Twenty-One

She was addicted to him. That was all there was to it. She couldn’t continue to lie in bed, aching with need. She had to have him. And somehow the resistance she’d tried to summon but couldn’t made the experience all the more intoxicating. Giving in had never felt so sweet.

The scrape of the shower curtain against the rod told Jane that Sebastian had heard her come in. In some deep recess of her brain, she hoped he’d send her back to her bed. This had to end somewhere, didn’t it? If she wanted to get out of this affair unscathed, the sooner it ended the better. But he didn’t rebuff her. She could sense his anticipation, feel him waiting for her approach.

Biting her lip, she wondered what she’d do on the off chance that Kate woke up and discovered them both missing from their beds. She’d tell her daughter that Sebastian had left and let Kate think she was in the bathroom alone, she decided. If Kate was older, she might doubt that, but not at twelve. Not when Jane had never had another man over.

They had to be quiet, though. Very quiet…

Assured that she had a way to protect her daughter from knowing too much, she slipped off her nightgown and dropped it on the floor. Steam billowed through the open curtain, so thick it felt like a thousand hands reaching out to curl around her.

Sebastian found her as soon as she stepped toward him and drew her against his slick, hard body. “There you are,” he breathed in her ear. “I’ve been waiting for this since you brought me those damn blankets. What took you so long?”

The memory of Wendy’s scorn. The hope that it wasn’t too late to atone for her mistakes. The determination to do what was best for her daughter.

Clearly, she wasn’t up to those challenges. But she’d already made love with Sebastian several times over the past two days. What would one more night matter?

“I wanted to do the right thing,” she told him.

“I can’t think of anything that feels more right than this,” he said. Then his lips met hers in a breathless, frenzied kiss spurred on by the urgency rising in them both.

“You’ve got the Shield?”

“I’m ready.” Her thoughts were somewhere in the stratosphere, but she’d hung on to that much of her sanity.

He licked away the water dripping from her left breast. “Smart girl,” he whispered.

Minutes later, he lifted her onto him and she could think of nothing except the rasp of his labored breathing, the contraction of his muscles as he held her against the tile wall and that moment of ultimate ecstasy when he covered her mouth with his to capture her moan.

She didn’t hold back with him anymore. She couldn’t. She gave him everything she had, physically and emotionally. She knew that was why making love with him was so much better, so different, than before.

But she also knew that what made it different could swing back the other way-and hurt her more deeply than ever.

The next morning, Sebastian sat at the breakfast table with Kate while Jane stood at the stove, dressed for work in tailored pants and a starched white blouse, frying eggs. Kate already had her meal and was somehow managing to fork up her food and find her mouth without ever looking down at her plate. She had eyes only for him. Every time he glanced up, he found her watching him with rapt attention. He was beginning to wonder if she’d somehow caught on to the fact that he’d had sex with her mother last night. Maybe his smile was giving it away, or the fact that he still felt so aware of Jane as she cooked behind him.

“Are you married, Mr. Costas?” Kate asked.

“Call me Sebastian,” he said. “And no, I’m not married.”

“Do you have any children?”

“Kate, you need to finish your breakfast,” Jane interjected from the stove. Sebastian wasn’t sure if she was trying to protect him from having to say he no longer had children, or if she was trying to stop Kate from getting to know him. Maybe both.

“No. No kids, either,” he said to keep it simple. After what Kate had been through, he didn’t want her to hear what had happened to him. She had to be traumatized enough already.

“Oh.” She drank the rest of her milk. A white mustache covered her upper lip when she put the glass down, but she quickly grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. She was beginning to cross the boundary between child and young woman, and he liked that stage, admired the innocence of it.

Jane brought him three eggs and some toast. He thanked her and began to eat.

Kate continued to stare. “Do you like kids?” she asked as her mother cracked more eggs into the frying pan.

“Kate-” Jane started, but he shook his head to indicate he’d answer.

“I like them very much.”

“Even girls?” she asked hopefully.

Putting down his fork, he pretended to contemplate that question. “Yes,” he said with a decisive nod. “Every bit as much as boys. Why?”

Her gaze slid away from him for the first time that morning. “I don’t think my daddy liked girls.”

Considering the scar on Jane’s neck, Sebastian could understand how she might’ve arrived at that conclusion. “But that’s not because of you. You understand that, right? Some people don’t like anybody.”

She toyed with what was left of her meal. “Sometimes he was nice.”

Her confusion broke his heart. “It’d be easier if the people who hurt others came with a warning sign on their foreheads, don’t you think?”

She giggled. “Yeah.”

He picked up his fork and went back to his meal, but she wasn’t finished speaking. “He killed my uncle,” she said.

Sebastian could tell that Jane was dying to put a stop to the conversation, but he was grateful she had enough faith in him to let him handle it. “That’s what I hear.”

“And he stabbed my mom.” She touched her neck. “Right here.”

A wave of protectiveness swept through him. “I’ve seen the scar. That’s very sad.”

“She almost died.”

“I’m glad she didn’t.”

“Me, too. But…I don’t think my aunt Wendy’s glad.”

There was a clatter behind him. Sebastian turned to see that Jane had dropped her spatula. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Maybe she’s confused about what really happened,” he said to Kate.

“That’s what I think. That’s what my grandma says, too.”

“Kate, concentrate on eating so you won’t be late for school,” Jane said.

“I’m full.” Setting her knife and fork on her plate, she got up to carry everything to the counter.

“Then get your teeth brushed,” her mother said.

Kate started to leave but paused at the hallway entrance to address him one more time. “You’d never hurt anyone, would you?” she asked.

The bite he’d been about to take hovered in midair. “Never.”

Doubling back, she gave him an unexpected hug. He didn’t even have the chance to put down his fork and hug her back. “I like you,” she whispered before her mother could shoo her out of the kitchen.

Clearly embarrassed, Jane laughed. “Sorry about that.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked.

“The questions, the fascination, the sudden affection. I’m sure it was a bit overwhelming.”

It wasn’t overwhelming; it was endearing. Kate’s behavior reminded Sebastian of how quick children were to love, how quick to forgive, how much they wanted to trust adults, how much he missed his own child. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re definitely a novelty around here.”

Sebastian thought he heard his phone ringing in the living room. He paused to listen when Kate hurried in with it. “It’s-” she checked his caller ID “-Constance Sherwood,” she said as she handed it to him.

He would’ve let it go to voice mail, but she’d just announced that a woman was trying to reach him at seven in the morning. It would look odd if he didn’t answer. “Thanks,” he said and hit the talk button. “Hello?”

“Is it true?” Constance demanded.

He was aware of Jane collecting her car keys and her purse as he answered. “Is what true?”

“I got another call from Malcolm last night.”

The tension Sebastian was so familiar with returned. “What’d he say?”

“That you’ve been sleeping with his ex-girlfriend.”

Why would Malcolm bother to call Constance about that? Just to cause trouble? What a vindictive bastard. “That’s a lie. He said the same thing about Emily, remember? He’s insecure, paranoid.”

“So you haven’t been with her.”

Jane stood at the front door, waiting for Kate to zip her backpack. He looked up to see if she was listening and saw her watching him. “I just told you I haven’t.”

“Is everything okay?” Jane asked.

Apparently, she could sense the change in him. To keep Constance from realizing he wasn’t alone, so the conversation wouldn’t deteriorate into a senseless argument, he nodded instead of speaking. But the suspicion in her next question indicated that she’d heard Jane’s voice. “Have you been with anyone?”

Memories of Jane in the shower filled his mind, from the thrill that’d gone through him when he first heard the door, to the sweet taste of her mouth, to the warmth and softness of her beautiful body. She hadn’t been timid last night. She was beginning to lower her guard, to feel comfortable with him-to ask for more, take more, give more. He liked that. A lot.

“Sebastian?” Connie repeated.

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to hear the answer,” he said.

“That’s a yes! Were you cheating on me the whole time? Have you met someone? Is that why you won’t come home?”

She still didn’t understand what was driving him, how the murders had affected him. Maybe she never would. “I can’t come home until I find Malcolm. You know that. It hasn’t changed.”

“But you’ve met someone else, haven’t you?”

He waved goodbye to Kate as she and Jane left the condo. Then he strode over to the window so he could see them get into the car. “Maybe.”

The silence that followed was more deafening than Constance’s customary rapid-fire questions.

“I’m sorry,” he added. “I-it’s my fault we fell apart, Connie. I’m just in a different place right now, and I can’t find my way back.”

“You haven’t even tried,” she complained.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. Come home to me. Come today.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No.”

“Who is it?” she demanded. “Who are you seeing?”

“No one I’ve mentioned before. I just met her.”

“You can’t give me a name? We were together for six years and you can’t respect me and my feelings enough to give me a name?”

Did they have to do this? “I don’t want to hurt you even more by talking about another woman.”

“Just tell me where you met her.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “She works for The Last Stand, okay? It’s a victims’ charity here in Sacramento. She’s helping me search for Malcolm.”

“So that’s where I went wrong. I should’ve flown out there and proved my devotion by dedicating my life to your investigation.”

He wanted to hang up, to silence her with the simple push of a button. But they’d been together for a long time, and as he’d told her, he felt the breakup was more his fault than hers. The least he could do was make sure it ended well. “Stop the sarcasm, Connie. I never expected you to fly out here. I’m not holding it against you that you didn’t. Jane’s been through a lot. I’ve been through a lot. We have some common ground. That’s all. Somehow we…fit. At least for now.”

“I was such a fool,” she said.

He winced at the sob in her voice. “You weren’t a fool.”

“Anyone who loves you is a fool!” she spat and disconnected.

Sebastian shoved his phone in his pocket. “Shit!” He had so much adrenaline charging through him that it was fifteen minutes before he could settle down enough to think. Then, trying to forget that he’d just hurt the woman who’d been waiting for him for a year, he logged on to his computer.

There was another e-mail waiting for him-from Malcolm.

What? You don’t have anything to say? You can’t even respond?

Sebastian wanted to respond. He wanted to tell him to set Latisha free, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Sebastian was also tempted to tell Malcolm what a sick son of a bitch he was for doing what he’d done to Marcie. But that would only let Malcolm know how squarely he’d hit his target, and Sebastian refused to give him that satisfaction.

Forgoing all the accusations and recriminations that churned in his head, he wrote the one thing that really mattered.

You said it all. It’s you or me.

“Glib asshole,” Malcolm muttered.

“What is it?” Latisha asked.

He glanced over at the table, where she was eating the chocolate he’d purchased when they’d gone grocery shopping this morning. Latisha seemed to believe what he’d told her about the murder of his family. He supposed it didn’t hurt that he’d been a cop. That provided him with a certain amount of credibility. But he hadn’t expected to find her sympathy so irresistible. He was growing more and more certain that he wanted to keep her forever. “The man who killed my wife and son,” he said. “He’s answering the e-mail I sent him before we went to the store. He’s taunting me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he thinks he can get away with it.”

She seemed to consider his response. “What will you do when you catch up with him?”

Kill him like he deserved. But he couldn’t say that. Not to Latisha. He was still trying to reassure her that he wasn’t guilty of her sister’s murder. Her youth and naivet'e worked in his favor, but she was brighter than a lot of girls her age. “Make sure he goes to prison.”

“It’s so sad that no one believes you, that you can’t convince the other officers that he’s alive. You shouldn’t have to do this all alone.”

He smiled to himself. “DNA is powerful evidence.” Lord, didn’t he know it. “And unfortunately the DNA evidence suggests Sebastian’s dead.”

“You’ll get him.”

“Damn right I will.”

“Are we still going to watch the movie we rented?” she asked.

Now that he no longer had a relationship with Mary, he had nothing better to do. He was just getting up from his chair when he got a new message. Pausing to check what had come in, he was surprised to see an e-mail from Constance.

If he’d ever doubted that Mary had been working with Sebastian, this was proof. Constance had the same e-mail address as before; he recognized it from the various communications they’d had regarding Colton. But his address was new, something he’d created after moving to Sacramento. She could only have gotten it from Mary through Sebastian.

“Damn her,” he muttered, thinking about Mary. He’d expected so much more from her.

He clicked on the message and scanned the contents.

He’s not sleeping with Mary. He’s with a woman named Jane, a victims’ advocate from a charity there in Sacramento called The Last Stand. It sounds as if she’s helping him find you. It sounds as if they’re close.

Confused, he read those lines again. “What? Why the hell would she tell me that?”

“Tell you what?” Latisha asked.

“Nothing.” He considered the possibilities, but it didn’t take long to decide on the most likely scenario. Sebastian had dumped the proud Constance Sherwood for another woman, and she wanted revenge.

What an unlikely ally. He couldn’t help laughing at this fortuitous turn of events.

“Wes? What about the movie?” Latisha asked.

“Be there in a minute,” he told her. “Go ahead and start it without me.” Settling back in his chair, he opened his Internet browser and did a search for The Last Stand.

In seconds he had a picture of the building that housed the charity, their mission statement and what he’d been looking for all along-their address. Now he just needed to figure out what he was going to do with Latisha while he was gone.

Rocking back, he glanced around the kitchen and spotted the sack of groceries they’d purchased, still sitting on the counter. Latisha had put away the perishable items, but there were a few things in the sack-one of which was a bottle of rum.

“How’s the movie?” he called out.

“Good,” she replied. “You done? You coming?”

Letting his computer hibernate, he poured them each a glass of rum and Coke. He wished he’d thought to drop by the Red Room Motel off Stockton Boulevard on their way home. He’d met a dealer there who’d give him a good price on some speed. That’d be quicker to use, more fun. But he was all out.

The alcohol would have to do.

“Want a drink?” He carried the glasses into the living room, then went back for the bottles.

Latisha watched him. “What’s all this?”

“Rum and Coke.”

“I’ve never had rum and Coke. Gloria doesn’t let us drink.”

“It doesn’t hurt if you only do it once in a while.” He handed her a glass. “Come on, I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?” she asked.

“You,” he said. Then he toasted their upcoming marriage, his love for her, their odd meeting, her willingness to trust him, her forgiveness, her beauty. Before long, she was so drunk she could hardly stand up.

“Latisha’s alive!” Gloria screeched.

It was late afternoon, but Jane had just arrived at the office. Dropping her purse and her briefcase on the floor in the reception area, she gripped the phone tighter. She’d expected a far different greeting when she’d answered this call. “How do you know?”

“I just got an e-mail from her.”

“You’re sure it’s her?”

“It came from her account. She’s the only one who’d know the password. It has to be her.”

Jane didn’t see how it could be anyone else. Not unless Latisha had shared her password. “I guess so.” She hoped so. “What did she say?”

“She say she fine. She don’t want me to worry ’bout her. She say she comin’ home in two weeks.”

The oddity of the message pierced through Jane’s elation. “Two weeks? Did she mention how or why?”

“No.”

What was going on? Malcolm couldn’t afford to let Latisha go. If they ever caught him-and they would-she’d be a witness for the prosecution. “Did she give you any clue about her location or surroundings?”

“No,” Gloria said, but the lack of answers didn’t seem to dampen her relief and excitement. She wanted to believe what she’d read, wanted to believe it so badly she wouldn’t look any deeper. “Hallelujah! She alive! She’ll be comin’ home soon.”

Only if they found her before Malcolm killed her. He couldn’t have let Latisha go or there’d be no two-week delay. And if she’d managed to get free on her own, why would she send an e-mail? Why wouldn’t she just come home?

Something was up. “Have you called Detective Willis?”

“Not yet. I wanted to tell you first. I’m starin’ at her message right now. I can’t hardly believe it.”

“Gloria, I…” She’d been about to explain why this message might not be a good thing. It wasn’t fair to get Gloria’s hopes up and then have them dashed in the cruelest possible way, which to Jane’s mind was a greater possibility than Malcolm releasing Latisha on a specific day. But she couldn’t bring herself to spoil Gloria’s happiness. Besides, she didn’t know everything. Maybe she was wrong.

“What?” Gloria said when she didn’t continue.

“I want you to know that we do care.”

“I know you do,” she said. “That’s why I called you.”

“We’ll find her before those two weeks are up,” Jane said. “Detective Willis and several other officers are canvassing my neighborhood. Surely, someone saw something.” Sebastian had been at the complex all morning, too, talking to anyone he could, but she figured there wasn’t any reason to explain who Sebastian was. “I’m going back in a few minutes to help. I had to open the office for the volunteers who do telephone soliciting around dinnertime.”

“Will you let me know what the police find?” Gloria asked.

“I will.”

Jane had just hung up and was picking up her purse and briefcase when Jonathan let himself in. “Good, you’re here.”

“You’ve been looking for me?”

“That security guard over at Cache Creek called this morning to say he’s found several images of your man.”

They’d already established that Malcolm frequented the casino, but Jane wanted to see him in action. “Can we view those images?”

“He burned us a DVD of the segments that contain Malcolm.”

“Great! I’ll head over there right away.”

“I already got it for you.” He took it from his coat pocket and held it up for her to see.

“How nice!” she said.

“I figured you were pretty busy, what with your guest and all.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How’d you know I have a guest?”

“After I got the message, I tried to call you and Kate answered. She said you were in the Quick Stop, picking up a snack for her lunch.”

“I’m assuming that wasn’t all she said.”

He grinned. “No. She was pretty excited to report that you’d had a man stay the night. She seemed quite taken with him.”

They must’ve been on their way to school. “She didn’t tell me you called,” Jane said.

“I told her not to worry about it, that I’d contact you later. Then I went to get the DVD myself.”

Jane wondered how long it would be before Kate mentioned Sebastian to the Burkes-or Wendy. “Have you seen it?”

“Not yet. I just got back and now I have to run off again.”

“I appreciate the help.” She tried to take the DVD, but he held it out of reach.

“Jane, I hope you know what you’re doing with this Sebastian guy. I really don’t want to see you get hurt.” He looked-and sounded-more serious than he usually did.

Grabbing his arm, she finally got her hands on the DVD, which she promptly put in her purse. “I won’t get hurt,” she said, scoffing as if it was ridiculous to worry. But she knew there were no guarantees. Especially now. Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, she was falling in love with Sebastian.

And love had never been kind to her before.