Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

He waved her off. “Nah, I already did that. I just came in to say goodbye.”

She returned to her seat. “Thanks, Rick. We really appreciate everything you do.”

“No problem.” He pointed at the clock. “You gonna wait any longer?”

It was now 6:35 p.m. “Another ten minutes,” she said. If that e-mail hadn’t sounded so desperate, Jane might’ve left. But she wanted to offer this poor woman every chance she could.

Standing in the alley, Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief as the beater Mustang turned into the street. He’d been afraid he’d given himself away. Hoping to figure out which car was Jane’s, he’d cruised through the lot one too many times-and nearly ran over a tall, gangly kid who suddenly emerged from the building carrying what looked like a heavy box. Rather than act suspicious, Malcolm had stopped and smiled and gestured him across the blacktop, but he worried that the boy had somehow sensed that he wasn’t supposed to be there and gone back inside to alert Jane.

Apparently, he hadn’t done anything of the sort. He’d loaded his car and driven off. Now there was only one vehicle in the lot, and Malcolm had no trouble guessing who it belonged to. Jane had confirmed the meeting he’d requested when he posed as the unfortunate victim of spousal abuse. She had to be here, waiting for her appointment. He’d been watching the place since six. She wouldn’t have left before that.

When the sound of the Mustang had faded away, he peered around the corner. The exterior lights had come on about the time he’d arrived. They were brighter and more plentiful than he’d expected; obviously, someone was worried about security. But the extra light wouldn’t be a problem because Jane’s car was parked in a shadowy spot, and he’d been lucky enough to find her alone. No one would see him get into her car. There was no one around. He’d keep one hand on the latch, and if she spotted him as she was climbing in, he’d be able to get to her before she could summon help.

With a quick glance in both directions, he stepped out of the alley and crossed the blacktop, whistling as if he owned the car parked there. He had two door stoppers and the rubber-ended wire he’d need in a paper bag; it would take maybe a minute to break in.

He was thirty seconds into it, had barely wedged the bigger of the two door stoppers between the door and the frame, when a car on the side road came to a squealing halt. Malcolm heard the whine of reverse. Then someone yelled at him. “Hey! What the hell you doin’?”

Although Malcolm couldn’t really see the driver, he could tell from the voice that it was a man. He also got the impression of considerable size. But he didn’t let that rattle him. He could sell anything if he remained calm.

Knowing he was too old to look like a typical car thief, he waved. “Locked myself out!”

The man’s suspicion seemed to instantly dissolve. “You need me to call Triple A?”

At that moment, Malcolm tripped the unlock button he’d been fishing for inside the door. “No, I got it. Thanks, anyway!”

“You bet!” the guy said and took off.

Malcolm called him an asshole while he checked to see if all the yelling had brought Jane to the door. The inside lights were on. He would’ve been able to see her if it had. No one was looking out.

“Piece of cake,” he muttered and climbed into her backseat. After dropping his tools on the floor so she wouldn’t find them on the pavement, he locked all the doors except the closest one and crouched behind the passenger seat, where she’d be least likely to see him.

He felt conspicuous. But how many times had she come out of that building and gotten in her car to drive home? How many times had she popped the locks and hopped in without even considering the possibility that someone might be waiting for her?

Chances were she wouldn’t even glance at the backseat. To her, this was a day like any other.

Only Malcolm knew that it would be her last.

The woman wasn’t going to show. Had something happened to her? Or had she simply chickened out? Jane knew that the people who most needed help were the last ones to follow through. There were a lot of reasons for that, many of which Jane understood. But she’d thought this woman had seemed ready to change her situation.

Frustrated that she’d wasted so much time waiting around for nothing, at 6:45 p.m. she grabbed her briefcase and turned off the light in her office. She’d just called Sebastian and Kate to tell them she was on her way. They’d saved her some pizza and wanted her to hurry so they could see a movie. She was still a little nervous about letting them spend a lot of time together. She was afraid the stability Sebastian offered would prove to be an illusion, as it had with Oliver. But he and Kate seemed to be getting along. Kate had sounded happy on the phone.

“You have to take some chances,” she reminded herself. Sebastian wouldn’t disappoint her. She’d never met anyone like him.

Her cell rang as she locked the building. She dug it out of her purse, saw that it was her mother-in-law and hit the talk button as she crossed the lot to her car. “Hello?”

“Jane?”

They hadn’t spoken since Sebastian’s uncomfortable confrontation with Wendy. Jane wasn’t sure she wanted to have a conversation with her just yet. She had no idea how Betty might react to what had happened Sunday night and didn’t want to deal with a negative response. “Yes?”

“How are you?”

Using the button on her key ring to unlock the car, she tossed her briefcase onto the passenger seat, but she was too nervous and preoccupied to climb in. She stood next to the car, her head bowed as she kicked a pebble from foot to foot. “I’m fine. You?”

“I’m good. I just…I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

Not really. But Betty had never used this tone of voice with her. At least, not since Oliver was killed. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Mom, don’t be-”

“I can’t help it,” she interrupted. “I know I’ve been at you to start dating again. But that man you brought here last night…Are you sure he’s the type you want to get involved with?”

Jane hadn’t been sure about anything, but she immediately felt defensive of Sebastian. Maybe he’d interfered with something he should’ve left alone, but he’d done it to protect her. She believed that much. She also believed it was more than Oliver would’ve done. “I know he might not have given you the best impression. But he’s a very nice person.”

“You’re sure? You haven’t known him long. That’s what surprised me-that he’d attack Wendy when he’s not really part of your life.”

He was part of her life. He just wasn’t part of their family. That was the real difficulty for Betty, and Jane knew it. As much as she wanted Jane to be happy, she also didn’t want Jane to be with someone who threatened the existing relationships. “He’s…different from us,” she explained. “If he has a problem with you, he makes it clear. He doesn’t pretend.”

“But…is that polite?”

Jane nearly chuckled. Oliver had been a serial killer, but he’d always been polite. “Maybe not. It’s honest, though. I think I need honest more than I need polite at this stage of my life.” Jane checked the time on her phone. If she didn’t get moving, they’d miss the movie.

“So you like him.”

There was some disappointment in that statement, but Jane took it at face value. She thought of Sebastian’s confidence and no-nonsense approach to life and smiled as she got behind the wheel. “Yeah, I like him.”

“A lot?”

Jane was fairly certain that what she felt was much stronger than “like,” but it was premature to admit it. “Enough that I’d like you to give him a chance.”