Lora Leigh - Midnight Sins

But the question held her attention. She knew the answer to it, despite the doubt she saw in his eyes.

“Because the year my mother was the assistant principal when you were in the eighth grade, Rafer, just before she retired for medical reasons, Clyde Ramsey had occasion to pay her a visit, and during that visit he informed her quite frankly, and quite furiously, that there wasn’t a single one of his ‘boys’ that would steal so much as a drink of water if they were dying of thirst.”

Rafe’s gaze narrowed on her.

“You remember that, don’t you?” she asked him softly, careful to keep her voice low, just as she had from the first word she spoke.

“The principal, Todd Collingsworth, had accused us of stealing brass from the science lab to sell,” Rafe remembered, his expression thoughtful.

“I don’t think Clyde ever believed you’d steal. I think he didn’t want you there alone, because it was so far from town and anyone could have struck out at you with no one knowing. But at the town socials, if you stayed there, or later if you went camping on those weekends he was out of town, then you were much safer.”

The three of them watched her. The doubt she had seen earlier was still there, but there was also the knowledge that it was possible she was right. They were considering her argument; that was what mattered.

“Anything’s possible,” Rafe finally admitted. “It doesn’t change the fact that he never told us of any of those battles and there were only a few of the fights we were aware that he had with the Corbins.”

The fights with the Corbins had been bad, but the ones he’d had with his father and mother, Rafe’s grandparents, had been particularly brutal several times.

“Did you hear of the arguments he had with Dale and Laura Ramsey?” she asked.

She didn’t call them Rafe’s grandparents. The disrespect to Clyde and to Rafe was more than she could bear.

“Let’s say, we caught wind of them,” Rafe sighed. “Just as we noticed that neither of them were at the funeral when he died.” Rafe’s voice hardened as his eyes looked like chips of ice for just a second. “Clyde never told us about them, though, and he never admitted to them.”

Of course he couldn’t admit to them, Cami thought. If the stories her uncle had told over the years had been true, and Eddy wasn’t prone to lie, then Clyde had nearly attempted murder the first time his father and mother showed up in court against Rafe to claim the inheritance Dale’s daughter had left to her son.

“He did it to protect you. Jaymi told me of several times Clyde came to the high school after she began there as a substitute. The principal was known to run and hide when his truck was seen pulling into the parking area.”

Jaymi had always believed Clyde Ramsey had loved each of his “boys” and had done his best by them. Cami had always argued that he could have done so much more.

“None of this answers the question on the table, though,” Logan pointed out. “Why were you warned away from Rafe, then attacked when you didn’t obey the demand carefully enough? And why was Jack Townsend’s place just blown to hell and back this morning?”

“Are we sure it began here?” she asked them all. “Jaymi was receiving the same phone calls. Maybe we’ve been wrong all these years. Maybe she wasn’t a random choice by a crazed serial killer. The FBI said there were two men committing those crimes, not just one. Maybe Jaymi was targeted for other reasons? Because she refused to do as she was told.”

“Why would anyone care to kill the women we sleep with, Cami?” Crowe asked incredulously. “Why give a fuck? There are no heiresses left in Corbin County with the exception of William Corbin’s daughter, and she’s rarely in Corbin County, let alone around any of us.”

At that point, Cami’s hands fell from her shoulders to allow her to rake her fingers through her hair in frustration. “I didn’t say I knew why,” she admitted. “But as you said, why give a fuck who you fuck? Why call Jaymi and threaten her? Why do the same with me? And why resurrect a monster? Unless there were two killers and one of them has decided to start killing again.”

Her gaze met Rafe’s, and she saw the suspicion her questions had raised, but she also saw doubt. The cousins didn’t want to accept that Jaymi could have died because of her tie to Rafe, but Cami had accepted it a long time ago. She had simply believed the past was dead.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t dead.

She could feel it, like a chill racing across her flesh, like the whisper of unseen force at her ear.

There was so much more going on here than three families’ disowning their grandsons because of who their fathers were and because the boys’ mothers refused to love anyone else. No, there was something more sinister, and she had a feeling that finding the answers to the questions she had raised could be a long time coming. And asking those questions where other ears could hear would be more dangerous than she might have anticipated.

As she began to turn and move toward the counter and the coffee left in the pot, one of the cell phones in the center of the breakfast table began to vibrate imperatively.

Rafe’s hand flashed out, gripping the phone and flipping it open before hitting the call button in a seamless move as he brought it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he answered quietly, and waited a second, a frown brewing between his brows.

“How long have you been there?” His voice seemed to harden, his sapphire eyes gem bright and just as hard as he listened.

Pulling her gaze from his, Cami moved to the coffeepot and refilled the empty cup she had set in front of it earlier.

“Stay in place until daylight, then head to Cami’s,” he said. “Crowe or Logan will have breakfast for you.”

Rafe listened again before grunting mockingly. “Not in your dreams, Tank,” he replied to whatever the other man said. “I’ll be sleeping.”

Perhaps Tank wanted Rafe to fix breakfast.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Rafe told him before flipping the phone closed and staring back at Cami. “Tank’s at Amelia’s. No one is moving in or out, but he saw Amelia in her upstairs bedroom window as she closed the curtains. She’s not showing up tonight.”

It was still early.

She would show, Cami knew, but it wouldn’t be until late. Very late if Amelia followed the time line they’d had when they were younger.

Amelia had always been very adept at slipping out of her father’s house and slipping into Cami’s.

“She has the key to the basement door,” Cami told Rafe quietly as she set the coffee cup back on the counter. “I never had the lock changed, just in case she needed someplace to run to.”

Rafe leaned forward. “Cami, what was the secret you were keeping for Amelia?”

Closing her eyes, she lowered her head, her jaw clenching painfully.

Had it just been this morning? Had she told Rafe they had lost a child and in the next second been forced to face yet another emergency?

There had been no chance to rest, to find peace or a few moments to discuss much of anything that had happened three years before.

“Cami, the time to keep secrets is over,” he warned her, his voice low yet hard. “Why did Amelia go from the rebel with a cause to that staid, silent wraith of a young woman we saw today? What did her father learn when he read your diary?”

She was careful to keep her gaze down, but from the corners of her eyes she watched Crowe. Closely. And he was consciously not looking in her direction.

“Cami, I have to agree with Rafe,” Logan stated, his gaze compassionate but just as determined as his cousin’s. “We need to know now. She’s passing you notes that she can’t sign in her own name, and coded with a message that only you would understand that she needs to meet with you. Something’s wrong here, and it’s affecting more than just those in this room at the moment.”