The Perfect Murder (42 page)

After subduing her long enough to bind and gag her, he'd disappeared. But he'd returned almost immediately, this time with a white van he left idling beside her Camry while he dragged her from one vehicle to the other.

Jane vaguely remembered him using her cell phone to call Sebastian. Then a torrent of memories descended--what he'd said on the phone and how explosively he'd reacted when she'd tried to tell Sebastian not to listen. It hurt to move her jaw.

The way her cheekbone throbbed made her wonder if he'd broken bones in her face. Her right eye was so swollen she couldn't completely open it.

Had she escaped Oliver only to die at the hands of the man who'd killed Marcie? If she was murdered today, what would happen to Kate? Would Wendy raise her?

God, no--please, no.
She could imagine the many small ways Wendy might torture Kate for mistakes that had nothing to do with her. Wendy wouldn't do it intentionally, of course. She was basically a decent person, and had once been someone Jane admired very much. But the hurt and resentment that had festered 297

since Noah's death would eventually manifest itself. Jane felt sure of it. Problem was, she didn't want Kate to live with the Burkes, either. They were too old to be raising children.

Kate needed her mother. Which meant Jane's only option was to get out of this alive. As frightened as she was, as unsure as she felt of her own ability to withstand this fresh onslaught of terror, she had to dig deep, think quick, act brave.

She looked at the tattoo on her hand. She saw no answers there, but she did see a reminder of who she was. She'd been through this before and survived it. She would survive again. For Kate's sake. For Sebastian. Finally, she had a chance at happiness. She wasn't going to let someone like Malcolm take that away.

"Hey, you coming around back there?" Malcolm hollered.

Jane hadn't expected him to speak to her. He'd seemed too absorbed in his thoughts and the music.

With a tortured sigh, she laid her throbbing head on her arms.

When she didn't answer, he turned around to see her. She could hear the difference in the volume of his voice. "How you feeling?"

"Like I've been beaten up by a loser with no conscience," she muttered.

"That's funny," he said. "You're a real comedian. But maybe you should show some respect and just be glad you weren't killed by that 'loser.' It's not too late for me to change my mind, you know."

She knew that very well. But if he hadn't killed her already, he was keeping her alive for a reason.

"What are you doing, Malcolm?" Her tone suggested he was nothing more than a recalcitrant child. She wasn't about to give him the pleasure of revealing how much he frightened her.

"You know what I'm doing. I'm using you to get to Sebastian. I'm tired of his bullshit. We're going to get this over with once and for all. And then I'll be free."

"Maybe you'll kill Sebastian. Maybe you'll kill me, too. But you won't be free. Your actions will be with you every day of your life. My partners at The Last Stand won't rest until they track you down and put you in jail. It will
never
be over."

"Don't try to scare me," he said. "I outsmarted the entire police department back in Jersey. I can certainly handle three broads running a two-bit charity. They wouldn't find me. No one will." He laughed triumphantly. "Sebastian wouldn't have been able to follow me to Sacramento if I hadn't been stupid enough to trust 298

Mary. And I never would've gotten back at him if he hadn't been stupid enough to trust Constance. It's trust that gets you into trouble every damn time. If you don't trust anyone, you don't have anything to worry about."

"If you don't trust anyone, you don't really have a life," she told him. "You might go through the motions, but it doesn't mean anything." She groaned as if trying to get more comfortable, but she was really testing the handcuffs. Was there any way to slip her hands out?

No, they were so tight they were cutting into her wrists. The pole was solid, too. Even if she used all her strength, she wouldn't be able to bend or break it. She was trussed up like a turkey, completely powerless as they hurtled closer and closer to the fate Malcolm had planned for her. "Believe me, I know about trust,"

she added.

"You sound jaded."

"I've got good reason to be."

"Yeah, well, don't we all."

Where was her cell phone? Malcolm had taken it. He'd grabbed it from her right before plunging his fist into her face. Or maybe he'd hit her with something other than his fist? She hadn't actually seen a weapon, but it'd felt more like a baseball bat.

"What would make you forget about Sebastian?" she asked.

He laughed out loud. "Now you're trying to bargain with me?"

"You've already killed his son. Isn't that enough?"

"Colton was just like his father. He deserved it."

"Colton was a
child.
"

"Shut up! I don't want to talk to you anymore!"

She pushed against the back doors with her feet. Maybe he hadn't locked them properly. "You'd be smarter to toss me out on the side of the road and take off while you can."

"I'm not leaving until you're both dead."

Those words brought back the fear. His intentions were unmistakable. And no matter how hard she pressed on the doors, they wouldn't budge. There was no way to free herself, no way out. "You won't get away with it," she said. But with every passing mile, it looked more and more as if he would.

Sebastian had dropped Kate off at Jane's in-laws and was racing through the 299

countryside in his Pontiac. The police still had possession of the Lexus. He was getting charged for both cars, but that was the least of his worries right now. He hadn't called the cops about what was going on, but it wasn't because Malcolm had warned him not to. He planned to text David once he reached the house. He had the message all typed out. He just needed to buy himself a little time first. He couldn't afford to have the police take control before he was ready, and he knew if he involved them they'd do exactly that. He was only a civilian. They'd tell him to stay out of the way. But he couldn't trust them to save Jane. David cared about her, but not as much as Sebastian did. This was between him and the man who'd already killed his son. He'd known it would come down to this eventually....

But that didn't mean he wasn't second-guessing himself with every passing minute. As he drove closer to the ranch, he also grew more inclined to call David before he got there. Was he overestimating his abilities?

He didn't think so, but maybe he was no longer capable of being objective.

He kept recalling the moment he'd laid eyes on the cold body of his son. Colton and Emily had been killed before Sebastian had even realized they were facing a serious problem. He wouldn't let that happen again. Ever. Not to anyone he loved.

He'd save Jane if he had to sacrifice his own life to do it. A cop could give her no more.

The gun he normally carried under his seat rested in his lap. He was willing to use it if he had to--but he knew a weapon was no guarantee. Malcolm would have a gun, too.

So how would he get Jane out of the house before all hell broke loose?

He'd try to outsmart the son of a bitch.

The ranch house came up on his right. Slowing to a crawl, he found the driveway and inched forward, eventually parking to the left of a white van. Except for a single porch light, the place was dark. Malcolm had made it impossible for Sebastian to see inside.

But Sebastian had chosen the perfect parking spot; Malcolm couldn't see him, either. He wasn't about to march up to the front door. If Malcolm could get off a clean shot, take him down that easily, he'd do it. Then there'd be no reason for him to keep Jane alive.

After sending David the text, he left his keys in the ignition so Jane could drive it if he was lucky enough to get her out of the house, and he went around to the trunk. There, he peeled off his coat and strapped on a bulletproof vest he'd 300

bought over the Internet several months ago. He had a flashlight in the trunk, too, as well as a pair of infrared goggles and an army helmet to strap it to. Twelve months of preparation had come down to this.

Although the temperature felt like it was dropping fast, Sebastian put his coat in the trunk. He didn't want to wear anything that might restrict his movements. He had too much adrenaline pouring through him to be bothered by the cold, anyway. "This is it," he promised himself. "This is where it ends."

After stuffing ammunition in every pocket, he closed the trunk with a quiet click. Then he crouched with his gun at the ready and began working his way to the back of the house.

301

Twenty-Nine

M
alcolm stood to the side of the living room window. He'd seen the car slow, then turn down the driveway, watched as the headlights drew closer. He'd been tempted to shoot at that vehicle. Maybe he could hit the driver before this went any further. But he knew he might just shatter the window and scare Sebastian off before he could get him in the house.

He had to bide his time, wait for the right moment.... But his nerves were stretching taut. The forensics team that had been processing the house was gone, as he'd expected. They wouldn't be coming back tonight because there was no reason to think he'd return, but there was plenty of proof that they'd been here. Fingerprint dust and Luminol covered everything. What it revealed made Malcolm anxious to be on his way. The bloodstains on the carpet going down the hall and into his bedroom were the perfect shape of his footprints. He could see them fluoresce in the darkness and hated Latisha for forcing him to allow so much evidence to fall into the hands of the authorities.

"So what?" He told himself to keep a cool head. He couldn't get back at everyone. He'd take care of Sebastian and Jane, the two people who really mattered. Then he'd get the hell out of town and disappear for good.

Jane groaned. Apparently, she realized that lover boy was here. Whether she truly believed it or not, Sebastian was about to meet his maker, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. Malcolm had tied her to a chair--gagged her, too.

When Sebastian didn't immediately show himself, he put a gun to her head. "You'd better hope he doesn't try anything funny."

As they waited, Malcolm could feel sweat matting Jane's hair. Maybe she acted tough, but she was scared. She had reason to be. If he could, Malcolm planned to blow her away right in front of Sebastian. Maybe he'd even rape her first, take from Sebastian what Sebastian had taken from him. There wasn't enough he could do to torture the man he hated above all others.

He imagined wounding Sebastian, then tying him up so he could have all kinds of fun with them both. Maybe he'd slit Jane's wrists and rape her while she bled out at Sebastian's feet.

302

Malcolm smiled at the thought of making her moan and writhe in pain while Sebastian looked on, helpless to stop him. "Relax, sweetheart." He smoothed her hair when she began to tremble. "This will all be over in a minute."

Where the hell was Sebastian? Leaving Jane a few feet away, Malcolm leaned against the cold window, trying to discern the shadows over by the cars.

Before his breath fogged up the glass, he could see fairly well. But he couldn't make out the shape of a man. There was no sound, either. No movement.

"You're pissing me off, asshole," he sang out, and Jane whimpered. "You get it," he told her. "You know he's pushing my buttons, don't you? I'm going to punish you both for that."

Then he heard a bang loud enough to wake the dead. He jumped at the sudden noise, relaxing only when he figured out what had caused it. Sebastian had just kicked in the back door. He was in the house.

Taking a calming breath, he turned Jane's chair in the other direction and stood behind it, his gun to her temple. The show was about to begin.

Jane's heart pounded in her throat as she silently prayed.
Please don't let him
be killed.
Please don't let him be killed. She didn't think she could take seeing Sebastian shot down--not after finding Noah, the only other man she'd ever really loved, lying dead. She'd asked Sebastian to stay away,
wanted
him to stay away, despite what it meant for her. But she knew that the man who'd approached that Ione house like a member of the local SWAT team wouldn't play it safe. If she had her bet, Sebastian hadn't even called the cops.

What did that mean?

It meant someone wouldn't walk away from this tonight. That someone could be Sebastian, or it could be her, or it could be both of them.

Only if they were extremely lucky would it be Malcolm.

Determined to make sure that Sebastian knew where the danger was, Jane began to grunt and moan as loudly as possible.

"Shut up!" Malcolm hissed and hit her with his pistol, once, twice, three times.

Pain ignited with each blow. She could feel blood rolling into her eyes, but she wouldn't stop. Malcolm wouldn't kill her. Not yet. She was Malcolm's insurance policy--and Sebastian's handicap.

303

Following the muted sounds from the living room, Sebastian found what he was looking for. But he didn't enter the room. He used the kitchen door as a shield against any bullets that might fly toward him.

With his infrared goggles, he could see Malcolm standing behind Jane, who was tied to a chair. He would've squeezed off a shot himself, but he couldn't shoot in that direction, because he couldn't risk hurting the wrong person.

"Let her go," he said.

Malcolm was so angry, Sebastian could hear him wheeze with each gulp of air. "The stupid bitch!" he was yelling. "I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill you both, so help me God."

"You're going to need someone's help," Sebastian told him. "Because if she's dead--you are, too."

"She's not dead," he cried and lifted her head by the hair. "Say something!"

he screamed at her.

Jane groaned and her eyelids fluttered open, but she seemed confused, dazed. And she was obviously bleeding. The sight of her injuries made every muscle in Sebastian's body tense. Malcolm had beaten her. Sebastian hadn't expected that. He'd expected Malcolm to care too much about getting to him to risk hurting her.