by Leslie Kelly
“Wait, please.” His voice rose in desperation. “I’m in jail.”
That got her attention like nothing else could. Stunned, she slowly sat down at her kitchen table. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. And I need you to do something for me.”
Her bastard of an ex-husband was in jail and was calling her for a favor. There had to be some kind of divine retribution in this moment, she just knew it. But her curiosity wouldn’t let her dwell on it yet. “Why are you in jail?”
“That doesn’t matter. Look, I need some money.”
Melody started to laugh. Real belly laughs. When she could finally speak again, she said, “You must be joking. I don’t have any money, you moron. You stole it all.”
Someone yelled in the background again and Bill’s voice grew lower, more desperate. “It’s not funny, Mel, they have me in this dirty place…with these…these men!”
Oh, divine retribution indeed. “Sorry, big guy, they don’t let male prisoners room with female ones. Not even sexual miscreants like you. Now, I have to go.”
“Melody, please, I’m desperate. I don’t have any cash right now—I invested it in a couple of business deals that don’t look like they’re going to pay off anytime soon. And the court hasn’t taken care of the house yet, so you’re still on the deed. I need you to co-sign so I can use it as collateral for the bail bondsman.”
She absorbed his words, realizing he was totally serious. The man who’d ripped her life apart and left her with nothing was calling on her to bail him out. Figuratively and literally.
It was unbelievable. Shocking. Almost operatic.
Part of her knew she should be a better person, rise above the past and feel some sort of pity for the man. But deep down, Melody could only think that sometimes karma was a really good thing. “What did you do?”
“We don’t need to get into that.”
“If you want me to even consider helping you—” not that she seriously was “—you’ll tell me what you did.”
Bill hesitated. And Mel started to hang up. “Bye.”
“Wait! I, uh…I met someone on the Internet. And I went to meet her and her friend at a hotel.”
Oh, gag.
“I didn’t know they were underage.” He whimpered. “Mel, they’re using words like Internet stalking and statutory rape.”
That was all she needed to hear. The man didn’t deserve a single ounce of pity—not that she probably could have mustered one up, anyway. “I think you’d better call your friend the judge and ask him to hurry up on that title work,” she said slowly, not taking satisfaction in it, but instead feeling a strong sense of calm. Relief, almost. Because in this brief, five-minute phone call, Bill had confirmed every suspicion she’d had about her marriage. And her husband.
He hadn’t just been a cheater. He’d been a sexual deviant. Nick was right…no woman could have satisfied him. What he’d done to her had absolutely nothing to do with Melody and everything to do with his own weaknesses.
“What are you saying?” he asked, sounding panicked. “Mel, you have to help me.”
Suddenly feeling at peace, Mel smiled. “No, I don’t have to do anything for you. I was serious about the judge—you’re going to need the court to change the deed really fast, because I’m not signing a thing.” He began to sputter and she added, “Have a great time in jail…sure hope none of the other inmates find out you were seducing little girls.”
“Melody!”
She hung up. Hung up on her ex, on her shitty marriage. Hung up on the unhappiness and the uncertainty. Hung up on the past.
Funny, because she was suddenly feeling anything but hung up. In fact, she felt free for the first time in ages.
Humming under her breath, she put the phone back in its cradle and walked out of the kitchen. She kicked her sandals off, padding barefoot toward her bedroom. It was too bad she didn’t have anyone here to share the great moment—not even her cats—but honestly, deep down, she knew it didn’t make any difference. She might want other people to be part of her life. But she knew she really could do okay alone. Having someone in her life was a choice, not a necessity. A choice she was ready to make.
“Now, to make Nick understand that.” She just hoped he was a firm believer in a woman having the right to change her mind. Because one thing was for sure—she wanted him back. Pronto. And that was why she was going into her room to change out of the stale clothes she’d been wearing all day, since they’d left Joyful. Once she’d gotten herself looking a little better than a limp dishrag, she was going over to Nick Walker’s apartment to tell him she was ready for the bikini, even though half an hour ago, she’d been convinced she only wanted a leather coat.
He’d understand. “Please let him understand.”
Still smiling, Melody walked into her bedroom and opened her closet door. Flipping on the closet light, she began looking through her clothes, trying to figure out what to wear for a groveling session and some serious makeup sex. Her eyes immediately shifted toward the back of the closet and the sealed clothing bags, half-wishing the stupid peacock set was still here. Because it sure would make a statement if she showed up wearing that, a raincoat and nothing else.
She’d decided on a cute sundress when her brain processed what her eyes had just seen. Melody froze, still staring straight ahead. It took her a few seconds and a few deep gulps of air, to work up the nerve to look again toward the plastic bags.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
Because it was there. Her famous Luscious Lingerie set was hanging there, right where it had been before Jonathan Rhodes had stolen it. The bag was sticking out a little past the others, and the peacock-blue was unmistakable.
Still, she had to be certain. Taking two slow steps, she felt her heart begin to race and her blood roar in her veins. Reaching for the bag, she pulled it away from the others, unzipped it and confirmed her suspicion.
There was no mistaking it. She was looking at the bra-and-panties set that had once made her so infamous. Moaning, she closed her eyes as the implications flooded her mind.
Someone had broken into her apartment and put the lingerie back in its place.
“You weren’t supposed to find it so soon.”
Melody’s eyes flew open as a quiet voice spoke from behind her, in the bedroom. If she’d thought her heart was racing before, it was nearly bursting when she spun around, instinctively reaching for something she could use as a weapon.
“Who are you?” she asked, wishing Fredo was still here. Wishing Nick was here. Wishing she’d bought a gun as Tanya had jokingly suggested. “What do you want?”
“Don’t be afraid,” the male voice said in that deep whisper, made more eerie because she was staring from her brightly lit closet out into her darkened bedroom. “I’d never hurt you.”
Yeah, like she was going to buy that one. Melody felt along the wall under her clothes until her fingers brushed against her old set of golf clubs. As gingerly as she could, she began to slide one up, slowly, keeping her hand—and the club—hidden.
“I thought you were going out, I didn’t realize you were going to come right back up after you got the dog.” The whisper got a bit louder. “That dog barked when I tried to come in. I had to wait upstairs all day. But when you took him, I came down real quick to p-put your panties back and hide the new camera.”
God, that voice was creeping her out…making her shake, but also sparking her fury. Because the sick man had just confirmed he was the one who’d been spying on her.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice steady and strong.
“Please, d-don’t be afraid, Melody.”
And suddenly she understood. Even before he stepped out of the shadows into the light so she could see his face, Melody realized who’d been making her life a living hell for weeks.
“Brian.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
FOR THE FIRST ten minutes after he drove away from Melody’s place, only one word r
ang in Nick’s head. Fooling.
She’d been fooling him, fooling them both. She’d said the word herself, and somehow, it had been all he’d heard of their entire surreal conversation.
Nick had had quite enough of playing the fool over a woman. He’d sworn never to be used that way again after his divorce. So what the hell had he done?
Exactly what he’d sworn not to do.
Fredo seemed to sense his dark mood because he remained solemn in the back seat, not making a sound. The dog didn’t even do his usual trick of standing up and trying to peer through the front windshield at the oncoming headlights, while invariably leaving a line of drool on Nick’s shoulder. But Fredo was lethargic. Depressed. Well, they said dogs sensed human emotions. And his were pretty damn dark right now.
“Love isn’t worth it, Fredo,” he said, shaking his head as he steered onto the highway. “It’s too big a risk.”
Within another mile or so, however, he had to admit one thing: the past few weeks, well, he’d almost say they had been worth it. That being with Melody, watching her blossom and come alive, become the woman she was capable of being, had been worth tonight’s disappointment.
“She’s one hell of a woman, whether she felt anything real or not,” he said aloud, using his dog as a sounding board.
Fredo barked softly, a growly little sound of agreement.
That was the part that got to him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that Melody hadn’t been feeling it, hadn’t been experiencing the same emotions Nick had. He couldn’t have been all alone in their relationship—it had been two-sided.
They’d been in sync with each other, both in bed and out of it. She’d somehow known exactly what to say to make him finally let go of the guilt he’d been carrying about Jack. Just like he’d known the root of her insecurity had been because she’d blamed herself instead of her ex for their divorce.
“She felt it,” he said, confirming it out loud. “So why would she claim she didn’t?”
The curiosity nagged at him, so much that he had to start replaying their conversation, her exact words. “Fooling both of us,” he murmured, remembering the anguish on her face when she’d said it. Funny how he’d heard the word fooling more than he’d seen the anguish. He saw it now, though. He had a feeling when he went to sleep, he’d be seeing it behind his closed eyelids.
“She’s afraid,” he murmured, beginning to put it together. “She’s not sure of what might happen and she’s afraid.”
But she wasn’t a coward. He’d seen a lot of evidence of that. Physically, Melody Tanner wasn’t going to take shit from anybody. Emotionally…well, that might be another story.
What would it take to lay a skewered heart on the line so soon after it’d been charbroiled in a rotten marriage?
“Trust. Confidence,” he whispered.
Fredo barked again.
“Security. Certainty that you aren’t going to be made a fool of…” His voice trailed off as Mel’s words began to make sense.
Fredo finally moved, his face appearing beside Nick’s shoulder, as if he’d finally recognized the change in his owner’s mood. Because his mood had definitely changed.
“I’m an idiot.” Fredo didn’t disagree.
Melody wasn’t going to put her heart out there to be chewed up and spit out again, not unless she had confidence—and trust—that she wasn’t alone in her feelings. Nick hadn’t given her much reason to have that confidence. He’d never told the woman how he felt about her.
Maybe if he’d simply said the words, let her know that he loved her and that she could trust him, she wouldn’t have felt the need to back away. Or at least they could have talked about slowing down. Instead he let his pride force him to leave without a word.
“I’m as dense as Dex,” he told the dog.
At least he hadn’t gone to another state. In fact, he’d barely gotten out of the city. Even that was too far, but he quickly remedied it by turning around at the next exit ramp.
She might not be ready to do anything about it, but no matter what, Melody deserved to know he loved her.
IT TOOK MELODY a couple of long moments to wrap her mind around what she was seeing. Brian, Rosemary’s stepbrother, whom she’d known since childhood, was standing in her bedroom. In his hand was another of those wireless cameras.
Looking at her as if she should apologize for coming home and interrupting him, he said, “I wasn’t expecting you, Mel.”
“What is this all about, Brian?” she asked, not stepping out of the closet. She also didn’t release her grip on the golf club.
“I wanted you to be happy. To get your underpants back for you,” he said, misunderstanding her question.
She stared at the camera. “I mean that.”
“W-well, that was part of making you happy. So I could watch you and do anything you needed.” He stepped closer, into the doorway of the closet, blocking her exit. “That’s how I knew that m-man had taken your panties. I saw him. I couldn’t watch all the time…but I was that day. He was per-perverted.”
Melody closed her eyes, hoping Brian wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying.
“It’s okay, though. I got them back and he never put his dirty hands on them. He said so. He wrapped them in p-plastic and treated them like gold. Just like I did once I got them back.”
Her vision blurred and her head felt as if she were spinning on a theme-park ride. It was almost too much to take in.
Rosemary’s stepbrother had killed Jonathan Rhodes, she knew it. And he’d done it out of some kind of twisted devotion to her. The man who’d always seemed a bit slow but still normal was obviously far from it.
“Brian, how did you get them back?” she asked, needing to be certain.
He scrunched up his forehead, looking angry. “He sh-shouldn’t have been wearing your pink ones. I only went there to take them b-back. I used my p-passkey since Simon owns the building.”
Of course. And Brian took care of all his stepfather’s properties. Meaning he had a key to this apartment, too.
“But he h-had them on, M-Mel, and I got s-so mad.”
Killing mad. Her stomach heaved. Especially because Brian was looking very angry now, his face growing red as he stumbled over more of his words. Since childhood, Brian’s slight stutter was always aggravated when he was most stressed or upset.
“I have to know, Brian. Are you responsible for everything that’s been happening to me? The camera, the calls?”
His anger evaporated so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it. He looked at her as if it were the most simple explanation in the world. “Only because I love you. I always have. Rosemary thought it was Paige I loved. But it was you.”
He loved her. So he’d killed a man and stalked her.
This was going to be a movie of the week on Lifetime someday, she just knew it.
Melody remained quiet, thinking fast, trying to determine whether or not this man, who’d confessed to murder, was a serious threat to her. One thing was sure, no way was she going to set him off by telling him his feelings were not reciprocated.
“You weren’t ready. I knew that,” he said, sounding so reasonable. “And now that I’m the l-last one on your list, I can wait, Mel. Until you are ready.”
Her list? Her fucking list? “I don’t know what you…”
“I heard you and that man in Rosemary’s office the night of your party. You took h-him off the list and put me on it. I’m number one.”
Her jaw dropping open, Melody finally edged closer, needing to understand how any of this could have happened. “Brian, that list was a joke. Nothing but a joke.”
He shook his head, as solemn as a child who knew only black or white, unable to distinguish the gray. “N-no, it wasn’t. You went out with that policeman before you scratched him off. And you went to lunch with Mr. Rhodes, too.”
Which meant nothing, though she didn’t think she could make him understand that. “Brian, I never would have done it.”
“I kn-know that!” he said. “You’re good. You were waiting for the right one. Nu-number one. Me. Your landlord.”
Racking her brain to try to remember exactly what she’d said that night when she and Nick had argued, she vaguely recalled saying something about putting anyone—including her landlord—on her list instead of Nick. Brian had been listening, probably through the French doors leading out to the veranda. And he’d obviously taken her literally. As her landlord.
She wondered if he’d seen the intense passion that had erupted between her and Nick, but figured he couldn’t have. If she remembered correctly, she’d shut the door and made sure it was draped.
Nick. Oh, God, did she ever wish she hadn’t sent him away tonight, for a whole bunch of reasons. Not the least of which was that she had no idea how to handle an unbalanced murderer who’d been watching her and had killed out of love for her.
“So when do you think you w-will be ready, Mel? Soon? Because I’ve waited such a long time for you. Watching you has made it even harder.”
Watching her.
“I n-never watched you in the bathroom or anything,” he said, sounding self-righteous. “I didn’t want to invade your privacy. And it wasn’t all the time. Some nights I’d want to be closer to you, so I’d sneak upstairs into the empty apartment with my l-laptop and w-watch you sleep, knowing you were r-right below me.”
Her stomach heaved. The only thing that kept her together was the realization that Brian hadn’t been watching Friday night when she and Nick had been making love in her bed. She had the feeling he wouldn’t be so calm now if he had seen that.
She shook her head, “Brian, I’m sorry, you misunderstood. The list was a joke, I didn’t mean it.”
He stepped into the closet, suddenly frowning. “Don’t say that. You d-did mean it, Melody.” That red tinge appeared in his cheeks again and his normally placid face twisted into a frown. “You c-can’t be an Indian giver, not w-when you said I’m n-number one.” His breathing was growing deeper now and he seemed to be having a hard time holding it together. “The list says I w-win.”