I thought again of the scene I had witnessed: Raphael bending over Tanya's body. Could I have been wrong about him? Hadn't he discovered Tanya accidentally as I had? And what was he doing out there rather than staying at the fair, where he was needed? Did he have a reason to want Tanya dead?
I shook the thought away as soon as it formed. I might not have known Raphael long, but I knew I trusted him. He was not a killer. "Why weren't you at the fair?"
His eyes narrowed.
"It was only eleven. You should have been watching over the crowds as the bands changed. Why weren't you there?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"OK, let's try this question on for size. What hold does Dominic have over you? What does he know about your last job that keeps you, a man who is well educated and intelligent, working an inferior job at a moderately successful little traveling fair? Why aren't you some high-powered mucky-muck at an international corporation?"
"Joy—"
He had no intention of answering me, that was plain. I didn't matter enough to him; he didn't trust me because I was nothing but an unimportant floozy who threw herself into his bed. A holiday fling, Roxy had called it. Tears started pricking behind my eyeballs.
"No good? Well, how about this: What did you pick up when you were bending over Tanya's body?"
Raphael looked shocked by what I said. "You saw me pick something up?" he asked.
"Yes. Just before you went to the hotel, you picked something up from the ground near Tanya. What was it, one of her wax voodoo dolls?"
He looked at me as if I were a stranger. "You were spying on me? Following me?"
Maybe I was a stranger. Maybe I didn't know him at all.
Maybe I had made the worst mistake of my life. I shook my head. "No, I wasn't following you and I wasn't spying on you. And to tell you the truth"—I brushed away a tear that rolled down my cheek—"I'm more than a little insulted that you'd think I would."
Slowly he got out of bed and grabbed his pants from where they dangled from the doorknob. "How did you know I took something from Tanya?"
Oh, God, how could things be so good one moment and so bad the next? I pulled the sheet up until it covered my now chilled flesh. "I saw you. I wasn't spying on you, I was just taking the long way to the hotel because a bunch of kids were drunk on the east side of the meadow, and I didn't want to walk through them alone. I just saw you, that's all. You were acting funny, so I just watched to see what it was you were doing. And now, if you're finished with the third degree, I think I want to go back to my hotel. I have the feeling that I'm not terribly welcome here anymore."
He reached a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a purple stone. I stared at it, a chill skimming my spine. "It's a rune."
He nodded.
"An amethyst rune."
He said nothing.
"Just like mine."
His eyes glittered with dark emotion.
"You found it on her body?"
"Yes," he said, the word stark and bare in the warmth of his bedroom.
I shook my head. "It's not mine. It can't be mine. I was reading them earlier, before she was killed. It must be from another set."
"I asked Paal. He only had one set of amethyst stones. He sold it to you."
I was still shaking my head, hard now. "No. It can't be mine. I was using them." I looked up from the stone to search his eyes. "I didn't kill her, Raphael."
He closed his fist around the stone and pulled me to his chest. "I know you didn't, baby. I didn't mean to give you the third degree, I just had to ask." His kisses were very, very sweet and apologized better than any words could. He put his mouth to my ear and growled in a low, husky voice, "I don't want you to leave. I need you."
Another tear spilled over at the pain caused by his sweet words. "But not enough to trust me with your secret?"
His arms tightened around me until we were pressed tightly together. "Ah, baby, I wish everything was different so I could explain it to you, but this is important."
I tipped my head back so he could see the pain in my eyes. "And I'm not?" I asked in a whisper.
"You're the most important thing in my life," he said softly, his eyes glowing. "It's because of my feelings for you that I need you to trust me and not ask me for answers I can't give."
"You want my trust but won't give me yours, is that it?" I asked, pushing back on his chest until we were separated.
"That's it," he answered, his gaze holding mine.
I looked at him for a long time, outwardly calm, but inside, hurt and anger were mixed up with love and the desire to give him what he wanted. I thought about what he meant to me. I weighed my love for him against a lifetime of never mattering as much to him as he did to me.