Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) by Mari Manning Page B

her back in the rumpled bed, staring up at the infinite yellow dots of light and feeling alone.
    Dinah waved her hand at the unmade bed. “Have a seat. I have something to show you.” A discarded bra lay across the pillow. “Sorry for the mess.” Dinah grabbed it and a pair of blue silky panties near his feet and tossed them into the closet.
    Sweet lord!
    Pulling a baby doll off the shelf, she plopped herself beside him.
    What was the doll for? Was she into something kinky? He needed time to think. “I’m on duty right now, but if you want I could come back later—”
    Her jaw dropped, and she punched his shoulder. “Get your head out of your pants, Officer. I am trying to assist your investigation, and I’d rather not make my daddy’s last statement a topic of public speculation. Hollyn doesn’t seem like a gossip, but she’s as curious as a cat sometimes. I’d die if this got out, and people started talking about him again.”
    It took him a minute to switch gears. “Sorry. You got me a little worked up with all that rubbing, Miss Dinah.” He arched a brow at her, struggling to gain the upper hand.
    She wasn’t biting. Her eyes met his straight on. “Uh-huh.”
    She twisted the head off the doll and fished around in the body until she pulled out an envelope jingling with coins, a man’s wedding ring, and a tightly folded paper. She unfolded the paper. “The prison said they were sending copies of this to local law enforcement, but I didn’t know if you’d seen it.”
    He took it from her. “No. It would probably go to the sheriff’s office. I’ll ask after it tomorrow.”
    He read the letter while she waited. It was hard to concentrate with Dinah sitting right beside him, her breath caressing his jaw as she reread the letter over his shoulder.
    Don’t let temper…ruin your life…like I did. Waves of emotions collided inside him. Anger at a man who had thrown away his wife and daughter in a fit of temper. Hurt over what Dinah must have gone through. But mostly fear that the events Ben Pittman set in motion over eight years ago weren’t resolved yet, and his daughter was in danger. He read the last words again. A chill ran down his spine. Trust…no one. Take the gold…straight [indecipherable] in Austin.
    He curled his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry, Dinah.”
    Her body stiffened. “It’s okay.”
    He retrieved his arm. “I know you’re not a fan of cops, and I don’t blame you, but this one’s got your back. Not just because it’s my job, either. I feel like we’re friends.”
    She sighed deeply. “I do, too, Rafe. I didn’t mean, uh, it’s just that, well, I’m dealing with a lot right now. That’s all.”
    “Yeah.” So was he. “If this letter is accurate, seems like your father knew where the money was.”
    “Doesn’t mean I do.”
    “Most folks would conclude otherwise after reading this transcript. He asked you to return the money.”
    “Actually he said to return the gold. But the armored car had dollars.”
    “Maybe he bought gold.”
    “Do you have any idea how much a quarter-million dollars worth of gold would weigh?”
    He’d never considered it. “No, do you?”
    She sighed. “No. But it seems like it would be hard to hide.”
    “Maybe not. Gold would be harder to hide than paper money, but it would resist fire or water damage or rot.”
    She stood and began to pace her little room. “But he talked like I knew where the money was, or at least I would happen upon it easily.”
    Rafe studied her starry ceiling. “He wouldn’t hide it in the house. It wouldn’t be safe. Anyone could have walked in since you’ve been gone and stumbled on it.”
    “Maybe someone did. You said squatters come through here, didn’t you?”
    He did some quick calculations in his head. “Based on gold prices eight years ago, a quarter of a million dollars worth would probably take up the area of a small filing cabinet and weigh at least several hundred