Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

The condescending air that’d bothered her so much evaporated, but it wasn’t replaced with anything more positive. “Yeah, well, we’ll see,” he said.

“Are you sure you want to get involved in this?”

Detective Willis’s voice came over the phone as Jane stood at her stove, stirring the homemade broccoli-and-cheddar-cheese soup she was making for Kate’s dinner. She’d grabbed a chicken salad as a late lunch and didn’t plan on eating much more today. Now that she was thin again, there was no way she’d let herself gain weight. She wanted nothing to do with the woman she’d been during the Oliver years. Her status as a wealthy socialite before Oliver went to prison; her subsequent fall from grace and expulsion from the tennis-club set; her downward spiral, driven by desperation and despair; her illicit affair with Oliver’s brother; even her job as a two-bit hairstylist. That wasn’t who she was anymore. Taking this case was part of her transformation. “I’m positive.”

“I’m doing all I can, Jane,” he said. “I’ve gone to Luther Wilson’s house three different times. He’s never home or he won’t answer, I don’t know which. I’ve left my card, but he never calls.”

“He opened the door to me.”

“Probably because you’re a woman and quite obviously a civilian. He didn’t feel threatened.”

“So? I got to talk to him. That helps, doesn’t it?”

“Of course it helps, but you don’t have the experience to-”

“How will I get any experience if I never have my own cases? I mean, come on-you have so much to do. With Skye and Ava out of town, and Sheridan on maternity leave, I have time. I can focus on this. Why not let me do some of the legwork?”

“Because I’m not thrilled about you going into Oak Park like you did this evening. Who knows what other risks you might take?”

She’d known in advance that it might be unsafe. She’d brought her gun, hadn’t she? When she’d married Oliver, she’d had no idea of the monster that raged behind his pleasant face… “Are you telling me I did something Skye wouldn’t have?” she challenged.

There was a slight pause. “No. The fact that she’s in South America right now should tell you that. I’m certainly not happy about it.”

“Exactly. I did what I needed to do, and I handled the situation just fine. I believe Luther Wilson will look around, like he said, and call us if he comes up with anything.”

“What if this case really heats up, gets dangerous?”

His mention of heat reminded Jane to lower the temperature on the burner so she wouldn’t burn the soup. “If every person in law enforcement thought only of the danger, the bad guys would win every time. Then no one would be safe.” What if Skye hadn’t taken the risks she did? Jane wouldn’t be around. “Anyway, in this instance, I think the chances of any danger, at least to me, are minimal. These poor girls are probably dead.” Jane hated to acknowledge that, but it was true. And if she wanted to be good at her new job, her new life, she had to deal in the truth. Deal with the truth. When this was over, she’d be lucky to be able to tell Gloria what’d happened to her sisters.

“You could handle that?” he asked. “You could handle getting a call tomorrow saying their bodies have been found?”

“Stop protecting me,” she said. “That kind of loss is hard, but it’s part of what we do. I’m tired of all the coddling. Skye’s protected me for too long. I’ve been at the charity for six months. I’m eager to take my own cases.”

He blew out an audible sigh. “Then what can I say?”

“Say you’ll welcome my help.” Kate entered the kitchen, dropped a kiss on her cheek and grabbed some of the bread Jane had set out for dinner. “Hi, babe,” she murmured before returning to her conversation. “David?”

“Okay, you can help.”

“Good. Is there anything you’ve uncovered that you’d like to share with me?”

“I wish there was,” he said. “I’ve spent three weeks on this case and have almost nothing to show for it.”

“Have you had a chance to talk to Timothy Huff?”

“Gloria’s father? Don’t worry about him. He has an airtight alibi. He was in Arkansas when the girls went missing, staying with a cousin. As a matter of fact, he’s still there.”

So she wouldn’t have to visit the pool hall this coming Friday. “What about the car?”

“We processed it from bumper to bumper and found nothing suspicious. No blood. No foreign strands of hair or other trace evidence. No unusual objects. No receipts. Nothing. I’m guessing whoever kidnapped these girls didn’t have to drag them from the car.”

“You’re saying they got out willingly?”

“It appears that way.”

“So maybe a fellow motorist flagged them down to ask for help? Or waved for them to get off the road because something was wrong with the car?”

“Or they saw someone they knew and trusted,” David added. “A guy one of them had met at a dance place. A friend from work.”

“That opens up a lot of possibilities.”

“This won’t be an easy problem to solve, Jane.”

She nudged Kate’s fingers away from the fruit salad she’d made for dessert. “What about the media?” she asked David. “Could they be of some help?”

“I’ve been in regular contact with them. They’re running the story again tonight.”

She’d have to record the news. “Maybe that’ll stir up some leads.”

“It always does-but I can’t promise they’ll be viable.”

“You’ve already interviewed all the girls’ neighbors, coworkers, friends?”

“Of course.”

“Can I get a copy of your file?”

“I don’t see why not. Just don’t mention that I passed it along.”

“I won’t.” She switched off the burner. The soup was ready. “Where are you now?”

“Home with the kids. But I have the file with me and I have a fax machine in the back room. You want it tonight?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

She laid the spoon she’d been using in the sink. “Fax it to TLS and I’ll pick it up after I get Kate fed.”

“Pick what up, Mommy?” Kate asked as Jane disconnected.

Setting her cell phone on the counter, she turned to her daughter, who seemed to be maturing more and more every day. “Some paperwork on my new case.”

“Your new case? You have your own case?”

“Yep. I got my first one this morning.”

Kate smiled brightly. Her wide dark eyes, thick brown hair and creamy skin-as well as the curves that were just becoming noticeable-promised great beauty. Her face reminded Jane of a young Brooke Shields, but she had little chance of being very tall, not with a mother who was only five foot four and a father who was five foot nine.

“So what’s your case about?” she asked as she slathered butter on her bread.

Oliver had gone to prison when Kate was three and had been killed shortly after he came out when she was seven, so losing him hadn’t affected her as much as knowing what he’d done. But it was hard to live in the shadow of such evil. Jane preferred to shield her daughter from the uglier details of the cases they tackled at TLS. “I’m trying to find two girls, possibly runaways.”

“How old are they?”

“Seventeen and eighteen,” she said, dishing up the soup.

“Why did they run away?”

“We’re not sure.”

She swallowed the bread in her mouth. “I hope you find them.”

Jane smiled. Maybe she’d been shortchanged in the husband arena, but having such a great daughter made up for it. For the most part, anyway. There were times Jane lay awake at night, remembering what it’d been like to love Oliver’s brother, Noah. Despite the betrayal that’d caused her so much anguish, he’d been a good man, the exact opposite of Oliver. Tall, handsome, strong, honest, giving. He’d owned her heart.