Free Dead Man's Rules by Rebecca Grace Page A

as she got. She preferred frilly dresses and patent leather Mary Janes.”
    He laughed, a rumbling sound that caught hold of Cere’s senses and held them. “Actually I was thinking she was brave.”
    His comment provided a perfect opening. “You’re talking about the night we visited the Palladium?” She turned to Freeda. “He’s the boy who took us out there.”
    Freeda stared at him for a minute as recognition came into her eyes. “Chico! We both had crushes on you.”
    He lowered his eyes, lashes flickering across his cheek. “You had to be ten years old.”
    “I was twelve,” Cere corrected, wishing she could kick her cousin. “That night scared the hell out of us.”
    He laughed, a warm rich sound that shook her insides worse than the thought of ghosts. He sat back on his seat. “Is that why you called me? To see if I remembered that night?”
    Cere toyed with her fork, deciding how to proceed. She lifted her eyes to his, offering him the smile she used to win over reluctant interview subjects. “I was serious. I want to do a story on Marco Gonzales.”
    “She’s gotta do it.” Freeda began to giggle. “That ghost is after her.”
    His smile grew stiff and he shook his head. “Sorry, but you won’t get any information from me.”
    “I read a story in the Santa Fe paper that quoted you,” Cere said. “You spoke to Gary Riggins. Why not me?”
    A sudden shadow crossed his face and his dark eyes glittered. “I realized I made a mistake. I’m sorry the story got written.”
    Despite the reluctant tone, Cere refused to back down. She met his steely gaze. “Do you ever go out there?”
    “To chase kids away. The place is ready to fall.”
    Perhaps the time had come to try another approach, the understanding reporter. “You’re quite the protector,” she said with her most brilliant smile, pointing at his badge. “My mother, kids…”
    He seemed to relax too as his lashes lowered like a dark feather and he winked. “I suppose you could say that. But what can I say? It’s my role in life. The kind of guy I am.”
    His lopsided grin made her insides perform a wild flip. Was he flirting? Under the table, Freeda tapped her shin with a quick kick. She obviously thought so, but Cere wanted to warn him off trying to charm her. He’d matured into a fine looking man, but she didn’t have time in her busy life for a small town sheriff. Still, she wasn’t going to discourage him… not yet.
    “You should help her,” Freeda said.
    The sheriff looked from one to the other with a puzzled smile. “Why?”
    “I told you. Marco the ghost is asking her for help. She has to report on it, or he’ll keep stalking her.”
    Rafe jerked upright and put down his coffee cup with a thump. “That’s not funny.” He could tell from the startled look on Cere’s face that she was dismayed by her cousin’s comments. She turned and muttered something to Freeda as Josie provided a welcome break, arriving with fresh coffee.
    Cere’s quick smile of thanks sent an unsettling awareness surging through him. Until the subject of Marco came up, he’d enjoyed the conversation. Freeda was off the wall, but Cere…
    He drew a deep breath, shaking off the unwelcome sensations that invaded his body. This wasn’t healthy. What the hell was he doing? Flirting with her? No, he was being preachy, as his mother put it. Was that the impression he wanted to give her?
    He’d been prepared to dislike her from the moment she marched into the café, giving off that brittle, “look at me, I’m gorgeous and rich” look. Having dealt with pampered and spoiled women for years, he pegged her as the type to expect everything to revolve around her.
    When she turned her attention to him with unexpected force, she’d nailed him to the wall. No, it was more like a bug pinned to a scrapbook page.
    It wasn’t as though Cere would be interested in him. She probably dated lawyers, doctors, or rich business types.
    He glanced at Freeda who had