Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

Would he have to kill her, too? He hoped not. He’d rather kill Mary and Sebastian and take Latisha away with him. She provided a lot-housework, sex, companionship. And without Marcie to collaborate with her, she wouldn’t be as much of a threat to him. Maybe, over time, she’d settle in and he wouldn’t have to chain her up when he left the house. Hell, maybe he could even take her out with him. In law enforcement, he’d seen kidnap victims develop an affinity for their captors. It might be weird, but it was part of human beings’ ability to adapt.

He just had to make sure she didn’t see anything about her sister’s murder on the news. He’d kept the TV off all day just in case.

“What’s your favorite meal?” he asked, feeling generous.

“My favorite?” she echoed.

“Yeah, what would you eat if you could have anything?”

She shrugged.

“Come on, price doesn’t matter,” he told her. “I can give you whatever you want.”

“I-I don’t know,” she mumbled.

She might be too sick to eat. But she’d need food later. She’d already gone twenty-four hours without a meal. No way did he want her losing any weight. Her body was just right-so perfect it had probably spoiled him for anyone older.

“You’re so pretty,” he said.

This brought no response, but he imagined how flattered she was by the compliment and motioned her toward him. “Come sit on my lap.”

She perched on his knee and stared at the floor, so innocent and sweet. Taking her chin, he turned her face toward his. “I’m going to buy you a present,” he said. “Do you want to know what it is?”

“The chance to go home?” she asked softly.

It bothered Malcolm that she was still bugging him about letting her go, but she didn’t understand how much better it was going to be now that he’d decided to make the most of what he had. “No, you’ll be staying with me from now on. But if I can trust you, it’ll get easier. I promise.” He studied her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. “Maybe I’ll even marry you,” he said.

Confusion drew her eyebrows together. “Why would you do that?”

He winked at her. “Because I’m falling in love.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered and kissed her cheeks, her nose, her mouth.

She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “Did you kill Marcie?” she asked.

He was tempted to tell her the truth and get it over with, but he knew he never could. It would only come between them if he did-like that one indiscretion when he’d cheated on Mary in high school. He had to make Latisha believe he’d let Marcie go, and the only way to do that was to remain adamant. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you, sweetheart.”

Pressing her head against his shoulder, he rocked her until she fell asleep in his arms. Then he carried her into the bedroom and returned to his computer.

There were no messages from Sebastian. But his bookie had written him three times. He’d lost the bet he’d placed on the Boston game last night, and now his bookie wanted him to pay up.

Shit. Where was he going to get the money?

Wendy’s car was parked in the driveway.

Jane sat in her own vehicle at the curb of the Burkes’ house, her eyes on her sister-in-law’s minivan. Because of what had happened to Marcie, she’d asked Betty to get Kate from school so she could work longer, but it hadn’t occurred to her she’d have to face Wendy when she came to pick her up.

“I hate this,” she muttered. It had already been a terrible day. The memory of Marcie’s blood in the backseat of Sebastian’s car would be forever etched in her brain-along with the expression on Gloria’s face when she heard the news. Now she knew why Skye and Sheridan made such an effort to shield her. Their work was hard. Besides her distress over today’s sad event, Jane had no idea what Luther was going to do, whether or not he’d cooperate if he came across Malcolm. She was afraid he’d get himself killed. Luther was formidable, but Malcolm used to be a cop, and he was sneaky, like Oliver had been. As far as Jane was concerned, that made Malcolm more dangerous than an angry pimp with pit bulls. He was certainly no one to trifle with.

Cold air was seeping into the interior of the car. Jane pulled her coat around her, but she knew there was no point in delaying further. If she wanted her daughter, she had to go in. “Just what I need,” she grumbled and scooped up her purse before getting out.

Her heels clicked on the pavement as she approached the house. Seeing her father-in-law through the front window, sitting in his favorite recliner, and her mother-in-law bringing him a plate of food, reminded her of the night Noah had called his family together, in that very room, to air his confession. He hadn’t even warned Jane that he was about to expose her…

Oliver had soon joined that meeting, and he had not been as forgiving as Noah had hoped.

The betrayal she’d experienced overwhelmed Jane again. As much as she’d loved and admired Noah, as much as he’d helped her get through those difficult years when Oliver was in prison, he’d failed her in the end. But he’d been under the false assumption that Oliver was innocent. She’d been equally convinced, so convinced she couldn’t even hold it against Noah. Besides, maybe it was all her fault, like Wendy believed. Maybe she’d purposely set out to seduce him. She didn’t think so, but she’d been so desperate, maybe she was capable of anything.

Cringing at the memories she usually avoided-and her role in what had taken place-she threw back her shoulders and let herself into the house. “Hi.”

Her father-in-law twisted around to see who’d just arrived. “Janey!” He didn’t get up. He knew she’d come over to give him a hug. “How’s my girl?”

She was terrible, a wreck. She hadn’t felt so on edge since the whole ordeal with Oliver. Maybe that was why she was thinking of her husband so often these days. Getting involved with Sebastian made her feel out of control. It also made her wonder if she was as bad as Wendy thought. She hadn’t been able to deny herself the pleasure Sebastian promised. She’d gone to his motel room not once, but twice. She’d even welcomed him into her bed.

“I’m fine,” she said with a smile.

Wendy entered the room, carrying a glass of soda for Maurice. Her step faltered when she saw Jane, but in less than a split second she continued as if Jane wasn’t even there. “Here you go, Papa. It’s the last of the ginger ale, but I can get you some more tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Betty and I need to do some shopping, anyway.”

“Hello, Wendy,” Jane said.

As usual, Wendy pretended not to have heard the greeting. Calling her children, she located her purse and got out her keys. “I’d better run. I’ll call you tomorrow, Papa. Tell Mom I said goodbye.”

Maurice scowled. “You’re going already?”

Wendy shot Jane an accusatory glance. “I have stuff to do.”

“But it’s only been fifteen minutes since you got here,” he argued. “And Janey’s with us now.”

Jane wished Maurice wouldn’t try to convince her to stay. He knew she was leaving because “Janey” was here. She always left. But he couldn’t accept it. He had to try and patch things up between them. Betty did the same.

“There’s no need for you to go. I’ll only be a second,” Jane said.

Wendy wouldn’t acknowledge this, either, but Jane felt Wendy had more of a right to be here than she did. She was exhausted, anyway. She needed to get home, grab a quick bite and fall into bed.

“You’re going, too?” Maurice complained.

“It’s been a long day,” she said. “Where’s Kate?”