business part of their trip had ended with the festival, they planned to stay on.
Which meant Nick wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He had been staying at Angel’s since the fire Friday night. He wouldn’t call the pullout couch in the small den comfortable, but at least he was able to keep an eye on her. The unsolved arson case weighed heavily on his mind, as did the idea of the two men staying under the same roof as his wife.
He appreciated the chance to wake up and see Angel first thing in the morning. She prepared an elaborate breakfast for her guests, clearly enjoying her new role, and she’d invited him to join them all for breakfast.
He’d agreed and was certain that the meal was the best thing he’d eaten in the six months since he’d moved out. Man, he’d missed her home cooking.
But not as much as he’d missed her.
He reminded himself that this didn’t have to end. She’d offered him the possibility of reconciliation, but their getting back together hinged on coming to terms with the things that divided them. He’d have to get over his aversion to Angel’s business if he was going to fix his marriage. But accepting her B and B was easy now that he’d allowed himself to really see Angel and how much she enjoyed operating the business and interacting with her customers. She deserved some happiness after what they’d been through, and he’d never take that joy away from her. But until she faced their loss, until she talked it through with him and they grieved together, not separately, he couldn’t just accept it and go on as if nothing tragic had happened.
LUNCHTIME MONDAY, Rafe and Sara walked into Moe’s, the main restaurant in town. When Nick had called and asked Rafe to meet him, he’d agreed on lunch, wanting to wait until the alarm company was settled in doing the install. Going to town later in the morning also gave the remaining stragglers from the festival a chance to get out of town. If Rafe was going to bring Sara out in the open, he wanted to see as few strangers as possible.
The counter was full of regulars, including his uncle Pirro and the bookkeeper who was new to the business but not to the town. The booths were also filling up, but Moe’s wife, Nadeen, pointed to a table where Nick was waiting. All in all, everything looked and felt normal.
Rafe was about to head to his brother, when Sara tugged on his hand, stopping him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nick wanted to talk to you. Maybe I should wait up front,” she offered.
“No.” Rafe was not leaving her alone. “Come sit with us. Besides, you have to eat lunch.” Grasping her hand tighter in his, he pulled her toward the table.
Nick rose to greet them. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” Rafe stepped aside to let Sara slide into the booth first before easing in next to her.
She’d been edgy since getting off the phone with the captain this morning. The Bachelor Blog, though spotlighting a guy in the city, still made sure to hit on the Sara-Rafe romance daily, reminding the city that they were huddled together in Rafe’s hometown, Sara getting to know his family and Rafe getting to know Sara even better.
The captain had tried placing a call to the editor of the Daily Post, asking them to lay off publishing information on Sara’s whereabouts, but citing the Bachelor Blogger’s First Amendment right to free speech, the editor had respectfully declined. Sara felt like a walking target.