“Are you sure it was Lynnette?” Wearing jeans, a lightweight sweater and his signature Hush Puppies, David’s father stood a foot or so away from David, who was leaning on his own car.
“I’m sure.”
“I know she’s going through a hard time, but I never would’ve guessed she’d be capable of such a thing,” he marveled, shaking his head.
“I’ve lived with her and I didn’t suspect,” David said.
“Could it be her illness?”
“I guess it made her feel more desperate, which contributed. But she knew what she was doing.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“She’ll go to prison. Conspiracy to commit murder is a felony.” David crossed his legs, stared at the ground.
“Will they look after her there?”
“Of course.”
His dad whistled as he scratched his neck. “Your mother’s not going to like this.”
His mother was inside with Jeremy, buying them a few minutes alone, so they could talk. His father would give her all the details once David was gone and Jeremy was preoccupied with something else. “It happens,” he said. “I just never dreamed it’d happen to me. And I wish…I wish I could’ve loved her like she wanted me to.”
“At this point, I’m damn glad you don’t love her, or this would be even harder on you.”
“It’s going to hurt Jeremy.”
His dad reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Jeremy will be fine. He’s got you, hasn’t he? And he’s got us.”
He’d also have Skye. “I’ve met someone else,” David said.
His dad gave him a lopsided grin as he dropped his hand. “Let me guess—the woman who was wearing your boxers the other day?”
David laughed. “That’s the one.”
“Your mother mentioned her.”
“I figured she would.”
“Do you love her?”
“I’ve loved her for a long time.”
“Then hang on to that,” his father said. “It just might pull you through.”
“I’d better go. With traffic, it’s a four-hour drive.” David embraced his father, then got back in the car.
“We’ll take care of Jeremy,” his father said when David had rolled down the window. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Dad?”
“What?”
David almost told him about the baby. The more he thought about having another child, a brother or sister for Jeremy, the more excited he became. But, for now, it was a secret he decided to keep, something he would share only with Skye. “Thanks.”
“That’s what we’re here for—the tough times.” His father waved as David backed out of the drive and, despite everything, David found himself smiling as he headed for the freeway. But he wasn’t smiling for long. He was just getting on 680 when his cell phone rang.
“Detective Willis,” he said as he answered.
“It’s Miranda Dodge.”
He would’ve recognized her voice even if she hadn’t identified herself. “How are you?”
“Not so good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just received an e-mail from Oliver Burke.”
David turned down the radio. “He signed it?”
“Yes.”
“What’d he say?”
“I’ll read it to you.” There was some shuffling, then she started. “‘A detective visited me in the hospital a few weeks ago, asking about Eugene Zufelt. Are you the one who told him about Eugene? You’re always trying to get me in trouble, you know that? You told your parents I was spying on you when I was only watching what you wanted to show me in the first place (you know it’s true). You told the principal on me for writing those notes, which I didn’t write. And now you’re talking to the police, trying to make them curious about an accident.
“‘What’s going on? It’s almost as if you’re obsessed with me. It’s been years! But I can’t forget you, either. Maybe we should get together and fan the old spark into a flame.
“‘Let me know what works for you. If you’re married, we can get a hotel room.
“‘Love always, Oliver.’”
David didn’t want Miranda or anyone else to get hurt. But he couldn’t help feeling a small measure of relief that Oliver seemed to be fixated on someone other than Skye for the moment. He could get the police involved on Miranda’s behalf, make sure they looked after her, just in case Oliver was heading that way. Then he could take care of the mess Lynnette had made of her life without having to worry too much about Skye while he was doing it.
“Is he completely delusional?” Miranda demanded.
“He twists reality into what he wants it to be, then lashes out when other people won’t conform and he’s confronted with how they really feel. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can do to get you some protection.” David hung up, then contacted directory assistance for the number of the police department where Miranda lived. But halfway through the conversation, he began to feel uneasy. It was strange that Burke had been that overt. It was just too clueless for such a smart man. As David thought about it, it seemed increasingly unlikely.
Had Burke sent that e-mail because he was after Miranda? Or was it merely a decoy?
Oliver could hear the jingle of Skye’s keys as she came through the front door. Unfortunately, he could also hear her voice. She was on the phone.
Pressing his back to the wall of her bedroom, he decided to bide his time. He’d been ready for a couple of hours, but there was no need to rush her. Giving himself away too soon would only send her running from the house, screaming into her cell for help. Then whoever she was talking to would contact the police. And what was the point of that? He’d already broken the one back window, where Bishop or someone else had taken off the wrought-iron bars. If Skye had walked around the place, she might’ve spotted the glass, but she’d come through the front door—just as he’d expected.
She was probably too caught up in her phone conversation, or she didn’t like the idea of walking outside in the dark.
He’d chosen a good night. The fog was thick and the crickets loud.
The bolt clicked, then the chain slid into place. See? he told himself. She thought she was perfectly safe. And that made his plan even more titillating. He’d take the whole night, use every device he could find to inflict pain, make her beg like no one else. She’d apologize to him for Noah and Jane. He had only to wait for the perfect moment….