The Perfect Murder

by Brenda Novak

  Popping the locks, he reached across to open the door. “Climb in.”

  “Circle around,” she said. “I gotta get my purse from inside.”

  “What do you need your purse for?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I always provide the condom. That’s the one rule I won’t break, so take it or leave it, eh?”

  He studied her. She wasn’t like Latisha, wasn’t half as sweet. He almost drove off and left her. He wasn’t going to let a woman—least of all a gutter-grade whore—act as if she had even a hint of control. But none of the other girls he’d passed had dark skin. Since Latisha, he needed dark skin to get excited.

  When he came around the corner again, she was waiting for him as promised, posing to make the most of her limited assets.

  “You gonna be sorry,” he mimicked when he drove up, but he said nothing loudly enough for her to hear. He just opened the door and she got in.

  “You mind if I call you Latisha?” he asked.

  She chomped her gum. “Say what?”

  “Your name during our time together will be Latisha.”

  “Whatever gets you hard, baby. For the right price you can call me Mother Mary. So where we goin’?”

  “You know of a hotel close by?”

  Taking out her gum, she stuck it on a Styrofoam cup that’d been in his van for weeks. “You got a van. Can’t we park behind a building for a few minutes?”

  “It’ll take a bit longer than that.” Pulling out the bag of meth he’d purchased on the way over, he tossed it in her lap.

  A gleam of anticipation lit her eyes. “So this is gonna be a party.”

  “All night long, baby. And the dope’s free.”

  Twenty-Seven

  On Monday, Jane made herself go to the office after driving Kate to school. So many things had piled up while she’d been focused on finding Latisha. There was mail that needed to be sorted, calls waiting to be returned, projects she was overseeing that the volunteers still had to finish, banking to do. Normally, she stayed on top of the clerical stuff, but last week she’d been too busy.

  With Skye and Ava coming in this afternoon, she wanted to get caught up. They’d be more likely to let her take on her own cases if she was able to maintain her usual workflow until they could hire a part-timer to replace her.

  She managed to get a few things done, but she was having trouble concentrating, moving at only half-speed. Every now and then, she’d find herself staring off into space, thinking about Sebastian and the way they’d made love last night. Had she ever been this happy? She couldn’t have been. This relationship was so different from any of her others, so unexpected and yet…fulfilling. It could go bad; it could always go bad. But for now, it was perfect.

  Thoughts of Wendy occasionally crept in. Jane wondered if Sebastian’s words had made any difference—besides escalating her sister-in-law’s hatred.

  By the time the staff meeting came around, Jane was eager to see Skye, Ava and Sheridan but even more eager to see Sebastian. The day already seemed long. She preferred to be out looking for Malcolm, as David was doing, watching the casinos or calling his ex-wife and former friends to see if anyone had heard from him. She wanted to tell his family that he was alive, to enlist their support in the search. Although the DNA at the ranch house had yet to be analyzed, which would take a while, there was proof that he was still living, in the form of that handwriting expert’s report—at least, enough proof that the authorities should listen.

  Sebastian had sent her text messages throughout the day. He’d spent the morning calling every hotel and motel in town, asking for a Wesley Boss as well as a Malcolm Turner—but had found nothing. This afternoon, with David’s permission, he was out interviewing people who lived in the general vicinity of the ranch house where Malcolm had kept the girls. Sebastian thought he might find someone who’d spoken to Malcolm or befriended him in some way, someone who might have let him move in. But for all they knew, Malcolm was sleeping in his van. Once again, he seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.

  She heard someone unlock the back door. “Jane?”

  It was Skye. She’d arrived before Ava and Sheridan.

  Excited to see the person who’d saved her life and then helped her through the darkest period of it, Jane went to the reception area to greet her. Most of the volunteers had already left for the day, but there were two in Sheridan’s office, finishing up a big fundraising mailer. They poked their heads out to say hi, but when they went back to work, Jane and Skye stepped into the conference room for a few minutes alone.

  “It’s about time you came back,” Jane said. “It’s so great to see you.”

  “It’s good to be here.” After a tight hug, Skye held Jane at arm’s length. “You look fabulous.”

  “Stop it,” Jane said, laughing. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since you saw me. I look the same.”

  “No, you look better.” She lowered her voice. “You must have your groove back.”

  “Hi, everyone.” Ava peered into the conference room before Jane could respond. “Where’s Sheridan?”

  “She’s not here yet,” Jane told her.

  “Darn. I can’t wait to see the baby.” She turned to speak to the volunteers who’d once again come out to the reception area to say hello, then did a double-take when she focused on Jane again. “Wow, you look great!”

  Exasperated, Jane rolled her eyes. “That’s crazy. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

  Skye leaned close to Ava so the volunteers, who were already returning to work, wouldn’t hear. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s got her groove back.”

  “That has to be it,” Ava agreed as she took the chair next to Skye. “I heard about your new man.”

  They peppered her with questions until Sheridan arrived, and after that, the baby drew all the attention. Relieved to be out of the spotlight, Jane sat through the meeting, listening but adding little. She didn’t tell them about her case, didn’t mention wanting to take on more. She was reluctant to do anything that would make the meeting last longer. They’d be in tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that—there’d be plenty of time to discuss everything that had gone on during their absences.

  Although she loved seeing them all, she was glad when they left. One volunteer remained behind, a high-school boy named Rick who was trying to finish up the mailer, but he wasn’t planning on staying much longer. Neither was she. She had just one more meeting; her domestic-abuse victim would be in shortly.

  Then she could go home to Kate and Sebastian.

  Sebastian had come to California to catch a killer—and found a second family. As he sat at the pizza parlor with Kate, listening to her talk about her day and her friends and how badly she wanted a dog, he could hardly believe that so much had changed, and so fast! For the past twelve months, he’d been consumed with the thirst for revenge. In fact, he’d feared that if he ever found Malcolm, he’d become a killer himself. He’d almost welcomed it.

  But he didn’t feel like that anymore. He’d do the right thing because that was the only way he could protect Jane and Kate from suffering more than they already had. If he didn’t, he couldn’t be part of their lives.

  “Leonard asked me to go out with him today,” Kate said, acting shocked that this boy could have so much audacity.

  Sebastian hid a smile. He could see himself back in seventh grade, thinking Kate was cute, maybe even working up the nerve to see if she might like him. He’d never been particularly shy. “Where did he want you to go?” he asked, taking the question literally on purpose.

  She shook her head. “No, that just means…you know, that we’d be together.”

  He nodded. “Right. You’d go out together. But where?”

  “Stop it!” she giggled. “You know, he’d be my boyfriend.”

  “Oh! I see. So he won’t be borrowing his folks’ car and taking you to the movies or anything.”

  “No, silly.”

&nb
sp; “That’s good, because he has to be at least thirteen before I’d ever let you ride with him.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized how fatherly they sounded, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  “Thirteen?” she echoed.

  “And only if he can grow a mustache by then.”

  She continued to laugh. “Boys can’t grow a mustache at thirteen.”

  “Then you’d better tell him no.”

  “Really? You want me to say no?” She nibbled the crust of her second piece of pizza.

  It was hard for him to imagine that any boy could be worthy of her, but he figured he was being overprotective again. “That’d be my initial reaction. But I don’t know him,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “He’s kinda cute.”

  “Okay. I guess you could say yes—” Sebastian pushed his plate away “—if he’s willing to speak to me about his intentions.”

  She giggled again. “You’re funny.”

  He sobered as she pushed her plate away, too. “And you’re going to have a whole string of boys who’ll want to go out with you. Unless you really want to say yes, I say, what’s the rush?”

  “There is another boy I’d rather go out with.”

  “Then give him a chance, okay?” He slid from the booth. “You ready to go?”

  “I’m ready.” She took a final sip of her soda.

  “That stuff’ll kill ya, you know.”

  “I know, I know. My mom tells me that all the time,” she grumbled and started out ahead of him.

  Sebastian caught a glimpse of himself in the glass as they walked toward the exit. Damn, he’d let his hair get long. “Hey, you don’t know where I could get my hair trimmed while we wait for your mom, do you?”

  She paused at the door. “Mom’s a haircutter. She can do it. She does my hair.”

  “And it looks nice, but—” he checked his watch “—it’s only six. She said her appointment would take about half an hour. In the meantime, I thought I might as well get cleaned up.” He winked. “I want her to think I’m handsome, you know.”

  The blush that tinged Kate’s cheeks nearly made Sebastian burst out laughing. Kate’s personality was entirely different from Colton’s, but she possessed the same innocent charm. “I bet she already thinks you’re handsome,” she confided.

  He held the door for her. “So…will she say yes if I ask her to go out with me?”

  Her head pumped energetically. “I think so.”

  “What about you? Would you mind if we…you know…got together?”

  She stopped walking and gazed up at him. “Do you like me, too?”

  Her lack of artifice brought a lump to his throat. That was all she asked of him? He could certainly give her that. “Oh, I like you, all right,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you and your mom.”

  With an expression that showed her pleasure at his response, she slipped her hand in his, and Sebastian smiled as he opened the car door. Not only had he found a second family, he could feel something besides anger.

  He was pretty sure it was hope.

  Jane didn’t know how long to wait. It was six-thirty and her appointment hadn’t shown.

  She checked the Web site e-mail account as well as her personal account, which was the one she’d used to send her reply. Other than a brief confirmation of the appointment, sent late last night, she’d received no further communication.

  Maybe the woman’s husband had returned from his trip early, or something else had interrupted her. Or was the poor thing just too scared? Jane didn’t want to leave if her victim was battling traffic, still planning to come. But she also didn’t have any way to confirm that and didn’t want to waste any more time if she wasn’t coming.

  “I’ll give you fifteen more minutes,” she said aloud and gathered up the items she needed to put in her briefcase.

  “You talking to me?” Rick tapped the inside wall of her office as he looked in through her door.

  “No, I’m grumbling to myself,” she said. “My last appointment’s late.”

  “I saw someone pull in about ten minutes ago and circle the lot, but it was a guy.”

  “I’m definitely waiting for a woman.”

  “Okay, well, I’m out of here, and I’m taking the mailers with me. I know we’ve missed the post office for today, but I’ll ask my mom to take them over while I’m in school tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine, as long as she doesn’t mind.”

  “She won’t. She’s been talking about coming down here to volunteer herself. She thinks more people should get involved.”

  “We’d be glad to have her.” Jane moved around the desk. “Let me at least help you get the boxes into your car.”

  He waved her off. “Nah, I already did that. I just came in to say goodbye.”

  She returned to her seat. “Thanks, Rick. We really appreciate everything you do.”

  “No problem.” He pointed at the clock. “You gonna wait any longer?”

  It was now 6:35 p.m. “Another ten minutes,” she said. If that e-mail hadn’t sounded so desperate, Jane might’ve left. But she wanted to offer this poor woman every chance she could.

  Standing in the alley, Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief as the beater Mustang turned into the street. He’d been afraid he’d given himself away. Hoping to figure out which car was Jane’s, he’d cruised through the lot one too many times—and nearly ran over a tall, gangly kid who suddenly emerged from the building carrying what looked like a heavy box. Rather than act suspicious, Malcolm had stopped and smiled and gestured him across the blacktop, but he worried that the boy had somehow sensed that he wasn’t supposed to be there and gone back inside to alert Jane.

  Apparently, he hadn’t done anything of the sort. He’d loaded his car and driven off. Now there was only one vehicle in the lot, and Malcolm had no trouble guessing who it belonged to. Jane had confirmed the meeting he’d requested when he posed as the unfortunate victim of spousal abuse. She had to be here, waiting for her appointment. He’d been watching the place since six. She wouldn’t have left before that.

  When the sound of the Mustang had faded away, he peered around the corner. The exterior lights had come on about the time he’d arrived. They were brighter and more plentiful than he’d expected; obviously, someone was worried about security. But the extra light wouldn’t be a problem because Jane’s car was parked in a shadowy spot, and he’d been lucky enough to find her alone. No one would see him get into her car. There was no one around. He’d keep one hand on the latch, and if she spotted him as she was climbing in, he’d be able to get to her before she could summon help.

  With a quick glance in both directions, he stepped out of the alley and crossed the blacktop, whistling as if he owned the car parked there. He had two door stoppers and the rubber-ended wire he’d need in a paper bag; it would take maybe a minute to break in.

  He was thirty seconds into it, had barely wedged the bigger of the two door stoppers between the door and the frame, when a car on the side road came to a squealing halt. Malcolm heard the whine of reverse. Then someone yelled at him. “Hey! What the hell you doin’?”

  Although Malcolm couldn’t really see the driver, he could tell from the voice that it was a man. He also got the impression of considerable size. But he didn’t let that rattle him. He could sell anything if he remained calm.

  Knowing he was too old to look like a typical car thief, he waved. “Locked myself out!”

  The man’s suspicion seemed to instantly dissolve. “You need me to call Triple A?”

  At that moment, Malcolm tripped the unlock button he’d been fishing for inside the door. “No, I got it. Thanks, anyway!”

  “You bet!” the guy said and took off.

  Malcolm called him an asshole while he checked to see if all the yelling had brought Jane to the door. The inside lights were on. He would’ve been able to see her if it had. No one was looking out.

 
“Piece of cake,” he muttered and climbed into her backseat. After dropping his tools on the floor so she wouldn’t find them on the pavement, he locked all the doors except the closest one and crouched behind the passenger seat, where she’d be least likely to see him.

  He felt conspicuous. But how many times had she come out of that building and gotten in her car to drive home? How many times had she popped the locks and hopped in without even considering the possibility that someone might be waiting for her?

  Chances were she wouldn’t even glance at the backseat. To her, this was a day like any other.

  Only Malcolm knew that it would be her last.

  Twenty-Eight

  The woman wasn’t going to show. Had something happened to her? Or had she simply chickened out? Jane knew that the people who most needed help were the last ones to follow through. There were a lot of reasons for that, many of which Jane understood. But she’d thought this woman had seemed ready to change her situation.

  Frustrated that she’d wasted so much time waiting around for nothing, at 6:45 p.m. she grabbed her briefcase and turned off the light in her office. She’d just called Sebastian and Kate to tell them she was on her way. They’d saved her some pizza and wanted her to hurry so they could see a movie. She was still a little nervous about letting them spend a lot of time together. She was afraid the stability Sebastian offered would prove to be an illusion, as it had with Oliver. But he and Kate seemed to be getting along. Kate had sounded happy on the phone.

  “You have to take some chances,” she reminded herself. Sebastian wouldn’t disappoint her. She’d never met anyone like him.

  Her cell rang as she locked the building. She dug it out of her purse, saw that it was her mother-in-law and hit the talk button as she crossed the lot to her car. “Hello?”

  “Jane?”

  They hadn’t spoken since Sebastian’s uncomfortable confrontation with Wendy. Jane wasn’t sure she wanted to have a conversation with her just yet. She had no idea how Betty might react to what had happened Sunday night and didn’t want to deal with a negative response. “Yes?”