Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

After sending David the text, he left his keys in the ignition so Jane could drive it if he was lucky enough to get her out of the house, and he went around to the trunk. There, he peeled off his coat and strapped on a bulletproof vest he’d bought over the Internet several months ago. He had a flashlight in the trunk, too, as well as a pair of infrared goggles and an army helmet to strap it to. Twelve months of preparation had come down to this.

Although the temperature felt like it was dropping fast, Sebastian put his coat in the trunk. He didn’t want to wear anything that might restrict his movements. He had too much adrenaline pouring through him to be bothered by the cold, anyway. “This is it,” he promised himself. “This is where it ends.”

After stuffing ammunition in every pocket, he closed the trunk with a quiet click. Then he crouched with his gun at the ready and began working his way to the back of the house.

Malcolm stood to the side of the living room window. He’d seen the car slow, then turn down the driveway, watched as the headlights drew closer. He’d been tempted to shoot at that vehicle. Maybe he could hit the driver before this went any further. But he knew he might just shatter the window and scare Sebastian off before he could get him in the house.

He had to bide his time, wait for the right moment… But his nerves were stretching taut. The forensics team that had been processing the house was gone, as he’d expected. They wouldn’t be coming back tonight because there was no reason to think he’d return, but there was plenty of proof that they’d been here. Fingerprint dust and Luminol covered everything. What it revealed made Malcolm anxious to be on his way. The bloodstains on the carpet going down the hall and into his bedroom were the perfect shape of his footprints. He could see them fluoresce in the darkness and hated Latisha for forcing him to allow so much evidence to fall into the hands of the authorities.

“So what?” He told himself to keep a cool head. He couldn’t get back at everyone. He’d take care of Sebastian and Jane, the two people who really mattered. Then he’d get the hell out of town and disappear for good.

Jane groaned. Apparently, she realized that lover boy was here. Whether she truly believed it or not, Sebastian was about to meet his maker, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Malcolm had tied her to a chair-gagged her, too. When Sebastian didn’t immediately show himself, he put a gun to her head. “You’d better hope he doesn’t try anything funny.”

As they waited, Malcolm could feel sweat matting Jane’s hair. Maybe she acted tough, but she was scared. She had reason to be. If he could, Malcolm planned to blow her away right in front of Sebastian. Maybe he’d even rape her first, take from Sebastian what Sebastian had taken from him. There wasn’t enough he could do to torture the man he hated above all others.

He imagined wounding Sebastian, then tying him up so he could have all kinds of fun with them both. Maybe he’d slit Jane’s wrists and rape her while she bled out at Sebastian’s feet.

Malcolm smiled at the thought of making her moan and writhe in pain while Sebastian looked on, helpless to stop him. “Relax, sweetheart.” He smoothed her hair when she began to tremble. “This will all be over in a minute.”

Where the hell was Sebastian? Leaving Jane a few feet away, Malcolm leaned against the cold window, trying to discern the shadows over by the cars. Before his breath fogged up the glass, he could see fairly well. But he couldn’t make out the shape of a man. There was no sound, either. No movement.

“You’re pissing me off, asshole,” he sang out, and Jane whimpered. “You get it,” he told her. “You know he’s pushing my buttons, don’t you? I’m going to punish you both for that.”

Then he heard a bang loud enough to wake the dead. He jumped at the sudden noise, relaxing only when he figured out what had caused it. Sebastian had just kicked in the back door. He was in the house.

Taking a calming breath, he turned Jane’s chair in the other direction and stood behind it, his gun to her temple. The show was about to begin.

Jane’s heart pounded in her throat as she silently prayed. Please don’t let him be killed. Please don’t let him be killed. She didn’t think she could take seeing Sebastian shot down-not after finding Noah, the only other man she’d ever really loved, lying dead. She’d asked Sebastian to stay away, wanted him to stay away, despite what it meant for her. But she knew that the man who’d approached that Ione house like a member of the local SWAT team wouldn’t play it safe. If she had her bet, Sebastian hadn’t even called the cops.

What did that mean?

It meant someone wouldn’t walk away from this tonight. That someone could be Sebastian, or it could be her, or it could be both of them.

Only if they were extremely lucky would it be Malcolm.

Determined to make sure that Sebastian knew where the danger was, Jane began to grunt and moan as loudly as possible.

“Shut up!” Malcolm hissed and hit her with his pistol, once, twice, three times.

Pain ignited with each blow. She could feel blood rolling into her eyes, but she wouldn’t stop. Malcolm wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. She was Malcolm’s insurance policy-and Sebastian’s handicap.

Following the muted sounds from the living room, Sebastian found what he was looking for. But he didn’t enter the room. He used the kitchen door as a shield against any bullets that might fly toward him.

With his infrared goggles, he could see Malcolm standing behind Jane, who was tied to a chair. He would’ve squeezed off a shot himself, but he couldn’t shoot in that direction, because he couldn’t risk hurting the wrong person.

“Let her go,” he said.

Malcolm was so angry, Sebastian could hear him wheeze with each gulp of air. “The stupid bitch!” he was yelling. “I’m going to kill her. I’m going to kill you both, so help me God.”

“You’re going to need someone’s help,” Sebastian told him. “Because if she’s dead-you are, too.”

“She’s not dead,” he cried and lifted her head by the hair. “Say something!” he screamed at her.

Jane groaned and her eyelids fluttered open, but she seemed confused, dazed. And she was obviously bleeding. The sight of her injuries made every muscle in Sebastian’s body tense. Malcolm had beaten her. Sebastian hadn’t expected that. He’d expected Malcolm to care too much about getting to him to risk hurting her.

Malcolm was losing his edge, sacrificing reason to emotion. But that wasn’t a good thing. It made him less predictable and far more dangerous.

What now? Sebastian needed Jane to be conscious, alert. He needed her to walk out under her own power and be able to drive the car. He wanted her as far away from this place as she could get.

“Jane? You okay?” he asked.

There was no response.

“Answer him!” Malcolm raised his gun as if he’d hit her again, but Sebastian growled a warning that stopped his downward thrust.

“You hit her one more time and I’ll shoot you this instant. Do you understand me?”

“You don’t know how to shoot,” Malcolm said, but that went against all evidence to the contrary. Sebastian was no longer the trusting, law-abiding dad Malcolm had known a year ago. And there was enough uncertainty in Malcolm’s voice to tell Sebastian he’d noticed the changes.

Getting down on one knee, Sebastian took careful aim. “Try me.”

It was a bluff, but it worked. Malcolm didn’t strike Jane. Lowering his gun, he shook her with the opposite hand.

“Hey, snap out of it. Sebastian’s here. Tell him you’re fine.” He tore off her gag. “Tell him you want to go home.”