Rafe’s shoulders stiffened as he walked toward the mansion next door along the short-cut in back of the house. Star Island was small, and exclusive. Rafe knocked on Peter Morgan's door as his mind raced with “I'm sorry”. He had no other words to say to a man whose fiancée’s plane had crashed into the ocean and was now missing. If he lost anyone he loved, he'd never be the same. As the door opened, he widened his eyes in surprise. "Mom?"
His mother smiled and twirled around in her soft gray and clearly designer uniform. "Peter Morgan is in his study."
He pressed his lips together as he stepped into the foyer. "What are you doing here? You retired."
"Caro started her new job with Victoria Morgan, and Peter needed a housekeeper. I refused to let him go without proper help."
Yes, he remembered that his sister had quit her position as maid to work in fashion as a designer. She loved clothes,; it made sense. That didn't mean his mother should take over as the hired help, again. He stayed silent.
His mother crossed her arms, ready for an argument. "Peter needed a new maid and honestly I missed working, mi’ja."
A loud sigh escaped his lips. His mother obviously didn't see this as a bad thing. She never had. He glanced at her legs and shook his head. "You shouldn't be on your feet."
She waved her hands in the air like he was wrong. "I'm perfectly healthy. Come, let's get you to Peter."
"I don't want you toiling away, working so hard now. You're not young anymore."
“He’s repositioned most of the staff and didn’t keep good housekeepers.” His mother shrugged her shoulders. "Peter has agreed that I will be managing his house staff, once again, and I'm to hire someone else to do all the physically demanding portions of the job. He wants someone in charge he can trust and I need to make sure he has the proper help."
No one was more trustworthy than his mother. If she took her old job again, then he hoped she’d negotiated as she said. She had practically raised Peter, Victoria and John as their mother was thought dead and their father was always working. "Are you sure you want to be here every day, Mom?"
"Si." She pushed his shoulders, hurrying him down the hall. "Now go help him find his missing bride. I have every faith that she'll be found alive and well."
The police and the coast guard were not the same branches of government. He had little to do with any investigation from his position as detective with Miami PD, but he straightened his shirt, stalling. Then he knocked on the open door where he saw Peter sitting on the sofa. "Hello, sir."
Peter Morgan stood and turned. "Peter, Rafe. You can call me by my name."
Yes, they’d gone to high school together and his mother had him here often as a child, and he had played tag and other silly childish games with John and Peter. But he needed to keep his emotional distance. He was the son of the maid, not one of the golden heirs. He held his head higher. "Mr. Morgan."
Peter slumped in his seat, again, and held his head. "Sounds like you're addressing my father and not me. Please sit down."
Rafe tugged the seat closer to the coffee table and left his phone on the table between them. "I’m not here in official capacity. I just want to offer my assistance, or condolences, or whatever you might need."
Peter dropped his hand from his forehead. "If you want to retire and be the head of Morgan security, I'll quadruple your salary."
Then he'd work for the Morgans. Someone in his family had to walk a different path. "That's a lot of zeros, but let's not discuss it right now. I spoke to the coast guard..."
Peter sat on the edge of his seat. "And?"
"They located the wreckage." Rafe read hope in Peter’s eyes that Belle was alive. He hated this part of his job. "I advised Morgan security team that the coast guard might not have the man power to pull the wreckage from the ocean. I suggest having them on standby."
Peter scooted away and back into his seat. "Thank you."
Not easy news. "The second I hear anything, I'll call."
"Excellent." Rafe’s phone rang. Peter gazed at the number and then his eyes widened. "It seems my sister is calling you."
"Huh?" He had just left Elizabeth's. His car was still there, but he'd leave soon. He hoped he hadn't blocked her in, but then she had that huge driveway.
Peter picked up the phone and handed it to him. "Your phone is ringing. Elizabeth is calling for you."
His face felt hot. He hoped he hadn't blushed. Elizabeth had been right to tell him to keep it quiet. Peter might realize that he was in no way good enough for Liz. He pressed the phone to his ear and tried to keep his voice normal. "Hello?"
Her voice trembled. "Rafe, come back."
He remembered how broken she’d seemed the other night. He had wanted to hold her tight. He stood and walked to the other side of the room. He felt Peter stare at him, but he didn't offer an explanation. "Why? What happened?"
Her voice cracked as she spoke. "The phone message. Someone wants money or the next time they will kill Brandon."
His stomach twisted like he’d been stabbed. No one would touch any of them while his heart beat inside his chest. His legs widened in his stance as he lifted his chin. "I'll be right over."
Then he turned around and noticed that Peter Morgan, her brother, stood with his arms crossed. "What's happening?"
There was always a threat against this family. It must come with the billions of dollars. He took the same stance as Peter and decided he had to tell him. "Someone's threatened your sister. I'm heading over there now."
Peter took a step to follow. "I'll come with you."
“No.” Right now it was important that he speak to Elizabeth without anyone else influencing her. Witnesses were best if they spoke to cops first as they gave the most details then. At least that's what he told himself. This had nothing to do with holding Elizabeth, which he couldn’t do in front of Peter. "Let me investigate first? Can you give me half an hour to get all the facts?"
Peter stopped and glanced around the house as if looking for Belle. "Okay. I'll get my mother and meet you over there."
"Thanks." A half an hour wasn't a long time, but it gave him a few minutes alone with Elizabeth. He straightened his shoulders and walked out. Sienna wasn’t a threat. The original kidnappers were dead, but someone else was involved. He needed to find them, fast. No one would hurt his son.
On the path to the house next door, his heart raced. She had sounded so scared and it took him longer to get to her than he hoped. Sweat broke out on his spine which never happened. Unlike everyone and every case that he worked before, this time was different.
It felt like hours but it was probably less than minute later when he knocked on her door. She swung it open and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Rafe."
He rocked her and smelled her vanilla skin. "What happened?"
A sigh came out of her lips and then she pulled away, bringing him inside. "The voice mail someone left. Listen to it."
He closed the door. Liz walked across the room and grabbed her phone. Her hands shook as she handed it to him. He placed his hand on her back as he listened to the message. Despite the cold wind that raced up him, he stood tall and sure. He turned it off and stared at her white face. "The voice is garbled. Can I take your phone for now?"
She nodded her head as she took shallow breaths. "Sure. Keep it. I just need Brandon to be safe."
"We'll make sure nothing happens to him." Their son was why he was here. It wasn't how her blue eyes haunted him, or the memory of how she bit her lip as he removed her bra washed over him. He blinked. "Where is he?"
"He's napping..." She pointed toward the baby monitor. "See?"
He wanted to wrap her in his arms again and promise to watch out for her. He held absolutely still as clearly his thoughts were so unlike him that he couldn't function right. "Liz, you have the best security here."
She shook her head and grabbed his hand. "None of them helped me get Brandon back. I need you."
"Stay calm, Liz." The truth was he needed to be calm. If he acted on his wants, then so many of his rules went out the window.
She squeezed his hands tighter. "I need you. I went through hell; I can't do that again."
The scent of vanilla washed over him as he reached around her and hugged her close. "This time you have me."
Her hands burrowed around his waist. Her breath near his neck warmed his skin. "What does that mean?"
Every cell in his body told him to kiss her, but he couldn't. He had to remember her last name was Morgan and that she was the last person to involve himself with. The softness of her skin rattled his brain like a memory. "It means I won't let anything happen to you or to our son."
She licked her lips and his skin jolted like she might kiss him. "You'll protect us. I feel better when you say that."
He couldn't hug her anymore without the ability to kiss her like he had in Vegas so he kept his distance. He took her hands and stared into her eyes. "With my life if I have to."
Her skin was still white though her cheeks had some color. "How will you do that? In the middle of the night someone might come and take Brandon from me again."
Something snapped inside him. He knew what he had to do. He had vacation time saved up and could take a leave of absence. "No, they won't. I'll be here."
She blinked as her eyes widened. "You will?"
"I'll move in, if you'll have me." He'd take the job her brother offered and be her personal body guard for however long this took. No one was going to hurt Elizabeth or his son. They were too important.
Her eyes watered. "I'd love that.”
He wiped her eyes as the doorbell rang. Before they broke their connection, though, he whispered, "Consider it done. I'll get my things."