This was the most respectful Marcie had been, but Malcolm knew how deeply she hated him. It was all an act to save her sister’s sorry ass. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he responded. “Look at you!”
“You won’t be able to tell what I look like in the dark. Jus’ take me outta here, so she don’t gotta hear it, and I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”
She’d try to kill him, more likely. He didn’t find her appealing. And because of her, he had to go to the trouble of getting a new phone, which meant he needed another alias. He preferred Latisha. But he’d never forced a woman before. He’d spent fifteen years as a cop, believing that rapists were the worst kind of scum, second only to pedophiles. Did he really want to become one of them?
Even prison inmates had no respect for a rapist. He remembered wondering why they didn’t have enough pride to use some self-restraint, and here he was, facing the same temptation. It showed how much he’d changed, but he didn’t want to think about that.
Attempting to ignore the part of him that still balked at what he was about to do, he stepped forward. He’d unchain Latisha and drag her ass out of here if he had to.
But Marcie got in front of her. “No!” she cried. “You won’t take her! Let her be!”
The stupid bitch was willing to take another beating. He’d probably have to fight them both. And if it got too violent, he wasn’t sure he could get it up.
“Shut your ugly mouth and go to sleep,” he snapped and walked out. He didn’t want Marcie or Latisha. He wanted Mary. And he was going to have her.
He just needed to figure out how.
Jane was getting out of the shower when the doorbell rang. She wrapped a towel around her head and pulled on her robe before peeking through the blinds in the kitchen. It was David.
“Hi,” she breathed as she let him into her condo. She’d managed to fall asleep a couple of hours after searching every reverse directory available to her, without any success. Then she’d gotten up and worked out before taking Kate to school in her sweats, like she did every day. But David looked as if he’d been up since she called him. Wearing a sport jacket, a tie and some chinos, he’d tried to smooth down his hair, but it stood up in back. Apparently, he hadn’t showered or shaved, but it didn’t hurt his appearance. With short dark hair, light green eyes and a rugged face, he was handsome despite being a little frayed around the edges. Jane had always thought so, even when she hated him all those years ago.
“Where’s Kate?” He glanced toward the kitchen.
“School. She likes to go early on Tuesdays. There’s a ceramics teacher who allows the kids to make things.” She plucked at his lapel. “You didn’t have to dress up just for me,” she teased.
He indicated her robe. “I could say the same.”
“You could’ve called first.”
“I was in the neighborhood. Anyway, I had to dress for the entire day. Who knows when I’ll have the chance to go home again. This past week’s been crazy. Fortunately, Jeremy’s nearly thirteen, old enough to be some help with Chase and Jessica. And they love their sitter. But with Skye gone and the hours I’m pullin’…” He sighed. “I’ll be glad when she’s home.”
David worked too hard. Jane had heard Skye say it, had experienced it firsthand when she’d been married to one of his most sought-after suspects. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No.” He dropped onto her soft leather couch. “I have a caffeine buzz already.”
“How about breakfast? I can get dressed, make you some eggs.”
“No, I don’t have much time. I stopped by to tell you I went to the station first thing and used the databases there. The number you gave me didn’t match any records.”
“So you need to get a search warrant?”
“I already did.” He straightened the bear sculpture on her coffee table. “I faxed it to the various cellular companies before I came here.”
“How long will it take to get a response?”
“So far I’ve heard from two. No luck. I’m waiting on the others. Any word from Gloria?”
“I called her when I got out of bed this morning. She’s still planning to go to work today. She said she’d only drive herself crazy if she didn’t.”
He shook his head in sympathy. “The rent has to be paid. That kind of thing stops for no one.”
“I can’t imagine what’s happened to Marcie and Latisha, David.”
“Me, neither,” he said. “There was no sign of a struggle. That’s what’s got me. They simply disappeared-together and in broad daylight.”
“How often does that occur?” she asked.
“Not once since I’ve been on the force.”
Jane tightened the belt on her robe. She was close enough to David and Skye that it wasn’t any big deal for him to see her like this, but she would’ve felt more comfortable in her clothes. “Gloria told me that someone downtown thought this case might be related to the murders along the American River.”
He made a face. “No, you and I both know who committed those murders.”
“Exactly. So what gives?”
“I’ve never been able to prove it was Oliver. That means that technically they remain unsolved.”
“Are you still trying to prove it?”
“There’s no point in spending any more time. I’ve already dug up all there is to find. Claiming this case might be related was just an excuse to dump it on my desk. Everyone’s so busy.” Closing his eyes, he let his head fall onto the back of the couch. “We really need more help.”
“That’s why you’re letting me get involved,” she said.
He opened one eye. “No, you’re involved because I knew there was no way to stop you. I’m intimately familiar with the diehard who trained you, remember?”
She offered him a coy smile. “Have you talked to Skye?”
“Last night before bed.”
“Did you tell her I’m working my own case?”
“I left that out-rather conveniently, I admit.” The tenor of his voice changed, grew more serious. “I figure she has enough to worry about.”
He was the one doing the worrying. That was obvious. He didn’t like his wife taking some of the cases she did. This time Skye wasn’t chasing anyone accused of a violent crime, but South America was too far away for David to feel comfortable about her absence. Even though Ava was there, too. Every once in a while, he nearly talked her into quitting her job. But she couldn’t give up on The Last Stand, couldn’t walk out on what she’d created.
“I’ll get dressed and make you some breakfast.”
“No, I’m leaving,” he said and stood. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
She followed him to the door. “So you’ll be in touch if-”
David’s cell phone went off. She stopped, hoping whoever was on the other end might be calling about the warrant.
“Hello?” He cocked his head, listening. “Just a sec, let me grab a pen.” He patted his jacket pockets and found a pad as Jane brought him a pen from a drawer in the kitchen. “Go ahead.”
He scribbled something down, thanked whoever had called and hung up.
“Well?” she asked expectantly.
“That was Verizon. The number belongs to a guy named Wesley Boss.”
“Do you have an address?”
“At this point, just a P.O. box. I’ll head to the post office as soon as I have time and see if I can get a street address.”
“Let me know when you have it.”
He muttered Boss’s name under his breath. “Wesley Boss…Wesley Boss.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“That name sounds familiar.”
“Why would it?”
“I’ve heard it before. Recently. Or maybe not.” He stepped onto the stoop. “Wait, I remember now. Some guy from New York came to the station a few weeks ago, asking about a Wesley Boss. He said Boss loves police work, forensic shows, ambulance chasing. He wanted to know if he’d been a nuisance or tried to befriend any of the officers.”
Jane hid behind the door to spare the other people in her complex the sight of her in her bathrobe. “Why was he looking for Boss?”