“No. From what I can tell he generally loses.”

Afraid of giving his presence away, Malcolm stepped into the room closest to the office and pressed his back against the wall.

“Stands to reason,” the man said. “A good gambler wouldn’t have to kill his wife.”

Were they talking about him? Was that Jane on the phone-or someone else?

“Sebastian says he isn’t good at anything. That’s why being a cop meant so much to him. He used the uniform to create some self-respect and to cover up his shortcomings.”

Malcolm’s hand tightened on his gun. Sebastian would say that. He’d always felt so damn superior.

“Sebastian told you that, huh?” the man said. “So he’s still staying with you?”

“Jonathan, cut it out. I don’t want to get into that.”

He chuckled. “It’s a simple question, Jane.”

“He doesn’t want to leave me here alone. He’s afraid Malcolm will come back and somehow find out which condo is mine.”

“Then I’m glad he’s staying. Don’t take any chances.” The stapler sounds had stopped. “I’m finished here. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Thanks again for picking up that DVD from Cache Creek. It helps us get a feel for the kind of monster we’re dealing with.”

Monster? She had no idea. But she’d soon learn, Malcolm thought.

“It was nice of that security guard to provide it,” the man said.

“I just hope they call us if he comes back.”

“Did they say they would?”

“Sebastian hired another guy, one who’s working security at night, to keep a lookout.”

“Then let’s hope that particular guard’s there when Malcolm or Wesley or whoever the hell he is shows up.”

“It’s Malcolm Turner. Sebastian’s right. He didn’t die in that burning car.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Talk to you tomorrow,” he said and that was the end of the call.

Anger simmered in Malcolm’s chest as he stood in the empty office next door. He wasn’t good at anything? He’d known Sebastian felt that way all along. Sebastian had always considered himself better than everyone else, had always done what he could to make Malcolm look bad, especially to Emily and Colton.

But Sebastian wasn’t as smart as he thought. Maybe he’d paid the security personnel at Cache Creek to rat him out. But Sebastian would be dead long before Malcolm ever went back to that casino.

All Malcolm had to do was find out which condo belonged to Jane Burke, and she’d be dead, too.

The man Jane had called Jonathan turned off the light and passed right by on his way out. Malcolm heard him lock the door behind him, but he didn’t mind getting shut in. He could throw the bolt from the inside whenever he was ready to leave.

Meanwhile, he had work to do.

Waiting until Jonathan had driven off, he turned the light back on and poked through the offices until he came across a name placard that read Jane Burke. Surely, somewhere, there’d be a Rolodex card, an envelope or a piece of paper with her home address on it.

But he didn’t find the information he needed in her office. It was in the storage room. Apparently, she’d brought in several empty boxes from shipments she’d received before Christmas.

Thank God for recycling.

According to the labels, she lived in unit 53.

Jane stood in the middle of her living room, staring at the grainy image on TV. That was Malcolm Turner, the man guilty of murdering his wife and stepson, impersonating a police officer, kidnapping two teenage girls and ultimately stabbing one of them. Who knew what he’d done to Latisha-or what he might do if they didn’t get to her in time. Jane had no faith whatsoever in the e-mail Latisha had sent. She wasn’t sure what that was about, but she was confident it didn’t reflect Malcolm’s true plans.

How did Malcolm justify his actions? she wondered. How could he live with himself?

By avoiding responsibility for what he’d done. As long as he could blame others for provoking him, he wouldn’t have to accept any of the blame. At least, that was how Oliver had done it.

“You’re watching that again?”

Jane turned to see Sebastian behind her. For the past forty-five minutes, he’d been helping Kate with her homework. Jane had tried to step in-she was always the one who helped, except when Kate was at her grandparents’-but Kate had been far more interested in Sebastian. “I want to know what he’s thinking,” she explained as Malcolm threw the dice at a craps table.

Sebastian’s attention was fixed on Malcolm, too. “You wouldn’t understand it, even if you could read his mind,” he said. “Looking for sanity and reason in people like Oliver and Malcolm will only drive you crazy. They have a twisted view of the world and of themselves.”

“All they can see is how it affects them,” she agreed.

“We should know. We’ve had front-row seats.” He grabbed his coat, which he’d tossed on the couch.

She felt her eyebrows go up. “You’re leaving?”

“Some of your neighbors weren’t home earlier. I’m hoping to catch them this evening.”

She’d been more than a little disappointed that they hadn’t located a single person who’d heard or seen anything that morning, not even in the units closer to the parking lot. Malcolm had entered the lot and broken Sebastian’s window, then dumped a dead body in his backseat. Granted, that wouldn’t take a lot of time, but it seemed bizarre that it could go unnoticed in such a public setting, on such a busy street. “Do you want some help?”

“No, you stay with Kate. She might have a few more questions on her math.”

“I don’t think she had any questions to begin with. Not really. She just wanted your attention.”

His grin told her he already understood that. “She’s a great kid.”

Jane tried not to let the fact that he was so good with Kate influence the way she felt about Sebastian, but Kate’s adoration chipped away at her biggest objection to getting involved with him. “I’m proud of her.”

As Sebastian left, her cell phone rang. Leaning over so she could retrieve it from the coffee table, she checked caller ID-and immediately recognized the number.

“Hello, Luther,” she said.

“You called?”

“Yes. I wanted to make sure you’d heard the latest.”

“That Latisha e-mailed Gloria?”

“Yes.”

“Gloria told me.”

“Okay.” She’d expected his negative energy to be difficult to tolerate, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. Tonight Latisha’s father seemed uncharacteristically subdued. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“He drives a van,” he suddenly announced.

Jane brought her phone back to her ear. “What did you say? Who drives a van?”

“The man who took Latisha and Marcie. I been talkin’ to the girls on the street. They tell me Officer Boss drives a white utility van.”

“You don’t happen to have a license number, do you?”

“Not yet, but everyone I know is keepin’ an eye out.”

“I appreciate the information. I’ll call you if we find anything on this end.”

He didn’t answer right away. Assuming he wouldn’t, she started to hang up again, but the sound of his voice made her hesitate. “Thanks for callin’,” he said. Then he was gone.

Jane pursed her lips as she pressed the end button on her phone.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Preoccupied with Luther’s phone call, she met her daughter’s curious gaze. “That was a man from the case I’m working on. I thought I disliked him, but…”

“You don’t?”

“Not anymore. I guess I never really did. I was just scared of him.”

“Does he think you’re nice, too?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” she said with a laugh. “But maybe he’s figuring out that I’m not as bad as he thought.”

“Is he like Sebastian?” she asked.

No one was like Sebastian. “Not really.”

Kate used her chewing gum to blow a bubble that popped in her face. “It’s too bad Sebastian doesn’t have kids,” she said as she pushed her gum back into her mouth.