Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

“What are you planning to say to him tonight?”

“The usual.”

“Should I expect more flowers?”

“Who knows what to expect from Malcolm? That’s the problem.” He said goodbye and disconnected, but before he could put down his phone, his mother called. She’d found Malcolm’s hateful note in his home office and would overnight it to the handwriting expert in the morning.

Sebastian wasn’t sure this would have a big payoff, but some proof was better than none. He’d collect whatever he could. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Sebastian?”

He brought the phone back to his ear. “Yes?”

“What would Malcolm want with two teenage girls?”

The rain had stopped but the chilly air and early darkness made it seem later than it was. Sebastian had kept his coat on while he ate, but was finally warm enough to take it off. “I’m afraid to guess.”

“If he’s raped them or…or tortured them, he can’t let them go. He’d know the value of a witness.”

Sebastian regretted telling her about Gloria Rickman’s sisters. He talked with Christa often, shared most things with her, but the kidnapping had upset her so much he should’ve left that out. Knowing Malcolm had already killed two people made the possibility of more murders all too plausible.

Fortunately, he hadn’t told Mary, or he doubted she’d want to go out tonight. “I’ll find him,” he said.

“Now you don’t have any choice,” she responded. Then she was gone.

Releasing a deep sigh, Sebastian threw his phone on the bed and signed on to the Internet as Mary. It was time to strike up another conversation with Malcolm, see if he could get him to talk a little more about his new “roommates.” But Malcolm wasn’t on and Jane called a few minutes later.

“I’m going back to the casinos to talk to the dealers who work the night shift, so I need another picture. I gave the one I had to an employee who promised to go over the security tapes for us.”

“You don’t have to stay home with your daughter tonight?” he asked in surprise.

“She went back to my in-laws’. I felt it was best. I’ve already spoken to the dealers who work the day shift. I figured I should check with the night-shift staff, and the sooner the better.”

“Of course. You want to stop by to get another picture on your way?”

“Unless you’d like to come along,” she said.

“Where are you planning to start?”

“ Thunder Valley. I want to hit Cache Creek later, once the nightlife really gets rolling, since it’s our best bet.”

He didn’t need the promise of her tattoo to tempt him. Wanting to find Malcolm was enough. But Sebastian knew he’d be lying to himself if he pretended, even for a moment, that he didn’t think of that tattoo whenever he thought of Jane. “I’m in,” he said. “Where do you live? I’ll pick you up.”

It was nearly midnight when Mary got home. Fortunately, she’d caravanned with a friend who gave her babysitter a lift so she wouldn’t need to drag her kids out of bed. That was nice. These days, Mary found herself grateful for the slightest kindness. She’d never dreamed being a single mom would be so hard.

Her boys were safe and sleeping soundly. That was a relief. But it was also a relief to get a break from the drudgery of daily life. She needed to have more fun. The movie had been a chick flick, the perfect let-it-all-out-and-cry movie, and she’d done just that. Her eyes felt swollen, which made her eager to take off her makeup. But she was even more eager to see if anything had happened with Malcolm and Sebastian in her absence.

She hesitated as she walked past the flowers on her dining room table. Should she throw them out? She didn’t want flowers from a man who’d murdered his wife and stepson. But she left them where they were. They didn’t commemorate reconnecting. They were more like funeral flowers, marking the death of the positive image she’d once had of her first real boyfriend.

Saddened by the memories of holding hands while walking down the hallway of their old school, attending prom together and cruising down Main Street, not to mention their more intimate moments, she muttered, “How could you?” and sat down in the kids’ homework room to sign on to the computer.

She checked her work account first. She wanted to be able to tell Sebastian whether or not Malcolm had responded.

Sure enough, Malcolm-or “Wesley”-had sent her a brief note. He didn’t provide his address but he seemed to be intrigued. Give me a hint. What are you sending?

She didn’t answer right away. She switched over to her regular account-it wasn’t currently in use or she wouldn’t have been able to sign on-and saw a message from Sebastian. It came from a different account, not his regular one, but he’d just set her up with a new account so she figured he’d created a new one for himself, too. This one included his full name: Sebastian.Costas@yahoo.com.

With a click, she opened it. Hey, any word from Malcolm?

Hoping he was still up, she tried to instant message him at both addresses, but he wasn’t online so she decided to reply to his e-mail and go to bed. They could talk more tomorrow.

Malcolm responded, she wrote. He wants to know what’s in the package, but he didn’t leave an address. I’ll reply, see if I can get it out of him, okay?

Sleep tight. I’m glad you got to bed early for once.

Mary

Yawning, she sent it, then went back to her work account and replied to “Wesley.”

It’s something you gave me a long time ago. Interested?

Love and hugs-Mary

Maybe if he thought those flowers had given him away, that she was beginning to realize who he really was, he’d drop the charade and agree to meet.

It was impossible to be with Sebastian and not think about what’d happened between them earlier. Jane had known that their previous intimacy would be a problem, but she didn’t want to be alone all night, driving from casino to casino. Latisha’s father had been leaving hateful messages on her voice mail, claiming she couldn’t be working hard enough if she hadn’t found Latisha by now. In the last message, he’d even accused her of giving priority to the white victims she was trying to help.

Jane didn’t know how to respond to that. She wanted to find Latisha and Marcie as much as he did, but the color of her skin had convinced him otherwise. And part of her did feel guilty-not because she wasn’t doing her best but because she didn’t know how to do any better.

“It’s nearly one o’clock. How are you holding up?” Sebastian asked as they pulled out of the parking lot at Red Hawk.

Since they hadn’t come across anyone who recognized Malcolm’s picture, not particularly well. The fatigue dragging at her heels made it difficult to keep going. She and Sebastian hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and she’d been on her feet all day. But she had to finish canvassing the casinos. She wasn’t about to call Gloria or Luther and tell them she had no more to go on now than she did yesterday. Besides, there was only one more place to visit, and it was the one that mattered most.

“Knowing Malcolm Turner, when would you expect him to gamble? During the day, in the afternoon, or at night?”

“I have no idea. This Malcolm Turner isn’t the Malcolm Turner I thought I knew. Even if he wasn’t the nicest guy, I believed he cared about Emily and Colton. I believed he hated me, but that he’d do the right thing because he was a cop.” He shook his head helplessly. “This person-this man who could kill with impunity-he’s as much a stranger to me as he is to you.”

He adjusted the heater while she stared at Malcolm’s picture. “It’d be nice to finally catch a break, wouldn’t it?”