The Perfect Couple

by Brenda Novak

  * * *

  Jonathan could tell it was different this time. Mechanically everything went even more smoothly than before. Their bodies seemed to be made for each other. But whenever he said something flattering, something that would’ve made Zoe smile or hold him closer the first night, she’d either pretend she hadn’t heard it, or she’d turn her face away as if she refused to believe it.

  The only “improvement” was that she trusted him more in a physical sense. The familiarity they’d established made them both comfortable and confident. He loved that in their most recent encounter she was able to abandon herself to the pleasure he wanted to give her without resisting it. At one point, she’d even awakened him for more….

  Jonathan?

  Hmm?

  I want you.

  Her hand had slipped down to caress him and some of the most passionate lovemaking he’d ever enjoyed had followed. And yet…when morning arrived, Jonathan was almost more frustrated than he’d been before. He’d made love to Zoe three times since she’d overheard him talking to Sheridan, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to do it again and again—until she finally relented and…what?

  Began to care. That was it. He hated that she was holding back. He’d accused her of being closed off, but she’d actually begun to feel a real connection. He was the one who’d blown it.

  He told himself it was better that she knew about Sheridan, that it was more honest.

  But was it really?

  He angled his head to watch her sleep. Had he ruined what they’d shared on purpose—because she’d surprised him? Because she hadn’t held him at arm’s length as he’d expected her to? He’d had to put a stop to what was developing between them, didn’t he? He’d felt the potential, the threat. It had been far more powerful than any encounter he’d experienced before, even more powerful than what he’d felt for Maria….

  Shifting his attention to the alarm clock, he waited for the second hand to tick its way to seven o’clock. He didn’t want to analyze his own feelings, but the questions he’d already asked forced another: Was Sheridan really standing between them? Or was it the hurt and disappointment he’d experienced with Maria? The fear of letting himself love again—and allowing those feelings to culminate in a serious relationship, with all the struggles and potential pitfalls that entailed? Had he set his sights on Sheridan simply because he’d known she was safe? That she’d always care about him but not in a way that would ever threaten his freedom? Was that why he’d never declared himself or tried to advance the relationship?

  There had to be a reason. He hadn’t really tried with Sheridan, or she wouldn’t have needed Cain or anyone else to tell her how he felt. He’d been happy to remain friends indefinitely. Why?

  Zoe stirred beside him. “We’ve got to get up.” She’d mumbled as if trying to convince herself to open her eyes, and he understood why she might be reluctant. She was in bed with a man she’d known only a week. And her daughter was still missing. Daylight put an end to the brief respite.

  Scooping her into his arms, he buried his face in her neck. She stiffened slightly, as if having him be so affectionate without sexual intent took her by surprise—even put her on the defensive. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. He’d acted on impulse. But it felt right. Almost as good as making love.

  “Maybe today will be the day,” he said.

  “I hope so.” She stopped fighting her natural inclination to curve into him. “I’m going to circulate the new flyers as much as possible, then maybe I’ll go over to the hospital this morning. I—I know I should probably give Toby and his parents some space, but…I have to be there, rooting for him.”

  “I understand.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be here for part of the morning. I have half a dozen people screaming for my attention, wondering why I’ve suddenly disappeared from their cases. And I need to make a few more calls to various cabin-rental companies.”

  “Detective Thomas said he’s meeting with you this morning, too.”

  “And there’s that. We plan to compare impressions of our various interviews.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She clasped his face between her two hands. “No, I mean it. I—I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this so far without you.”

  As he gazed down at her, something passed between them, something he was hesitant to name or even acknowledge. But on his part it had a possessive quality, along with a strong desire to protect.

  “We’d better get up.” She moved as if she expected him to let her go that easily, but he caught her before she could go anywhere.

  “What?” she said.

  Too confused to put what he was feeling into words, he gave up trying to talk and kissed her. It started out as a gentle melding of their mouths. But when she parted her lips, gentle quickly turned into passionate. He slid his hand down her flat stomach to find the warm, wet softness he already craved. “Make love to me one more time,” he murmured.

  Then the phone rang.

  With a sigh, he rolled onto his side. His heart was hammering too fast to answer immediately, but he knew he’d lost Zoe’s interest—and he didn’t blame her one bit.

  “It could be good news,” she said.

  It could also be bad. The way she bit her bottom lip told him she knew that as well as he did.

  Grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand, he said hello even though he was still a little breathless.

  “Jon? Is it too early?”

  Jasmine. “No. Did you get my package?”

  “It just arrived.”

  He’d paid to have it delivered before ten, Louisiana time. “And…”

  “And the energy around it is so strong I could feel Sam the second I took the teddy bear out of the box.”

  He sat up. “That’s good…isn’t it?”

  “She’s alive. I’m sure of it.”

  Zoe raised herself to lean against the headboard, holding the blankets to her chest. He sensed that she felt completely vulnerable. What little she had in the way of defenses, she’d reserved for him.

  “Can you tell me any more?”

  “When I close my eyes, I hear birds. Lots of birds. More than you’d notice in a city. I think she’s outside somewhere. Maybe in a forest. It’s cool, dank, even dark.”

  “Right now? In the daylight?”

  “She’s inside something. That’s what it feels like. Enclosed.”

  Listening to Jasmine work was fascinating. She spewed out the impressions as they hit her. But what Jonathan had heard so far didn’t tell him much about where to find Sam. Sacramento sprawled at the base of the Sierra Nevada, which meant the foothills weren’t far away. There were miles and miles of forest, all within easy driving distance. “Are there more noises? Any scents?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Keep trying, Jas.”

  “I’m afraid the only other detail I can relate is one you won’t want to hear.”

  He swallowed hard. “What is it?”

  “She’s extremely weak. This girl needs help, Jon. And she needs it fast or—” She didn’t finish. Jasmine’s “gift” put her in touch with some very poignant emotions. He knew it was a sacrifice for her to get involved at all, but she was a strong woman who did anything she could to fight for victims of crime. She didn’t shy away from her impressions just because they could be painful.

  He glanced at Zoe.

  “What is it?” Her voice was reedy.

  “Jasmine believes that Sam is alive.”

  Her fingers clenched the blankets. “Thank God. But…where is she? Can Jasmine help us find her?”

  “She thinks Sam’s in a forest somewhere.”

  “A forest?” Tears streamed down Zoe’s cheeks.

  “What about the man who did this to her?” Jonathan asked Jasmine. “Can you give me any details about him? Is it Master? Are we on the right track there?”

  “I have no
idea. I only know that this guy must seem normal or he would’ve stood out by now, drawn attention. He has a good job. He has a family. Something. He’s no one you’d typically suspect.”

  “How can he have a family and get away with this kind of thing for days, weeks, months?” He knew it happened, but it still surprised him.

  “It’s easier than you might think. You heard about the man in Austria who kidnapped his own eighteen-year-old daughter and imprisoned her in a cellar for twenty-four years, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” That was a highly publicized case, one with a very sick twist: That same man had fathered seven children with the daughter.

  “His wife had no idea. She believed him when he said their daughter had gone missing.”

  “That would be much less likely to happen in Rocklin, where we’ve got new houses built on small lots with no cellars.”

  “But it would be possible if the perpetrator hid his victims somewhere else,” Jasmine suggested.

  “Like out in the woods,” he said grimly.

  Had anyone he’d spoken to during the investigation been out of town recently? No. Except—

  Suddenly, Jonathan remembered Colin telling him that Tiffany was at some cabin. She hadn’t participated in the search on Saturday because she was gone.

  His hand tightened on the phone. What was he thinking? He had to be jumping at shadows. Colin couldn’t be Master because he and Tiffany were together whenever they weren’t working. And they both had regular jobs that kept them tied to the city, except for a brief weekend getaway here and there. They couldn’t keep someone hidden out in the forest. Besides, Colin was at work when Sam went missing.

  But then a snippet of conversation he’d had with the deputy about Toby rose to his consciousness:

  He wouldn’t trust the man who first came upon him, so the guy got his wife, thinking a woman would be less threatening.

  Did it help?

  Not much. Toby would let her come closer, but dodge away before she could actually touch him, all the while crying for his mother.

  Toby was equally frightened of the woman. Was that significant? “You don’t think it could be a…couple?” he said to Jasmine.

  “That wouldn’t be unheard of, either,” she said. “Remember that husband and wife in Canada who victimized the wife’s sister in addition to murdering two other girls?”

  The odd circumstances surrounding the way Jonathan had found Zoe in that motel room made the idea seem more feasible. She’d just had dinner with Colin and Tiffany Bell….

  But couples like the one in Canada or England’s Hindley and Brady, who’d committed the Moors murders, were a rare exception in the criminal world. And if Colin and Tiffany were guilty of harming children, why wouldn’t they maintain a lower profile? Why would they invite Zoe into their house? Help organize a search for Sam? Call Zoe on Mother’s Day?

  Because they thought it would make an effective cover?

  Possibly.

  Jonathan thanked Jasmine, told her to call if she came up with anything else and disconnected. Colin and Tiffany were a long shot, but he couldn’t get them out of his mind. Partly because of Colin’s involvement in the case since Sam’s disappearance. A lot of criminals tried to insert themselves in the investigation of their own crimes….

  He pictured Zoe’s neighbor standing in the parking lot at Sierra College talking about how desperately they needed to find Sam. Was it all a charade? “How well do you know Colin and Tiffany Bell?” Jonathan asked Zoe.

  “Not well,” she said. “Hardly at all, actually, until Sam went missing.”

  Until Sam went missing. Those four words sent chills down his spine. “You don’t think they could’ve taken Sam….”

  Shoving the hair away from her face, she scowled. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  She shook her head. “In the nine months we lived next to them, they paid very little attention to her. Colin has always acted more interested in me. And, like you said, he was at work the day Sam disappeared. I can’t see Tiffany hurting anyone.”

  Zoe was probably right. There were other things that didn’t add up, either. If Colin and Tiffany had Sam, why would they drug Zoe and remove her clothes only to dump her, unharmed, in a motel room? If the person who’d hurt Toby had another incapacitated victim, he would’ve taken advantage of it.

  “I can’t imagine Tiffany going along with the brutality of what happened to Toby,” she added.

  “Neither can I.” He didn’t want Zoe to feel she’d been betrayed by her neighbors if she hadn’t. But Sam’s kidnapper had to be close. And Colin and Tiffany lived right next door.

  CHAPTER 32

  The receptionist at Scovil, Potter & Clay was on the phone when Jonathan arrived, but she gave him a broad smile and held up a finger to indicate she’d be with him in a moment.

  “You bet I’ll tell him,” she said into the phone. “Yes, sir, I always do. Why…thank you. Maybe I’ll let you hire me away.” She laughed. “Okay, you, too.”

  Her smile lingered as she made a quick note on the telephone pad. Then she removed her headset and glanced up. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Wait! I recognize you!” She managed to get out of her chair, but for someone her age—twenty-six or twenty-seven—it shouldn’t have required so much effort. Those extra hundred pounds obviously weren’t easy to lug around. “You were at the search on Saturday. For a minute, anyway. I have a good memory for faces. Not that a girl would be likely to forget yours,” she added with a nervous chuckle.

  He grinned, hoping to put her at ease. “I’m a private investigator. I—”

  “I thought maybe you were a detective. With the police, I mean.”

  “No, I’ve been retained by The Last Stand, a victims’ charity here in town, to find Samantha Duncan.”

  She sighed. “That is such a sad situation. I’ve been hoping and praying she’d be found safe. Have there been any breaks in the case?”

  “None.”

  “Phooey!” She smoothed her hair, self-consciously fighting the static electricity caused by the headset. “So…you’re here to see Colin?”

  “Yes. Is he in?”

  She nearly knocked a small stuffed dog off the file cabinet with her elbow but caught it before it could fall. “I’m afraid not.”

  “His car’s in the underground parking,” Jonathan pointed out.

  “Oh, right.” With obvious chagrin, she checked the hallway leading to the offices, then lowered her voice. “Actually he’s here. It’s just that he’s in a meeting with the senior partner, and I’ve been told to hold all calls.”

  “I see. Must be an important meeting.”

  “It is. I think he might be in trouble.” She winced, even friendlier now that she felt the need to make up for lying to him.

  He lowered his voice to match hers. “Has he done something wrong?”

  “Not wrong, exactly. It’s just that—” She caught herself. “Listen to me. I’m so bad.” The giddy edge to her laugh would’ve made it clear, even if she hadn’t already told him, that she thought he was handsome. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “Why not?” He raised two fingers in the traditional Scout’s honor salute. “I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

  She mouthed the next words. “He might be getting fired.”

  “Really?”

  Her eyes widened innocently. “His productivity has fallen way off. And they don’t put up with a lot around here. Each attorney has to perform, or that’s it.”

  He took one of her cards from a holder on the desk. “Any idea why Colin’s productivity might’ve fallen?”

  “None.”

  “Problems at home?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I doubt it. He and Tiffany seem happy together. She came to the company Christmas party in this low-cut slinky dress that showed his name tattooed on…well…” She blushed. “Tattooed on her chest, if you know what I mea
n. Before the night was over, they were both smashed, and he had her prancing around like a show pony.”

  “If it’s not his marriage, maybe he hasn’t been feeling well.” Jonathan doubted Colin had health issues, but it was an easy way to keep the receptionist talking.

  “He’s not sick.” She leaned toward him. “Actually, Mr. Scovil thinks he might not be mentally capable of handling the job.”

  “Why does he think that?”

  She turned and gave the hall another cautious glance. “You’ll never hear Colin talk about it, of course. All he says is Georgetown this and Georgetown that. But he didn’t start at Georgetown. He started at a third-tier law school in Maryland. It’s all in his employment file.”

  “But he graduated from Georgetown?”

  She shrugged. “Somehow he managed to get the grades he needed to transfer.”

  Colin was plenty smart. Jonathan was sure that wasn’t the problem. “I see. So…you don’t like him?”

  A guilty expression appeared on her round, soft features. “I like him, I guess. I like everybody. But…I don’t know. He has a mean streak.”

  Jonathan refused to draw any conclusions from that statement. For all he knew, a few cross words could be interpreted as “mean” to this Pollyanna. “What’s he done to make you believe he’s mean?”

  Her mouth twisted as if she was fighting tears.

  Surprised by this sudden show of emotion, Jonathan reached out to touch her elbow. “Are you okay?”

  “It hurts to think about it.”

  “About what?”

  “Several months ago someone left me a nasty note.” She adjusted her purple, clingy blouse to get it to hang more smoothly over the bulge of her middle.

  “What’d it say?”

  “‘I’d love to…’” Her face beamed scarlet. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  Jonathan caught her eye. “Tell me.”

  “No, you two might be…friends, or whatever.”

  “I’m just the P.I. investigating Samantha Duncan’s disappearance. I know Colin only in relation to my work during the past week.”