Chapter 26 Rafe
RAFE
"It's done," Sal says. "The shipment was delivered. The buyer is happy. Clean operation, no hiccups." His call couldn't come at a worse time. What Riley did was really foolish, and I'm upset with her, but I can't blame her at all. I know how desperate she is to see her family.
I exhale slowly and turn away from her wide eyes. "Good."
"You did well, Rafe. Cleaning up Marco's mess wasn't easy, but you handled it. The family is pleased."
"I'm glad to hear it."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and I can hear the shift in his tone before he speaks again. "Now you need to clean up those loose threads," he says, and I know to what he's referring. He's talking about Riley and giving me a choice now, but I've made that choice already.
"I'm keeping her around," I say.
He pauses again, probably to make sure I’m really listening. "Rafe—"
"She's an asset. You said so yourself. And I've staked my claim on her. She's not going anywhere."
"People are looking for her, Rafe, and we'll have no explanations.
The FBI is investigating. Her family has been all over the news.
If that leads back to you, the family will have no choice but to cut ties.
We'll feign ignorance of you in every way to keep our hands clean. You understand that, don't you?"
"It won't come to that, Sal. We've already worked out how to handle her return." I'm not even going to mention her little slip-up this evening or he'll show up here himself to put her down.
He's quiet for a long moment, and I can picture him sitting in his office, his fingers steepled in front of himself, weighing the risks against the benefits.
"You're taking a big risk for a woman you barely know," he says finally.
"I know her well enough."
"I hope so. Because if this goes sideways, if she turns on you or the investigation leads back to the family, I won't be able to protect you. You'll be on your own."
"I understand."
"Good. Then handle it… And don't make me regret trusting you on this."
The line goes dead, and I shove my phone back into my pocket.
Riley's in the bathroom getting ready for bed, and I can hear the water running in the sink.
I'm sure she still thinks that tomorrow we'll drive to Buffalo and walk into her parents' house, but I'm not sure.
The Feds have definitely been tracking all calls to and from her family for weeks. It's how they work.
That bit of contact with them is enough to trigger a massive explosion, and this house is right at the epicenter. We should've left, but running at this point will look more suspicious than staying put and lying to their faces.
I run my hand through my hair and stare at the ceiling. Sal's right to be worried. This is risky. If the Feds don't buy Riley's story, the entire operation could collapse. And Sal won't hesitate to cut me loose to save the family.
But I meant what I said. I'm not getting rid of her. I can't. Even if it means him cutting me off. I'd rather that than the alternative.
A knock at the door startles me, and I turn toward it as I hear Riley shuffling up the hallway.
It's just the sort of sound that makes your blood run cold when you know no one is aware of where you are.
I stand there in shock staring at the door, knowing Feodor would just knock once and let himself in. This is different.
The knock comes again, harder this time, and then I hear a voice.
"Police. We have a warrant. Open the door."
Every muscle in my body stretches tight and I suck in a deep breath to try to relax myself.
My weapons and cash are hidden now, stashed where the cops won't think to look, at least not once they see Riley is here.
And there's no point bracing for a fight.
If they arrest me, I'm done. And if they believe Riley, we may actually have a shot. I won't know until I answer the door.
Riley comes out of the bathroom, her eyes wide. "What's happening?"
"Cops," I say quietly. "They have a warrant."
"For what?"
"To search for you."
I see fear flit across her face and then resolve as she walks past me toward the door.
"What are you doing?" I hiss.
"Opening the door."
"Riley—"
"Trust me." She reaches for the handle, and I grab her wrist. "Rafe." She looks at me, and her eyes are calm. "You're afraid for no reason. Let me handle this."
I stare at her, every instinct screaming at me to pull her away from the door and find another way out. But there's something in her expression that stops me. She knows what she's doing.
I release her wrist and step back. Riley opens the door, and two uniformed officers stand on the porch with their hands resting on their belts.
Behind them I see a plainclothes detective, a woman in her late thirties with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.
The cold air that rushes into the room around them takes my breath away.
"Riley Maddox?" the detective asks.
"That's me." Riley smiles, and it's so genuine I almost believe it myself. "Come in. Please."
The officers exchange glances, clearly not expecting this response. They step into the room cautiously, and the detective follows, scanning the space before locking eyes on me.
"And you are?" she asks.
"Rafe Ferretti," I say. "Riley's boyfriend."
Riley walks over to me, draping her arm around my waist. The move is so natural, so comfortable, that the detective's expression shifts from suspicion to confusion.
"We have a warrant to check on your welfare, Miss Maddox," the detective says, pulling a folded document from her jacket pocket. "Your family reported you missing several weeks ago. Your car was found abandoned and burned. Your phone was off. We've been conducting an investigation."
"I know," Riley says, and she actually laughs. "My sister told me when I called her earlier today. I had no idea everyone was so worried. I'm really sorry about that."
The cops exchange confused expressions as they move deeper into the room, all of them now filing in and shutting the door behind them. "You disappeared for weeks without contacting anyone. Your family thought you were dead."
"I know, and I feel terrible about it. But it wasn't intentional. I just needed to get away for a while."
The detective pulls out a notepad. "Get away?"
Riley smiles warmly as she pulls me against her side more tightly. So far, she's doing a bang-up job acting calmly, though I already knew she could. She handled herself so well when we were faced with that federal inspection several weeks ago. I don’t know why I'm doubting her now.
"Rafe and I met a few weeks ago, and we hit it off right away. I was so stressed about the holidays and my sister's wedding and everything going on with work, and he offered to take me somewhere quiet where we could just be together. So I said yes."
"And you didn't think to tell your family?"
"I meant to. But my phone died the first day, and I left my charger at home. And honestly, it was so nice to be disconnected from everything that I just let it go. We didn't even turn on the TV once." That part's almost true. "It was the most relaxed I've felt in years."
The detective writes something in her notepad, and I can see the skepticism written all over her face. "Your car was found on the side of the highway burnt out. How do you explain that?"
"It broke down. Rafe was driving behind me, and when he saw me pull over, he stopped to help. We couldn't get it started, so we just left it there and took his car instead. I figured I'd deal with it when I got back."
"And you didn't think to report it?"
"I should have. I know that now. But at the time, I just wasn't thinking clearly. I was so caught up in everything that the car was the last thing on my mind."
The detective looks at me. "Can you confirm this story, Mr. Ferretti?"
"Every word," I say. "We met at a coffee shop a few months ago. We started talking, and we just clicked. When she told me how stressed she was, I offered to take her away for a while. We spent the last few weeks here just enjoying each other's company."
Riley leans against me, her hand resting on my chest, and she looks up at me with an expression so full of affection, I almost forget we're lying through our teeth.
"It's been perfect," she says. "He's perfect."
The detective doesn't look convinced, but before she can ask another question, there's a commotion outside. I hear raised voices, and then two men push past the officers and into the room.
Riley gasps and jumps off my lap. "Dad?"
Her father's a stocky man with gray hair and blue eyes that are red-rimmed from crying.
He rushes toward Riley and pulls her into his arms, and I see his shoulders shake as he holds her.
Deep, powerful sobs erupt from his chest, rattling his body and hers as she lets him envelope her in thick arms almost swallowing her whole.
"Thank God," he says, so choked up. "Thank God you're okay."
The other man is tall and lean with silver hair and a gray jacket. He must be the groom's father, the one who's been pushing the investigation. He stands in the doorway watching the reunion, staring at me like he sees right through me, but he won't get me to crack.
"Riley," her father says, pulling back to look at her. "What happened? Where have you been?"
"I'm okay, Dad. I promise. I just needed some time away, and I should've told you. I'm so sorry for scaring you."
"Time away? Your mother's been out of her mind. Your sister thought you were dead. We all thought—" His voice breaks again, and he pulls her back into his arms.
The state trooper steps forward. "Miss Maddox, I'm Detective Paul Hargrove. I've been assisting your family in the search for you. I need to ask you some questions."
Riley pulls away from her father and wipes at her eyes. "Of course. Whatever you need."
"Were you held against your will at any point during the past few weeks?"
"No. Absolutely not."
"Did this man" —he gestures toward me— "coerce you or threaten you in any way?"
"No. Rafe has been nothing but kind to me. This was my idea. I asked him to take me away. I needed the break."
"And your car? The abandoned vehicle on the highway?"
"It broke down. We left it there. I should've reported it, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time."
Detective Hargrove studies her face, and I can see him searching for any sign that she's lying. But Riley holds his gaze steadily, looking open and honest.
"Your family has been searching for you for weeks," he says. "The FBI has been involved. Resources have been dedicated to finding you. And you're telling me this was all just a misunderstanding?"
"Yes. And I'm so sorry for the trouble I've caused. I never meant for any of this to happen."
He looks at me, and I see the suspicion in his eyes. He doesn't believe her. But he also doesn't have any evidence to contradict her story.
The detective with the warrant steps forward. "Miss Maddox, we're going to need you to come down to the station tomorrow to give a formal statement."
"Yes, of course. I feel just awful." Riley pulls away from her father and walks back to me, letting me put an arm around her.
I don't say much because what am I supposed to say?
This entire story has been concocted in her head and we haven't even discussed it at length.
The last thing we need is a contradiction that will cause problems.
"Well… it’s Christmas Eve, but we still have a lot of questions…” The lady cop hands Riley her card and backs away. It appears they may leave, given that they have what they wanted—knowledge that Riley is safe. But her father isn't budging.
Not exactly how I expected my "meet the parents" moment to go.
And judging by the look on his face, I think I'm in for a very hard road toward acceptance.
Heaven help me.