Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Call me if you change your mind.”

Jane smiled at her willingness to pitch in, to be involved. The Burkes adored their grandchildren, clung to them even tighter now that they’d lost so much. “Will do. Love you,” she said and disconnected.

A car pulled in alongside hers. Jane continued to let her car idle as the driver went into the store and came out with a six-pack.

Should she go back to Sebastian’s room?

Why not? What was the big deal? It would be merely a temporary arrangement between two lonely people. Once she knew she could get beyond her fears of intimacy, maybe she’d be ready to start dating again.

Jane couldn’t imagine that, but the idea of a trial run seemed logical. Wouldn’t it be better to know if she was capable of letting go?

Her cell phone rang. She didn’t welcome the diversion-she was too focused on her decision-but it was David, so she answered.

“How’d it go today?” he asked.

Jane got out of her car and walked through the aisles of the convenience store as she explained what had happened in Ione and at the motel with the instant messaging.

“So Sebastian seems normal?” David asked.

He was as “normal” as she was, but she knew she was using the term loosely. They were both damaged, both still fighting to build new lives from the ashes of their old ones. “Yeah, he’s fine. We’re lucky he’s helping us. How’d your search go?”

“I found the gun.”

“The murder weapon?”

“Yep.”

“So you’ll be able to close this homicide case?”

“I can only hope.”

A bored-looking man in his late fifties stood behind the cash register. Every time Jane glanced up, she saw him watching her, so she purposely passed up the condoms and pretended to be examining the snacks.

“Tomorrow, I’ll get hold of the owner of that house in Ione, see if Wesley Boss has a forwarding address,” she told David.

“Let me know what you find.”

“Of course.”

He yawned loudly. “Thanks for your help, Jane. I’m so buried, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you today.”

“You’re doing the best you can. Don’t beat yourself up because you can’t do more.”

“I’ve gotta go. Sounds like one of the kids is up, and I need to get whoever it is back in bed. Have a good night.”

“I will,” she said and hung up.

Trying to assess her birth-control options while standing by the beef jerky, she eyed the condoms. One box touted “ultrathin for maximum sensation.” Another said, “Appealing vanilla scent.”

It’d been far too long since she’d been in the market for such items. What a selection! Red, green, blue, thin, sheepskin, ribbed, large, medium, scented. She had no idea what to buy. Would ultrathin provide enough protection?

Suddenly, none of them seemed to provide enough protection. So what if Sebastian was every woman’s dream? So what if her heart pounded at the thought of touching him? She was a mother; she had responsibilities.

She walked out. But five minutes later she pulled into a drugstore and bought three different kinds-ribbed, sheepskin and vanilla-scented. If she was going to do this, she’d do it right. And why not? Why let Oliver cost her any more than he already had?

“This is for you,” she told him and marched to the checkout register, where she dropped all three boxes on the counter as if daring the clerk to think anything of it.

Jane had gone home, showered, shaved and used scented lotion. She’d thought if she gave herself time, she might change her mind. But she hadn’t. If anything, she’d become more determined. She would’ve considered buying some pretty lingerie, but the stores were closed and she didn’t own any she could bring from home. In the past five years, she’d gotten far too practical to spend money on something she wasn’t likely to use. Hoping to obliterate the memories, she’d thrown out everything she’d had from before. What a mess her life had been…

Since she didn’t have anything more suitable, she’d opted for an attractive yet casual designer sweat suit, one she’d picked up on eBay for half the cost. She’d also put on her prettiest lace bra and some brown-and-beige panties. Now that she stood at Sebastian’s door, however, she couldn’t force herself to knock. Her underwear didn’t really match her bra, and he had expensive tastes. Would he care about that?

No. He just wanted a quick one-night stand. At least, he’d wanted one when she left. Maybe she’d wasted too much time since then. She could hear the television through the door. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t changed his mind or nodded off…

Shivering more from nerves than the cool air of the open walkway, she checked the time on her phone. Ten-thirty. Not too late, but ten-thirty wasn’t exactly early on a weeknight.

Knock! Don’t just stand here like a big chicken.

She turned off her phone. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and raised her hand. She’d tap once. If he didn’t answer, she’d leave and pretend she’d never returned. Tomorrow Kate would be home and she’d be Jane the Mother, Jane the Survivor, Jane the Victims’ Advocate. Tonight she was giving herself permission to be Jane the Woman.

She wasn’t sure she’d knocked at the door hard enough to be heard over the TV-until it opened.

Then he was there, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, unbuttoned at the top as if he’d pulled them on just to be able to answer the door.

Oh, God…Jane’s mouth went dry as their eyes met.

“Hey.” He moved aside to let her in, but she couldn’t make her feet move. She stood where she was, clinging to her purse and the sack from the drugstore. Finally, without a word, she charged back in the direction from which she’d come. She was about to break into a run when Sebastian caught her by the arm. He didn’t grab very hard, but he managed to stop her.

“Whoa, you’re not even going to say hello?”

She didn’t have an answer and he didn’t insist.

“Come on,” he coaxed, leading her into his room.

“I-I just came to…” She let her words fall away. She’d been about to make up some silly excuse for her sudden appearance, something besides the obvious, but why pretend? He knew why she was here. Even if he didn’t, he’d soon find out. She was holding a sack full of condoms.

“Jeez, your hands are cold.” He covered them, his fingers curling around the fists she was making in order to hang on to everything, including her composure.

She swallowed hard. “It’s chilly out.”

“I can get you warm,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss her neck.

“Is this crazy?” she breathed as his lips moved over her skin. “Because it feels crazy. I-I can hardly breathe. And my heart’s pounding so hard…”

“It’s not crazy.”

Jane wanted to cast aside all her inhibition. She’d promised herself she would. What fun would this be if she held back the whole time? But as his mouth slid up toward hers, he paused ever so slightly on the scar that remained from Oliver’s knife, and she was suddenly terrified she’d fail.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be stiff.”

He was trying to tease her out of her discomfort. She knew that because he was smiling-but her self-esteem had suffered such a terrible blow the joke made her fear he’d find her inadequate.

“Are you?” she asked.

He guided her hand to the proof, and her heart pounded even harder.

“I won’t push you to do more than you want,” he whispered. “I promise. If you feel I’m being too aggressive, you just let me know.”

She released her breath, but she didn’t remove her hand. She couldn’t. She was too curious, too captivated. On some level, she was actually surprised she could affect him to that degree.