Chapter 51 - South Beach - Hot Afternoon, Temperature Falling

South Beach – Oceanside Boardwalk, 4 PM


The heat rose up in waves as Rafe strode down the sidewalk toward the unmarked shop. It blurred the horizon, burned through the soles of his sneakers, and left patches of sweat under his arms. High summer in South Beach. Hot as hell. Beaches packed, every bar crowded, heat…

It was, ultimately, his element. Ride the heat. Use the heat.

He paused next to a fountain, letting the breeze from the ocean blow the water across his bare arms. He’d asked a favor, received it, and now that he was here to collect, wasn’t at all certain it had been the right thing to do.

Too late to have second thoughts now, he told himself, pushing open the door into the unmarked shop. It was almost empty – a desk, a copier in the corner, the boxes on the floor next to a window, and Beth standing there waiting for him and looking none too thrilled about it.

“Hi,” Rafe greeted her, entering into the stiflingly hot room. “Did you get it done?”

“Of course I got it done,” she retorted. “It’s all scanned and copied and packed and locked in a safe. I put the originals back in the boxes and taped them up. And you’re about an hour late. Do you need any help getting them to your car? I really want to get out of here.”

Rafe had not paid much attention to the place when he’d dropped them off. Nothing here but some family portraits on the wall – she’d told him she hadn’t opened yet though. Cooper. Ninety percent Cooper and ten percent everybody else in Cooper’s life. He drew a breath and shrugged it off. Past time for him to let her deal with Cooper by herself. “Sorry, I got held up in beach traffic. It’s summer,” he reminded her, realized that wasn’t a great move - she knew the beach as well as he did, probably better - then added, changing the subject, “Did you read it?”

“No Rafe,” Beth snapped. Her tanned skin was gleaming with perspiration and she was obviously irritated and uncomfortable. “I closed my eyes the whole time I was scanning and copying them. Of course I read it. Some of it. Ok most of it. And if you want to talk about it, let’s go outside. I don’t even have AC in here yet and it’s hot.”

They walked together out onto the boardwalk where Beth paused, gazing down at the ocean and the long stretch of dunes and beach curving to the northeast. Just to the west was Tony’s place. On the other side of those rocks – Camilla. Further west – Ryan, someone she couldn’t even allow herself to think about, not even a stray thought. Far to the north, way beyond sight on the other side of the bay, the house she shared with Cooper. A beautiful landscape under constant threat of storms.

“A lot of history out there,” Rafe commented quietly.

“Everybody has history,” she replied, turning away from the view. “It’s not important.”

Rafe paused briefly, then pressed, “Beth, I want to know what you think. You’ve stood by me a long time, and you didn’t have any reason to do that. My family’s been nothing but trouble for you – Tony, Gabe, Cam and her attitude about you, and I haven’t been much better. What the hell should I do?”

He didn’t know the half of it, Beth thought wryly. Shove Gen and Marc in there and label it Beth’s Really Bad Party Mix. She sighed, watching him – it wasn’t Rafe’s fault though. And he had taken a lot of heat for simply trying to look out for her; everyone thinking he was getting into Coop’s business, Gabe sniping at him, Tony probably pissed at him for staying in touch.

“Rafe,” she began carefully, determined not to tell him what she really thought - take out that bitch mother and do it now, “I don't know what to say and I can't tell you what to do. Sometimes I don't see things clearly. But I think you know what to do. Do what you need to do.”

He grumbled something inaudible and turned away from the oceanfront. Beth thought about it, watching him. There was something more she could do, a detail she was certain he had missed, almost certain, pretty certain. Certain enough to do it and let it fly because she was sure it would work. But not certain enough to tell him about it. Hauling boxes of papers all over the place was not the best way to deal with this when there was an alternative. Even though it would mean doing something he probably wouldn’t like, and she wasn’t absolutely positive…but when in life do you ever have the luxury of being absolutely positive about anything?

Rafe turned back to her, searching her face. “If I could have kept this in the family, I would have done it. You need to stay out of it from here on. Thanks for copying everything.”

Beth pulled him into a hug, trying to ignore her own misgivings and she had plenty of them. This was yet another secret she had to keep from Cooper; Gabe was involved and that was always bad; and she worried about what this was going to do to Rafe, if he did what she thought he was going to do, even if he got through it alive. Let it go, she told herself firmly. Deal with it later. His body was hot. Hers was too – she felt like she stuck to him – and that drew her somewhere else entirely, someplace and somebody else. She wanted to go home. She wanted Cooper.

“Trust your instincts,” she murmured against his broad shoulder. “And Rafe,” she added fiercely, “Go get her.”

South Beach – Taylor Residence; 6 PM


Long shadows had begun to track across the road and the driveway by the time Rafe reached his mother and stepfather’s house. According to the social secretary, his mother was “at home” but “unavailable”. He’d stashed the boxes back at his house, picked up his bike, and drove out to what had to be the very farthest northern border of South Beach. So far north, he wondered, as he strode toward the door, if they were even in the same zip code out here.

Rafe hesitated at the security panel, checked the code he’d written on the inside of his palm, and punched in the numbers. Gabe might be an asshole, but he remembered and had included every damned detail...including the security code to his mother’s house. And so far, he’d gotten every detail right.

He knew the way. Leaping up the stairs, hoping he didn’t run into the social secretary herself or any other household help, Rafe went right up to the deck where his mother usually entertained – at least in this house she did. And there she was, on the other side of the fish pond or whatever that thing was, chatting it up with another woman.

He steadied himself. It had been years since he had seen her – back in college. He’d had his father there for moral support, and still it had taken everything he had to force himself to walk through the door. Funny thing, maybe it was an illusion, but she looked smaller now. Diminished by distance. No longer the terrifying figure that had loomed in nightmares for so long. Don’t underestimate her, Rafe warned himself. Whatever you do, don’t do that.

He was halfway across the deck before she saw him. Eden broke off her conversation, turned in her chair and glared at him. She certainly didn’t look her age – botox or work or both, venom bottled for perpetuity. "Who let you in?” she demanded.

The blonde who was sitting with her got up and looked in his direction. Whoever she was, his mother pulled in her tongue and made a pretty face. Someone with money, or power, or both.

“Ivory Galipova,” the blonde introduced herself, reaching for his hand.

Rafe tried to size her up, but he got nothing from her. No heat, no interest, no attitude, no accent, no perfume, nothing. Bland. Ivory Soap. “Rafe Taylor,” he responded, briefly returning the handshake. “Pleasure to meet you. “Yes,” she replied. Quiet blue Heidi eyes, but they twinkled for a split second. “I believe we’re finished here. I’m on my way out.”

He watched her walk away, still curious, looking over his mother’s shoulder, as Eden started in on him. “Do you have any idea what you interrupted? Of course you don't - between you and your useless father, and I understand he's gone back to that whore - you've interfered in an important meeting. If you want to see me, and I cannot imagine why you think I would be interested in seeing you, you certainly should know by now that you have to get on my calendar."

Same thing, always the same thing. The woman never even updated her attack, right down to the old rant about Tony and MJ. It was incredible. Rafe pushed past her, meeting her eyes, deliberately bumping into her shoulder as he walked by. Was it going to be this easy?

Rafe stopped, turned his back to the glass rail, propped one foot against it, which seemed to infuriate his mother even more – goddamn; footprints on the glass – and watched her. He stopped listening. It was noise, nothing more than noise. He toyed with his wedding ring, turning it, leaning hard on that slim silver band, and let his mother continue to try to slice off his balls with her voice. It didn’t work anymore.

“By the way,” he finally broke in, tiring of it and he did have another stop to make, "I know what you've been doing. The political contributions and where they came from. What you've done in return. What you plan to do. Turning it right back at the Senator, righteous Eden rooting out evil. Taking him down and taking his place and going right on up from there. It’s good. Even for you, it’s good. You covered it all – money, power and a great game. I know it and I've got proof."

She definitely hadn’t anticipated anything like that because she shut up fast. Rafe walked away from her again – standing that close to her still bothered him. He walked to the end of the deck and looked down. Pool. Chairs. Some kind of umbrella. Past them, a dozen palms and he didn't know the names of any of them. Past that, the tall and unyielding shoulder of the mountain ridge between South Beach and the towns that stretched out to the north. Millwood. Rockwood. The university where he'd crashed and burned trying to build a wall between him and the bitch who had borne him. What do you take from your parents? What do you throw away? What do you keep? Why didn’t she realize that eventually, since he was definitely her son, he would turn around and bite her as hard as she had bitten him?

Eden stood there, staring at him – he could feel it. Come on, he thought, come back at me. Try to find the choke chain. Yank it. Something inside him…he almost hoped she wouldn't.

"You idiot," Eden hissed. "You think you can threaten me? You have no idea what you're dealing with! I’ll take you down and your family with you!”

Every kind of crazy thing flooded his mind - his children and Gayl and he hesitated. Could she...yeah she could. I'll get you my pretty and your little dog too. It snapped into place, all of it. He knew her. And he knew himself.

“Rafe!” she screamed. “You do not walk out on me!”

He shook his head, laughed, and kept on going. Decision made, done. He had an appointment to keep. The poem running through his head. Definitely an appointment to keep. And miles to go, miles to go before he could sleep.

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NEXT CHAPTER: South Beach 52