Home > The Perfect Murder (Last Stand #6)(89)

The Perfect Murder (Last Stand #6)(89)
Author: Brenda Novak

The woman wasn’t going to show. Had something happened to her? Or had she simply chickened out? Jane knew that the people who most needed help were the last ones to follow through. There were a lot of reasons for that, many of which Jane understood. But she’d thought this woman had seemed ready to change her situation.

Frustrated that she’d wasted so much time waiting around for nothing, at 6:45 p.m. she grabbed her briefcase and turned off the light in her office. She’d just called Sebastian and Kate to tell them she was on her way. They’d saved her some pizza and wanted her to hurry so they could see a movie. She was still a little nervous about letting them spend a lot of time together. She was afraid the stability Sebastian offered would prove to be an illusion, as it had with Oliver. But he and Kate seemed to be getting along. Kate had sounded happy on the phone.

“You have to take some chances,” she reminded herself. Sebastian wouldn’t disappoint her. She’d never met anyone like him.

Her cell rang as she locked the building. She dug it out of her purse, saw that it was her mother-in-law and hit the talk button as she crossed the lot to her car. “Hello?”

“Jane?”

They hadn’t spoken since Sebastian’s uncomfortable confrontation with Wendy. Jane wasn’t sure she wanted to have a conversation with her just yet. She had no idea how Betty might react to what had happened Sunday night and didn’t want to deal with a negative response. “Yes?”

“How are you?”

Using the button on her key ring to unlock the car, she tossed her briefcase onto the passenger seat, but she was too nervous and preoccupied to climb in. She stood next to the car, her head bowed as she kicked a pebble from foot to foot. “I’m fine. You?”

“I’m good. I just…I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

Not really. But Betty had never used this tone of voice with her. At least, not since Oliver was killed. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Mom, don’t be-”

“I can’t help it,” she interrupted. “I know I’ve been at you to start dating again. But that man you brought here last night…Are you sure he’s the type you want to get involved with?”

Jane hadn’t been sure about anything, but she immediately felt defensive of Sebastian. Maybe he’d interfered with something he should’ve left alone, but he’d done it to protect her. She believed that much. She also believed it was more than Oliver would’ve done. “I know he might not have given you the best impression. But he’s a very nice person.”

“You’re sure? You haven’t known him long. That’s what surprised me-that he’d attack Wendy when he’s not really part of your life.”

He was part of her life. He just wasn’t part of their family. That was the real difficulty for Betty, and Jane knew it. As much as she wanted Jane to be happy, she also didn’t want Jane to be with someone who threatened the existing relationships. “He’s…different from us,” she explained. “If he has a problem with you, he makes it clear. He doesn’t pretend.”

“But…is that polite?”

Jane nearly chuckled. Oliver had been a serial killer, but he’d always been polite. “Maybe not. It’s honest, though. I think I need honest more than I need polite at this stage of my life.” Jane checked the time on her phone. If she didn’t get moving, they’d miss the movie.

“So you like him.”

There was some disappointment in that statement, but Jane took it at face value. She thought of Sebastian’s confidence and no-nonsense approach to life and smiled as she got behind the wheel. “Yeah, I like him.”

“A lot?”

Jane was fairly certain that what she felt was much stronger than “like,” but it was premature to admit it. “Enough that I’d like you to give him a chance.”

Betty hesitated but ultimately acquiesced. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

Jane smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Be careful,” she said, and Jane didn’t ask her to explain. They both knew what was at stake.

“I will. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

When they hung up, Jane was still preoccupied by the conversation and by the cautious hope she was feeling. She made a move to set her phone on the console so she could start the car, but it was wrenched from her grasp-and a pair of strong hands cut off her breath before she could scream.

Where the hell was she?

Sebastian paced the living room of Jane’s condo. She’d said she was leaving the office, but that was more than thirty minutes ago. It didn’t take thirty minutes to drive to Howe Avenue. He might’ve thought her appointment had shown up at the last second, but if that was the case, why hadn’t she called him?

With a curse, he dialed her cell again. He’d already tried half a dozen times to reach her. Every call went straight to voice mail.

This one was no different. “Damn it!” he said and threw his phone on the couch in frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

Kate stood at the entrance of the hall, her expression worried. After pizza, Sebastian had encouraged her to get her homework done so they could go to the movie. She’d been in her room long enough that he’d assumed she was engrossed in her math.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, but he was too upset to sit down. It felt as if he should be doing something with his hands. What, he had no idea, so he thrust them in his pockets.

“Where’s Mom? Didn’t she say she was on her way home?”

“She probably stopped off at the store.” He spoke casually, but when his phone rang, he snatched it off the couch.

Unidentified appeared on caller ID.

He punched the talk button. “Hello?”

“I’ve got something you want,” a man said.

Sebastian’s chest constricted until he could hardly breathe. He recognized that voice. Although it had been a while, he’d talked to this person at least every weekend for several years. It was Malcolm Turner, Colton’s stepfather and murderer, the man he’d spent an entire year searching for. “What is it?” he asked, but he was stalling, trying to come to grips with what might be going on. In his heart, he knew Malcolm was talking about Jane. He’d have to be an idiot not to know. He could tell by Malcolm’s self-satisfaction.

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