The Perfect Murder (18 page)

"Don't underestimate him," he said. "Maybe it isn't my concern, but if he's someone you met through The Last Stand...you should be cautious. The people we come into contact with aren't typically the type of people you'd want to date."

"I know. But some of them are worth risking a relationship. You met Zoe through TLS."

"True, but her child had been abducted. That's not the same."

"Of course it is," she said. "She has to rebuild her trust just like Skye and me and anyone else who's ever been violated. You think I don't know that I have to be careful? I understand the risks we face. That's the problem. That's why last night was the first time I've been with a man in five freakin' years!" Her voice was getting shrill but she couldn't seem to gain control of it. "Can't I shake off the past just once and spend the night with a guy simply because I want to? Can't I forget about danger for a few minutes and act as if I don't have to doubt every single person I meet?"

Finally, she caught herself. This wasn't what she wanted to tell Jonathan.

This wasn't what she wanted to tell anyone. "I'm sorry," she said. "Ignore me. I...I made a mistake, that's all."

"Jane?"

"What?"

"You'll get beyond Oliver."

She didn't realize she was crying until the tears fell from her chin. Frustrated by her inability to stanch the emotions last night had churned up, she swiped an impatient hand across her wet cheeks and tried to swallow the lump that threatened to choke her. "Yeah, I will." She continued to backpedal, pretending to believe she'd eventually recover, but she had no idea if she really would. Relationships were complicated enough without throwing her background into the mix.

Jonathan's voice lightened, as if he hoped to tease her out of her current mood. "I hope it was fun, at least."

She wasn't even tempted to smile. "It should've been." She couldn't imagine 132

he'd want to challenge that candid an answer, so she went right on. "I'll give Luther a call, see what he wanted."

"Whatever you do, keep your distance from him," Jonathan warned. "Meth, or whatever he's using, makes people crazy."

Loneliness could make people crazy, too, if last night was anything to judge by. "I will," she said, pouring her coffee down the sink. It was cold and she didn't have time for another cup. What did it matter that she'd slept with Sebastian? Or whether she'd enjoyed it? Latisha and Marcie were still missing. They were the ones with the real problem. She needed to get going, work harder to find them.

"And on that other issue, you know the cliche," Jonathan added.

From his tone she guessed he was referring to what she'd done with Sebastian. "What cliche?"

"You gotta get back on the, er, horse."

The metaphor brought a smile to Jane's lips. "Sometimes it's better not to ride at all. Sometimes it's smarter to stay out of the way of flying hooves."

"Depends on the horse." He disconnected, and she chuckled as she went in search of her purse.

133

Twelve

A
clap of thunder woke Sebastian. After the initial boom, it rolled across the sky loudly enough to shake the whole building and was soon joined by an onslaught of wind and rain.

"What a morning," he grumbled. It was still early; he felt like going back to sleep. Especially when his first thought was of Jane--and the disappointment and frustration that had resulted from their lovemaking. He couldn't help feeling he'd let her down. She'd summoned the courage and trust to return to his room, and he hadn't been able to deliver what she wanted. She wasn't sexually liberated enough to take advantage of being in charge. Not after five years of celibacy. Not after what she'd been through. He should've thought of that, should've realized she actually needed him to take the lead. He would've slipped into that role if he hadn't been so afraid of spooking her.

What she needed was a happy medium between aggressiveness and restraint.

He could see that now. But at the time, he'd been feeling his way through the experience, too. He'd never made love to a woman who'd been viciously attacked by a stranger, let alone by the man who was supposed to love her and protect her above all others.

He wondered how Emily would've reacted to the violence of having been shot had she survived....

When he considered it in those terms, he had to admit Jane was recovering quite well. She'd been attacked in a brutal, very personal fashion. Yet she was standing her ground, battling her fears. That alone told him she was a brave woman.

He wished last night had brought her some comfort, some satisfaction.

"Live and learn," he said aloud. Too gentle was almost as unfulfilling as too rough. He instinctively understood that, but he'd made an exception for Jane.

In an attempt to put her out of his head, he showered and checked his voice mail. But he didn't have any messages and his chores offered little distraction.

While he was working, part of his brain kept replaying that moment when her tongue had first touched his and sent his heart racing. He hadn't been so aroused in 134

ages....

The phone interrupted his thoughts. Halfway hoping it would be Jane, he picked up. "Hello?"

"Sebastian?"

It wasn't Jane; it was Constance. His disappointment surprised him--and confirmed that he wasn't himself anymore. Didn't he
want
to reconcile with his girlfriend? Maybe she didn't seem vital to him now, but she would at some point.

At this rate, he'd have to rebuild every aspect of his life.

And yet he'd rather speak to a woman he'd met yesterday, a woman with whom he had no future, a woman who'd left him feeling off-balance.

"Yes?" he said into the phone.

"You haven't called."

He'd just sat down and booted up his computer, but at the sulkiness in her voice, he pushed away from the desk and stared at the rain sliding down the window. "You told me it was over."

"And you were willing to leave it at that?"

"I thought it was what you wanted, what would make you happiest."

"I was angry."

"And now?"

"I'm still angry. But...I'm not sure I can give up on us."

Sebastian had no idea how he felt about their relationship anymore, how he felt about
her.
Was it fair to let her believe things would go back to the way they were before? He'd drifted so far from the man he used to be; he doubted she even knew him anymore. And what about last night? Once he told her he'd been intimate with another woman, they'd have more problems. Constance was nothing if not intensely jealous.

"Malcolm is within reach, Connie," he said. "I can feel it."

"I think you might be right."

Her sudden reversal surprised him.
"What?"

"Someone called late last night, Sebastian, at about 2:00 a.m."

"Who?"

"A man. He wouldn't give his name."

He gazed out at the overcast sky. "What'd he say?"

"He asked for you."

Below, puddles formed in any depression, mirroring the gloom overhead.

135

"Did you get the number he was calling from?"

"I couldn't. It was blocked."

"What'd you tell him?"

"I said we broke up, that you were at your condo. But I don't think he believed me."

"Why not?"

"He said, 'Then why the fuck doesn't he answer?' and hung up. He was...enraged. I could feel the hate coming through the phone. It was weird."

Trying to absorb what that call, and the emotion of the caller, could mean, Sebastian looked over at the parking space where he'd found Jane crying. He wished he could have last night to do over again.... "You think it was Malcolm?"

he said.

When Constance replied her voice was softer than it had been in a long while. "Yes."

Sebastian had immediately considered the possibility, but he had Malcolm on his mind 24/7. He'd never expected Constance to suspect a man she believed was dead.

Or maybe she simply
wanted
to believe he was dead--so Sebastian would come home and they could get on with their lives.

"It sounded just like him," she went on with a degree of acceptance.

Lightning flashed in his peripheral vision before another crack of thunder rumbled overhead. "Are you sure? You only talked to Malcolm occasionally."

"I talked to him enough to recognize his voice! I picked up Colton for you several times. Or have you forgotten?"

He hadn't forgotten. He'd wanted her to get to know his son, to see how they'd interact. He'd been on the verge of asking her to marry him--they'd been that close--which was why he couldn't believe he felt so indifferent to her now.

"He always made it a point to answer the door and harass me," she was saying. "He'd clarify the time we'd be bringing Colton home, ask what we were planning to do with him--as if he had any right to approve or disapprove. He'd also inform me when Colton had homework so he wouldn't be 'saddled' with it. Or he'd say we needed to get Colton a physical for sports or have his teeth checked or whatever. Don't you remember? He passed off every chore he could, especially the ones that cost money, although you were already paying an exorbitant amount of child support."

136

As long as it was for Colton, Sebastian hadn't minded. His son had meant everything to him. Sometimes he'd even sent a little extra for Emily. He had no problem buying her a new dress or a meal out so she wouldn't have to account to Malcolm for the expense. Why would he? She was the mother of his child. The happier she was, the happier his son would be.

What he wouldn't give to have the option to overpay her again....

Clenching his teeth, he pressed his forehead to the cool glass. "He always had something to say." It hadn't been easy having another man tell him how to raise his son. That, more than anything, made Sebastian regret ever allowing his marriage to end. If only he hadn't been so caught up in work during those early years. He'd been far too driven. With the hours he'd spent at the office, it was almost inevitable that Emily would get involved with someone else. She needed love, attention. He'd neglected her, yet he'd felt so angry, so betrayed, that he hadn't been able to forgive her until it was too late.

"You hated it."

"I did. All of it." Because he'd been such a poor husband himself, his son had ended up living with a stepfather no one liked. And Emily had felt trapped.

She didn't want to "fail" again. But she'd been afraid of Malcolm....

Sebastian wished he'd given those fears more credence. But his father had needed constant care during the years she was first with Malcolm, and once his dad had died and he'd managed to forgive her, he was accustomed to the situation. He'd passed along a few bucks to ease the financial strain, hoping that would help, but he'd never expected it to end the way it did. The fact that Malcolm was a cop--that he loved being a cop--had convinced Sebastian that Emily's husband was basically a good guy. Sebastian had thought he was just rigid and difficult to deal with on a personal level.

Even after so long, he was shocked by how wrong he'd been.

"So you finally agree that Malcolm is alive?" he asked.

"Now I do. It was him. Who else would be calling here in the middle of the night?"

Sebastian had no idea. But it was a relief to hear Constance acknowledge the possibility that Malcolm was still among the living. Until now, only his mother and, to a point, Mary--had believed him.

"Should I e-mail him? Let him know it was me?"

"You have his e-mail address?"

137

"It was on those transcripts you sent me."

"No. I can't afford to spook him. But why would he be looking for me?" he asked, but he could guess. Malcolm was tempted to see Mary this weekend, more tempted than he'd ever been to let someone from his former life know he was alive.

But he was scared, too--scared enough to be searching for signs of trouble.

"Maybe he realizes you're on to him. Maybe he feels you're getting close."

Lightning illuminated a few souls determined to brave the weather. At nearly eight o'clock in the morning, it was still dark enough that they had to use their headlights. One pair flipped on, then another.

"It's possible," he said. It wasn't as if Sebastian had kept his search a secret.

He'd flown all over the country tracking down everyone Malcolm had ever known, including Malcolm's first wife. If Malcolm had been in touch with any of them, he'd probably been told that Sebastian was asking questions. Malcolm had contacted Mary, hadn't he? Perhaps he'd contacted someone else, too--someone who'd heard what he'd done but didn't quite trust the news. Or someone who was willing to accept any denials Malcolm had to offer.

"Do you think he checked with the bank?" she asked.

"That would be my guess." Sebastian couldn't believe that Malcolm would call Constance first, that he'd let her hear his voice when there were easier ways to get information. Lincoln Hawke Financial, the bank where he worked, was holding his position open, despite the topsy-turvy economy. Had Malcolm called there, he might've been told that Sebastian was still an employee. Or, depending on whom he'd spoken to, he might've been told that Sebastian hadn't been in for more than a year.

What would Malcolm make of such a long absence?

"I'm nervous," Constance said. "If he's afraid you're on to him, there's no telling what he'll do."

Turning away from the window, Sebastian went back to his computer. "It'll blow the meeting this weekend, that's for sure."

"I'm not worried about the meeting--I'm worried about your safety!" she cried. "He's already killed two people and gotten away with it. If he thinks you're on to him, he might decide to get rid of
you!
"

"I'm prepared for that."

"How do you prepare for being shot?"

"By knowing how to shoot back. After all the time I've spent at the range, 138

I'm not bad."

"But he could use this meeting with Mary to set you up. You might go there thinking you've got him, and it could be exactly the opposite."

Maybe, but he'd never been this close to catching the man who'd killed his son. This could be his only opportunity. "Then we'll see who outsmarts whom."