They reached his truck and Raul helped Emma into it. Moments later they were speeding down the highway. The colorful scenes they’d witnessed on the drive out were gone, swallowed by darkness. Light from a few homes glowed here and there, but for the most part, the road was black, the lack of electricity almost eerie. Raul glanced across the seat at Emma. She was facing the window, her eyes studying the night as if she could find the answers she needed.

Neither of them spoke, and as the empty miles slipped by, Raul couldn’t help but wonder what she must have thought of the conversation she’d overheard between him and Kelman.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. What exactly had Kelman expected Raul to say when he’d confronted him? Hi, I’m here to shake the hand of the man who framed me and put me in prison for five years?

His knuckles turning white in the darkness, Raul thought back to the woman who’d started it all. He’d had no idea who Denise was when they’d first met. The stunning brunette had come on to him in a bar, and he’d accepted what she’d offered, as would have any man. All he’d seen was a gorgeous woman. He’d had no idea she was living with anyone, much less with William Kelman. Sick of Kelman’s underhanded ways and tired of his overblown ego, she’d used Raul as an excuse. Within days of their meeting in the bar, she’d moved out of Kelman’s place and into a tiny apartment of her own.

Kelman was well-known in Washington. He was flashy and obvious, and everyone knew he was with the DEA. Raul’s biggest mistake had been to start an affair with Denise, and it’d almost cost him his life. That’s what happens when you think with something other than your brain, Raul told himself now.

Once William Kelman had found out what his lover had done, Raul’s life had quickly gone down the drain. He’d come home from a trip to the Bahamas, climbed into his car at the airport and started home. Before he’d gone a block, the red and blue lights of a police cruiser were flashing behind him. He’d pulled over and within seconds, a dozen other cops and five guys in windbreakers with “DEA” emblazoned on the pockets were surrounding him. One man in particular he’d never forget. He’d stood in the center of the road and smirked at Raul, a plastic bag of something powdery and white in his beefy hand.

“And what might this be, Counselor?” He’d pulled the bag from Raul’s trunk, along with a.45. Neither had belonged to Raul and he’d had no idea where they’d come from. The man’s expression was unlike anything Raul had ever seen before, either. It’d taken him five years to figure it out, but finally he’d understood. It’d been gleeful, because he was paying off the devil. The agent was dirty, and Kelman had known. To get Kelman off his back, the agent had agreed to stage the stop, including the planting of the drugs and weapon.

They’d handcuffed Raul and led him away. Two months later he was in a federal prison in Cumberland, Maryland. There was no parole at this level for drug violations. The half a kilo of cocaine and the gun had netted him a six-year sentence. The cocaine they’d “discovered” in his car later disappeared from the evidence room, but the sentence hadn’t. For five years and two months he’d wondered what had happened, then Denise Murphy had visited him and told him the truth.

William Kelman had set them both up. She’d gotten out earlier only because they’d planted less in her apartment.

William Kelman had stolen five years of Raul’s life, and now it was payback time. He would take what meant most to Kelman, and that was his money.

The SUV had actually been stopped for a second before Raul realized he’d parked the car in front of Emma’s home without even being aware of it. She reached into her purse, removed her keys and looked over at him. Her face was in shadow. “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

With thoughts of Denise floating around in his head, Raul hesitated. He’d wanted an invitation earlier, but now he realized it was out of character for Emma to ask him in. Then she moved and he saw her expression in the light of a nearby street lamp. She looked lonely, lonely and sad. Seeing that emotion on any other woman, he would have headed the other way. Reading it on Emma’s face, he had only one answer.

“I’d like that very much.”

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CHAPTER SIX

AS EMMA USHERED Raul into her living room, she realized too late that it looked exactly like what it was-a place for entertaining that was never used. The maid came every day to sweep and dust, but glancing around the tiny parlor, Emma suddenly felt embarrassed by the sterility. It held no photos, no mementos, nothing to indicate that she had lived there for two days, much less two years. For the first time since she’d come to Santa Cruz, she mentally compared her house to the home from which she’d been expelled. It had been a sanctuary where lemon-polished furniture rested on handmade rag rugs, and oils of her children gleamed from their places on the walls. The image brought a lump to her throat.

Raul seemed to sense her discomfort. “Do you have a patio or garden where we can sit? The weather’s too nice to ignore.”

Grateful for his perception, Emma led him toward the back of the house. They had to pass through the kitchen, which was messy, but at least it looked as though someone lived here. Stepping outside to the bricked patio, she held out her hand. “How’s this?”

He smiled in the darkness. “Perfect.”

She made her way to the chairs and table that perched on the edge of the patio. More hand-me-downs from the previous tenants. She pulled out a chair and Raul surveyed her yard. It was planted with a riot of tropical plants, and the night air was filled with their fragrance.

He stood for a moment in silence, then breathed in deeply as she watched, tilting his head to take in the stars overhead. It was the gesture of a man who’d been inside too long, and Leon’s words shot into her head.

A moment later, Raul stepped to where she sat, taking one of the chairs and moving it closer to hers. Over the scent of the flowers, she caught a suggestion of spice, an aftershave lotion, she realized a moment later. How long had it been since she’d noticed anything like that?

All at once, she regretted her invitation. It’d been crazy. Impulsive. Totally foreign to her usual behavior. What had she been thinking?

He started to sit down, then stopped. “Damn! I can’t believe I forgot,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I brought you a little something, but I left it in the truck. I’ll be right back.”

Emma watched him disappear into the house only to return a few minutes later. He held out a bulky newspaper. “A friend came in last night from the States. I asked him to pick this up for you.”

Mystified, Emma took the paper and unrolled it. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she took in the banner at the top. “The Times Picayune! Oh, my God, how great!”

“I thought you might enjoy it. News from home is always nice.”

She shook her head with delight. “You don’t know,” she said. “It’s been months since I saw one and this is yesterday’s, too!” Impulsively she hugged him, then drew back quickly. “Thank you very much. I’ll read it from cover to cover!”

He looked pleased by her reaction, a slow smile spreading across his face. Something warm and unexpected rolled down her spine. Trying her best to ignore the feeling, Emma folded the paper carefully and put it to one side of the table.

He tapped the paper. “Tell me about your home there…about yourself.”

“You know all there is to know,” she said lightly. “I’m divorced, I’ve lived here two years, I’m a banker. That’s it.”

“That’s not who you are,” he said. “It’s what’s happened to you and where you live, what you do for a living, but it’s not you.”