Don't Go Home

by Janelle Taylor

  She forced a giggle. “Well, a little bold,” she said, the bile rising higher. “Okay, I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

  Once inside the tiny bathroom, Mia closed her eyes, sank against the back of the door, and let out the breath she’d been holding. She opened her eyes and looked for a lock on the door. No such luck.

  She quickly moved to the window.

  She was fumbling frantically with the stiff latch when she heard the bathroom door crash open and she felt Norman Newman’s hot breath on her neck and his arms pulling her back, away from the window.

  Mia was trapped with him in the bathroom. He stood blocking the door.

  “Yes, Mia, it is awfully hot in here, isn’t it?” he said. “I can understand why you’d want to open the window, but since we’re on the ground floor, I’m a bit wary of intruders. We are in the city. This isn’t Baywater.”

  Mia swallowed.

  “In fact, I think I’d be a lot more comfortable if I removed this long-sleeved shirt,” he said, his gaze roving over her body. His eyes lingered at her crotch, and it was all Mia could do not to throw up.

  His gaze didn’t move as he removed his shirt.

  Just when Matthew thought that looking for Mia was like looking for “Candy” all over again, he spotted a familiar flash of long blond hair on the hill that led to the industrial part of Center City. She was only about two blocks north, but this part of the city was teaming with commuters on their way out of the Center City Station and the bus depot, and seeing past the hordes of people for another flash of hair wasn’t easy.

  He saw the flash of blond again. Yes! It had to be Mia! She was walking with a man shorter than herself, a bit stocky, with wiry brown hair.

  Jesus. It was that creep Norman Newman.

  Dammit. Was she walking with him willingly? Or had he exerted some sort of force?

  Dammit!

  “Mia!” he shouted up the hill at the exact moment a train from the suburbs roared into Center City Station.

  As he ran to catch up with them, he strained past the hordes of people to see her, but he’d lost them.

  Dammit! Where the hell had they gone?

  Out of breath, Matthew ran faster, looking in every direction at once. He caught the flash of blond and blue T-shirt enter the Center City North Motel. Newman held open the door, then followed.

  Dammit! What the hell was she doing? Why would she go in there with him? He had to have a gun or a knife on her!

  By the time he entered the motel, there was no one in the lobby but a clerk reading a novel.

  “Excuse me,” he shouted to the woman behind the counter. “A woman and a man just came in here. Do you know where they went?”

  The woman nodded toward a hallway. “Coffee shop, I figure. Or the guy’s room.”

  Matthew’s stomach roiled. He ran down the hall to the coffee shop. Three people sat at the counter eating breakfast. No sign of Mia or Norman.

  He raced back to the lobby. “Ma’am, what room’s the guy in?”

  “You the husband?” she asked, looking up with interest.

  “This is an emergency,” he said. “The woman could be in danger. What room?” he shouted.

  “One-oh-four,” she said. “Don’t bust up nothing!” she called after him.

  Matthew tore down the hall and pressed his ear against the door.

  Silence.

  He knocked. “Mia? Mia, are you in there?”

  Silence.

  Except for the sound of splintering glass.

  That’s it, he told himself and kicked open the door.

  “Hey! What’s going on down there?” he heard the clerk yell. “I told ya not to bust up nothing! Don’t make me call the cops!”

  The small room was empty. Matthew pulled open one door—a closet. He tried to push open another, but it was either locked or someone was wedged against it.

  “Mia! Mia, are you in there?” Nothing again. His heart racing, Matthew called out, “Mia, stand away from the door; I’m kicking it in!”

  The door gave easily. Mia was crouched in the corner, her hands protecting her face. A window was wide open, the glass by the latch shattered jaggedly.

  Norman was gone.

  “Mia! Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Did that bastard put his hands on you?”

  Her face drained of color, Mia opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

  “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” Matthew said, gently lifting her up. With his arm supporting her, he led her from the room.

  “I called the cops,” the clerk said, her eyes on the paperback. “You’d better pay up for that door.”

  “You can charge the scum who rented that room,” Matthew hissed at the woman.

  “Uh-huh,” said the clerk. “Bob Smith. Like I’m sure that’s his name.”

  Matthew wasn’t surprised that Norman had registered under an assumed name. The man clearly had a lot to hide and a lot to answer for.

  “Let’s get a taxi,” Matthew said to Mia. “There’s one right there.”

  “Hey! You’d better wait for the cops!” the clerk said.

  But Matthew already had Mia in the taxi. It sped away just as a police car pulled up to the motel.

  Matthew relaxed. He had Mia back. That was all that mattered.

  As Matthew gently lay Mia down on the couch in his apartment, she lost it. She burst into tears and covered her face with her hands.

  Matthew knelt in front of her. “Mia, you’re safe now. It’s all right.”

  “I was so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  Anger, sharp and hot, coiled in his gut. That damned bastard! Just wait till Matthew got his hands on that twerp. “He can’t hurt you now. And that bastard will never come near you again, not if I’m alive.”

  “I was so afraid he was going to—” Mia let out a sob and turned her face away from Matthew. “If you hadn’t come when you did, there’s no telling what might have happened.”

  Red-hot rage coursed through Matthew’s veins. Calm down for her sake, he ordered himself. She needs you now—not your anger. “Mia, it’s all over. He will never come near you again. I’ll make sure of it. In fact, when you’re up to it, I want us to go down to the police station to press charges against Newman and to get a restraining order. Kidnapping will put him away for a long time.”

  “I didn’t even get to ask him any questions,” she said, her voice breaking. “That’s why I agreed to go have coffee with him. I thought I could get him to confess, but before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into his room ...”

  She trailed off, unable to repeat what had happened in that stuffy, smelly motel room. He hadn’t touched her, other than to pull her away from the window when he’d first come after her in the bathroom, but the way he’d looked at her—the way he’d taken off his shirt—

  Mia’s hand flew to her mouth, and she shot up off the couch and into Matthew’s bathroom. She kneeled on the cool tile in front of the toilet and threw up.

  “Mia, are you okay? Can I get you some water?”

  “Thanks,” she managed with what little voice she had left.

  She heard his footsteps tapping away and sagged against the toilet bowl. Get up, Mia. Get up and take care of yourself. No one else is going to do it for you. And the last thing you need is Matthew Gray seeing you this broken down.

  Bracing against the toilet bowl, Mia pushed herself up and took a deep breath. She walked to the sink and checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked exactly as she felt. Terrible.

  Mia splashed some cold water on her face and felt a bit refreshed. She squeezed a dab of toothpaste onto her index finger and did the best she could with her makeshift toothbrush. Then she exited the bathroom. The less time she spent in bathrooms for a while, the better she’d feel.

  Matthew was sitting on the sofa, a tall glass of water and some saltines on a plate on the coffee table in front of him. “You okay?”

  She nodded and sat down. “I just had
quite a scare there, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine in a little while. The shock is wearing off a bit.”

  “Mia, you’ve got to promise me that you won’t go off alone again,” Matthew said. “Promise me.”

  “Maybe you should practice what you preach,” she said and instantly regretted it. She hadn’t meant to say that.

  He looked at her, and she saw the guilt in his eyes.

  Great. Just what she wanted to inspire in a man—guilt.

  “Well, it’s a bit different for me,” Matthew said, handing her the glass of water.

  “Oh? Why is that? Because you’re a man and therefore can take care of yourself?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “It’s not a chauvinistic attitude; it’s just the truth in this case.”

  His arrogance knew no bounds. “So, what you’re saying is that Norman couldn’t have jumped you with a knife or pulled a gun on you and done you some very great harm?”

  He glanced at her uneasily. Dammit! How could she be so insensitive? He must be thinking that his brother had met with a very similar fate, whether at Norman’s hand or someone else’s.

  “If you’re referring to my brother,” he said, “let’s not forget that he was legally drunk when he was ...”

  He trailed off, and Mia suddenly felt very small. “Matthew, I’m sorry, I—”

  “Forget it,” he said. “Let’s just get off the subject, okay? In fact, why don’t you take a couple of hours to just rest up, and then we’ll head off to my sister-in-law’s for dinner, if you’re still up for that.”

  Mia nodded. “I have to say, Norman has sure crawled to the top of my list for suspects.”

  “Mine, too,” Matthew said. “We’ll stop by the police station and file a report on him before we head out to Laurie’s house. We can find out if there’s been any progress on the cops’ end of the investigation, but I’m sure they filed the case away right after they realized they had no leads.”

  “No, Matthew,” Mia said. “No police.” She thought of her sister, hiding somewhere, all alone, scared out of her mind. If Norman was the killer, then Mia was responsible. She trembled. “No police, Matthew. Not yet. Please.”

  He looked at her, into her eyes, then nodded.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of what happened, Matthew,” she said, needing to assure him.

  “I know we will,” he responded flatly.

  And then we’ll go our separate ways, she mentally finished for him.

  She knew that was what he was thinking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As twilight settled over Center City, Matthew pulled onto the highway, Mia quiet in the passenger seat of his BMW. She hadn’t said much for the past few hours, but he certainly couldn’t blame her. She’d been through quite an ordeal with that creep Norman Newman.

  He glanced at her; she was sagged back against the seat, her face turned toward the window. She looked as frustrated as he was.

  She’s been through quite an ordeal with you, too, he reminded himself. Their conversation about last night—well, about this morning—hadn’t gone well. She’d nipped it in the bud, and there was no way he was going to press the subject.

  He knew, more than ever, that he had to keep his emotional distance, had to resist her physically. When he’d spotted her on the street with that psycho, even before he knew she was in terrible danger, he’d been overcome with feelings he wasn’t willing to think too deeply about now.

  Distance. It was all about emotional distance. He was good at that.

  Of course, Mia looked absolutely beautiful. She was good at that. She wore a feminine lavender-colored sundress, low-heeled sandals, and her hair was loose around her shoulders.

  Just remember Gwen Harriman, he told himself. She looked sweet and innocent, too.

  It wasn’t that he thought Mia would suddenly become a monster, show her true colors, and stab him in the back. And then the heart. It didn’t matter to him whether she could or couldn’t be trusted. That was beside the point.

  The point was keeping himself from getting involved.

  “Mia, I know you’re emotionally exhausted,” Matthew said, “so just relax at dinner. I’ll ask some pointed questions, and we’ll see where it leads.”

  “I think we’ve found our killer,” Mia said, still facing out the window. “Norman has made it clear that he’s dangerous and way unhinged.”

  “He’s definitely that,” Matthew said, “but we can’t be sure he’s the one. It adds up, but we’ve still got to rule out all our possibilities before we decide to hone in on one person.”

  “It won’t be easy for you to question Laurie, will it?” she asked, turning toward him. “Even though you’ll be discreet, I know it’ll be hard on you.”

  Matthew took a deep breath and nodded. “My gut tells me she’s innocent, that she had no idea Robert was cheating and therefore wouldn’t even think of hiring a decoy. But, she’s one of the four widows, and whether or not I’ve got a personal connection to her and can vouch for her character doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be investigated.”

  “It’s too bad little Robbie won’t be there,” Mia said. “I would have loved to meet him.”

  “He’s a great little kid,” Matthew said, his heart lightening a bit.

  Mia smiled gently and turned her attention back to the window. He was grateful she’d brought up his nephew. The mention of Robbie’s name reminded him that finding Robert’s killer was the only thing that should be on Matthew’s mind. Not women and their feelings.

  That included Laurie Gray’s.

  Steeled to what he had to do, Matthew was relieved that traffic was light so he could get to Laurie’s house and get this questioning over with. If he was careful, which he would be, she would have no idea that she was being questioned.

  And if he was right, if he could trust his instincts, he and Mia would leave with the assurance that Laurie could be crossed off their list.

  “We’re here,” Matthew said to Mia as he pulled off the highway. “The house is just up this street.”

  Mia sat up straight. “Ready?”

  He nodded and pulled into the Gray driveway. He hadn’t been back to this house since the day of Robbie’s postponed birthday party. Through the bay window on the front of the white colonial, he could see Laurie at a distance in the kitchen, carrying what looked like a roast of some sort.

  She was a normal woman, making dinner for her guests. She wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.

  Don’t let me be proven wrong, he prayed to the fates of the universe. I don’t think I could take it.

  As they exited the car, Laurie stepped onto the porch and waved. “Hi there. Hope the traffic wasn’t too heavy.”

  “None to speak of,” Matthew said as he and Mia joined her. “This is my friend, Mia Anderson. Mia, my sister-in-law, Laurie Gray.”

  The two women exchanged hellos and handshakes, and they all headed inside the house.

  “Please, have a seat and make yourselves comfortable,” Laurie said. “I’ll just go and open up this lovely bottle of wine. You really didn’t have to bring anything.”

  “It was our pleasure,” Mia said, and Laurie smiled at her.

  Matthew and Mia settled on the sofa in the living room. Laurie returned with a tray with three wineglasses and the bottle of white wine. She sat in an overstuffed chair across from them.

  “I’m so sorry about your husband,” Mia said.

  “Thank you,” Laurie responded. “Sometimes I forget that he’s gone, that he’s never coming back. I didn’t see too much of him as it was; but he always came home eventually, so I keep expecting him to walk in the door ...”

  Didn’t see too much of him as it was? Matthew echoed mentally. What does that mean? “Robert was quite the workaholic,” he said, nodding.

  “Matthew, you don’t need to use euphemisms around me,” Laurie said. “I’m not a little girl.”

  Matthew was puzzled. “Euphemisms? What do you mean?”

  “Honey, we know
Robert Gray was no workaholic,” Laurie said with a warm chuckle as she stood up. “Let me check on the roast. Why don’t you two go sit down in the dining room. I’ll be serving in a few minutes.”

  Mia eyed Matthew. “Can I help?” she asked Laurie.

  “Absolutely not,” Laurie said. “You two just sit and relax. I need to keep busy.”

  As Laurie disappeared into the kitchen, Matthew felt Mia’s gaze, but he couldn’t face her. He couldn’t be wrong about Laurie. He couldn’t.

  No workaholic.... Did that mean she knew he’d been long cheating on her? Had she hired a decoy to find out for sure?

  And had she snapped when she saw her husband with another woman?

  No. It made no sense. Three men were killed before Robert. Three men with no connection to Robert or to Laurie.

  Dammit! What the hell was the connection, then?

  “That’s a beautiful vase,” Mia said, pointing to the delicate ceramic piece on the mantel.

  Matthew knew she was keeping him on track, making sure they kept their expressions and conversation light. “They got that on their honeymoon in Italy,” he said.

  And that was when he realized that something was missing from the mantel: Robert and Laurie’s wedding photo. It had always sat dead center. Now it was gone, and in its place was a glass vase of tulips.

  Why had Laurie taken away the wedding photo?

  “Let’s go sit down in the dining room,” Mia said.

  He looked at her, and he caught the concern in her gaze. He nodded and led the way. They took a seat across from each other.

  Laurie served a roast beef with potatoes and asparagus. They ate while making small talk about the surrounding towns, local schools, a new department store that had opened up, and Robbie.

  “Matthew talks about his nephew all the time,” Mia said. “He showed me a photo. Robbie’s so adorable.”

  “He sure is,” Laurie said. “And sweet as can be. He just turned two, but there’s no ‘terrible’ anywhere. I hope it lasts. Hey, how about I serve that delicious-looking apple pie you brought, Mia. I love apple pie.”

  “Matthew told me so,” Mia said with a smile. “I love apple pie, too.”