Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

“I have a personal interest.”

“The victim was your daughter?”

“Not exactly.” He gave her a pointed look. “But close.”

She seemed to take the hint that he wasn’t prepared to discuss his connection to the case in front of the kids. So she waited until Kate and her sons had finished eating and dashed off to play video games in one of the back rooms before she brought it up again.

“I’m curious about your reason for coming all the way from New York,” she said as they sat in the living room with an after-dinner drink.

Maurice and Betty tensed at her determination to unravel the mystery, but Sebastian conjured up a friendly expression and spoke before they could intercede. “The man Jane’s been trying to find killed my son,” he said bluntly.

Her eyes widened.

“So you’re not the only one who’s lost someone you love,” he added.

His voice held no sympathy, nor did it conceal the irritation he was feeling. She rocked back in surprise and Jane’s jaw dropped, but Sebastian took this in while keeping his eyes on Wendy. “Tragedy happens,” he said. “It hits some people harder than others, but don’t think for a minute that you’re alone.”

She dropped the thin veneer of politeness she’d assumed so far. Seeing Jane with a man seemed to bring out the worst in her; he could tell she’d been dying to express her disapproval from the beginning, which was why he’d given her the opportunity. “Maybe that’s true, but how do you feel about the man who killed your son?” she challenged, sending another glower at Jane.

Jane flushed crimson. “Sebastian, it’s okay,” she said. “Wendy has every right to feel the way she does.”

“No, she doesn’t.” He took Jane’s hand to show his support. “Jane didn’t kill your husband, Ms. Burke. She was as much a victim as you were.” With his free hand, he indicated her scar. “Don’t you agree she’s been punished enough?”

Grabbing her purse, Wendy jumped to her feet. “I don’t know who you think you are!”

He kept his voice even but enunciated every word. “Then let me explain. I’m the new man in Jane’s life. No one will mistreat her as long as I’m around. Although I’m sorry for your pain, that includes you.”

She gaped at him as he turned to Betty and Maurice and bowed his head in farewell. “Dinner was excellent. Thank you so much for having us over.” He tugged on Jane’s arm. “Ready to go?”

She got to her feet. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “I’d do anything to be able to take it back.”

Wendy glared at her with such hatred, Jane quickly called Kate and they headed for the door.

“That was an interesting dinner,” Jane said when they were in the car.

Sebastian was already beginning to regret what he’d done-or maybe it was just the way he’d done it that seemed wrong. He’d come across too strongly for someone so new to the situation, which probably hadn’t endeared him to anyone. He hadn’t been able to protect Emily and Colton, so he was overcompensating with Jane. But he couldn’t allow Wendy to mistreat her. Now that he had a second chance to do a better job with the people he loved, he figured he’d rather err on the side of overstatement.

“She needed to hear it,” he said.

Jane left it at that, but he guessed she might’ve said more if Kate hadn’t been in the car. Why couldn’t he have waited until the third or fourth meeting to plunge right into the heart of her family’s problems? Why did he always have to try and fix everything?

Kate chattered all the way home about Horse, the dog at her grandma’s (which was so big it looked like its namesake), the trampoline in the backyard (her “absolute favorite thing ever”), her male cousins (one of whom she called “mean” for teasing her about being a shrimp). She didn’t seem to notice the strain between Sebastian and Jane. When they got home, she went to bed asking if Sebastian would be there when she got out of school the next day. She said she planned to make him a “gift” in her pottery class.

Sebastian wasn’t sure if he’d be around. Jane meant a lot to him; he wanted to make their relationship work. But he was afraid their histories would always taint their actions in one way or another, make them overreact when they shouldn’t or withdraw when they should persist. He wasn’t positive they could overcome all that, wasn’t positive Jane would be willing to work through the rough patches.

“You still mad at me?” he asked when they were finally alone in the living room.

She was just logging on to her computer. He’d been surfing the Internet on his, pulling up maps of Sacramento and motels where he thought Malcolm might go because they were cheap.

“No,” she said. “It just…it surprised me, I guess. I’m not used to having anyone fight my battles.”

“I think it surprised everyone.”

“No kidding.” Shaking her head, she began to laugh. “Wendy looked like she’d swallowed a golf ball.”

“Maurice and Betty were struck speechless,” he added with chagrin.

Jane’s laughter subsided, but her smile lingered. “Will you always be so take-charge?”

He wished he could say no, but he knew himself too well. “Probably.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Watching her carefully, he posed his next question. “Do you think it’ll be a problem?”

She met his eyes. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I’ll let you know when you’re stepping on my toes.”

He smiled. Maybe he’d overreacted by assuming they couldn’t make room for each other. “That’s fair.”

She started typing, and he signed on to his e-mail account. Mary had sent him a message telling him how much she wanted to come home. He wrote her a quick reply, asking her to be patient. He’d also received a message from the handwriting specialist. She confirmed that the directions to Cache Creek he’d found in Ione were indeed Malcolm’s handwriting. It was a bit late for that information to help, but when he’d hired her, he hadn’t known things would develop the way they did. Thanks to Latisha’s brave escape, they had all the forensic evidence they’d need. The problem wasn’t proving Malcolm was alive or even guilty; the problem was finding him so they could use the evidence they had to put him away.

Without leads, Sebastian had no idea how they’d do that. And yet…he wasn’t as distraught as he would’ve been a week ago. Somehow, being with Jane took the edge off the emotions that had cut him so badly.

After returning the rest of his messages-a note from his mother and another one from his boss in New York-he sat with his computer open as if he was still working, but watched Jane instead. A frown creased her forehead, but she was so darn pretty he thought he could stare at her all day.

Glancing up, she caught him. “What is it?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her he’d just been thinking about how differently he’d begun to view everything since he’d met her, but those emotions were too new to put into words. “You were frowning. Something wrong?”

“Not really. I’ve just been checking an e-mail account connected to the Web site at work. Skye usually does it, but she asked me to see to it while she was gone. There’s a message in here that concerns me, that’s all.”

“What kind of message?”

“It’s from an abused woman. Sounds like she might be in serious trouble.”

He closed his laptop. “She’s asking for help?”

“Yeah. She wants to meet with someone tomorrow afternoon.”

“Will you take the appointment?”

“Might as well,” she said as he walked over to her. “It’ll be right after the staff meeting. Skye, Ava and Sheridan will be there, but Sheridan’ll have the baby and Skye and Ava have been gone so long they need a chance to see their families. I can do it. It shouldn’t take long.”