The murders had been carefully choreographed. That was probably what bothered Sebastian the most. While eating and sleeping in the same house as Emily and Colton, while playing the part of caring husband and stepfather, he’d been taking steps to end their lives. He’d slept with Emily, knowing he was going to kill her.
Maybe Sebastian hadn’t liked Malcolm. But even after all this time it was hard to imagine the man he’d known, any man with a regular upbringing and a regular job, as that cold-blooded. Especially a cop.
How could Malcolm live with himself? Did he realize what he’d done? Or care about the people he’d hurt? Look at the humiliation he’d brought his own family…
The telephone jolted Sebastian out of his thoughts. Dumping what was left of his dinner in the trash, he got his cell phone from the desk. He’d already heard from Mary while he was at the restaurant, waiting for his food. She’d called to let him know she’d sent the e-mail from her work account notifying Malcolm of the package and requesting his address.
This was her again. “Hello?”
“How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” he said, but he was feeling restless. He suspected it was because of Jane. He’d been thinking about her all day, fixating on the fact that he’d made love to her twice and still hadn’t seen the tattoo on her breast. “Have you received a response?”
“Not yet. That’s what I’m calling to tell you. I just got home from taking the boys to their hockey lessons and checked my work account. Nothing.”
“It probably won’t come until later this evening.”
“I won’t be around. I’m heading out. Some of the girls at work are getting together for dinner and a movie.”
This was unusual. Mary was such a dedicated mother she didn’t allow herself to leave the boys very often. “I’m sure you could use the break. Do you have someone to watch Brandon and Curtis?”
“I’ve got a sitter lined up.”
“Sounds like you’re all set.”
“I am, but…I’ll check in with you when I get back, okay?”
They’d developed such a routine it was difficult for her to pull away. She acted as if she felt almost as responsible to him as she did to her kids. But now that he could communicate with Malcolm directly, he didn’t need her to be in contact as much as before. “Don’t worry about it. Go have fun. You can e-mail me when you get home, and if I’m awake, we’ll talk. Otherwise, we’ll catch up tomorrow.”
“What are you planning to say to him tonight?”
“The usual.”
“Should I expect more flowers?”
“Who knows what to expect from Malcolm? That’s the problem.” He said goodbye and disconnected, but before he could put down his phone, his mother called. She’d found Malcolm’s hateful note in his home office and would overnight it to the handwriting expert in the morning.
Sebastian wasn’t sure this would have a big payoff, but some proof was better than none. He’d collect whatever he could. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Sebastian?”
He brought the phone back to his ear. “Yes?”
“What would Malcolm want with two teenage girls?”
The rain had stopped but the chilly air and early darkness made it seem later than it was. Sebastian had kept his coat on while he ate, but was finally warm enough to take it off. “I’m afraid to guess.”
“If he’s raped them or…or tortured them, he can’t let them go. He’d know the value of a witness.”
Sebastian regretted telling her about Gloria Rickman’s sisters. He talked with Christa often, shared most things with her, but the kidnapping had upset her so much he should’ve left that out. Knowing Malcolm had already killed two people made the possibility of more murders all too plausible.
Fortunately, he hadn’t told Mary, or he doubted she’d want to go out tonight. “I’ll find him,” he said.
“Now you don’t have any choice,” she responded. Then she was gone.
Releasing a deep sigh, Sebastian threw his phone on the bed and signed on to the Internet as Mary. It was time to strike up another conversation with Malcolm, see if he could get him to talk a little more about his new “roommates.” But Malcolm wasn’t on and Jane called a few minutes later.
“I’m going back to the casinos to talk to the dealers who work the night shift, so I need another picture. I gave the one I had to an employee who promised to go over the security tapes for us.”
“You don’t have to stay home with your daughter tonight?” he asked in surprise.
“She went back to my in-laws’. I felt it was best. I’ve already spoken to the dealers who work the day shift. I figured I should check with the night-shift staff, and the sooner the better.”
“Of course. You want to stop by to get another picture on your way?”
“Unless you’d like to come along,” she said.
“Where are you planning to start?”
“ Thunder Valley. I want to hit Cache Creek later, once the nightlife really gets rolling, since it’s our best bet.”
He didn’t need the promise of her tattoo to tempt him. Wanting to find Malcolm was enough. But Sebastian knew he’d be lying to himself if he pretended, even for a moment, that he didn’t think of that tattoo whenever he thought of Jane. “I’m in,” he said. “Where do you live? I’ll pick you up.”
It was nearly midnight when Mary got home. Fortunately, she’d caravanned with a friend who gave her babysitter a lift so she wouldn’t need to drag her kids out of bed. That was nice. These days, Mary found herself grateful for the slightest kindness. She’d never dreamed being a single mom would be so hard.
Her boys were safe and sleeping soundly. That was a relief. But it was also a relief to get a break from the drudgery of daily life. She needed to have more fun. The movie had been a chick flick, the perfect let-it-all-out-and-cry movie, and she’d done just that. Her eyes felt swollen, which made her eager to take off her makeup. But she was even more eager to see if anything had happened with Malcolm and Sebastian in her absence.
She hesitated as she walked past the flowers on her dining room table. Should she throw them out? She didn’t want flowers from a man who’d murdered his wife and stepson. But she left them where they were. They didn’t commemorate reconnecting. They were more like funeral flowers, marking the death of the positive image she’d once had of her first real boyfriend.
Saddened by the memories of holding hands while walking down the hallway of their old school, attending prom together and cruising down Main Street, not to mention their more intimate moments, she muttered, “How could you?” and sat down in the kids’ homework room to sign on to the computer.
She checked her work account first. She wanted to be able to tell Sebastian whether or not Malcolm had responded.
Sure enough, Malcolm-or “Wesley”-had sent her a brief note. He didn’t provide his address but he seemed to be intrigued. Give me a hint. What are you sending?
She didn’t answer right away. She switched over to her regular account-it wasn’t currently in use or she wouldn’t have been able to sign on-and saw a message from Sebastian. It came from a different account, not his regular one, but he’d just set her up with a new account so she figured he’d created a new one for himself, too. This one included his full name: [email protected].
With a click, she opened it. Hey, any word from Malcolm?
Hoping he was still up, she tried to instant message him at both addresses, but he wasn’t online so she decided to reply to his e-mail and go to bed. They could talk more tomorrow.
Malcolm responded, she wrote. He wants to know what’s in the package, but he didn’t leave an address. I’ll reply, see if I can get it out of him, okay?
Sleep tight. I’m glad you got to bed early for once.
Mary
Yawning, she sent it, then went back to her work account and replied to “Wesley.”