The Perfect Murder

Twenty-Eight

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.

“You can’t guess? She’s not very big. She’s a half-pint, really, especially compared to you. But she sure is a handful. Oooeee, what a feisty thing. Pretty, too. I can see why you’d like her, although she doesn’t seem like the snobbish type you used to date.”

Nausea roiled in Sebastian’s stomach. He knew what Malcolm was capable of doing and felt helpless to stop him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? Tsk, tsk. I thought you might be skeptical. But, here, I’ll make it easy.”

Sebastian’s grip tightened on the phone as he heard Malcolm encourage someone to speak. Then Jane’s voice came through, her words a frantic rush. “Don’t do it, Sebastian! Don’t do anything he asks! Take care of Kate and stay away-”

The scream that cut off those words went through Sebastian like a shard of glass. Swallowing hard, he glanced at Jane’s daughter. She was still standing in the hall, watching him curiously. “Malcolm, don’t you dare…”

“Don’t dare what?” he taunted. “Don’t kill her? I might’ve broken her jaw, but she’s not dead. Yet. You’re the one who’ll decide her fate. Not me.”

Somehow, he had to remove Malcolm’s power. “You’re punishing the wrong person,” he said. “I don’t care about her. Not like you think. There’s no way to hurt me through her.”

Sebastian had struggled to make that lie convincing, but his performance evoked a laugh. “Nice try. But I know better. You dropped Constance for her, didn’t you?”

“No. Constance and I grew apart.” Jane was proof of how far they’d drifted. But there was no denying that she made him whole in a way Constance never had.

“That’s not what Constance told me,” Malcolm said.

“You’re lying. Constance might be angry, but she’d never contact you. She hates you, just like I do.”

“Well, you know what they say about a woman scorned. I can forward you the e-mail, if you like.”

It was true, then. Malcolm was taking as much pleasure in letting him know that Constance had betrayed him as he was in having the upper hand with Jane.

Closing his eyes, Sebastian kneaded his forehead. What could he do?

“Sebastian? Is everything okay?” Kate asked.

She was getting frightened. He spoke to her openly, so Malcolm wouldn’t feel threatened by any whispering and harm Jane. “It’s fine. Are you done with your homework?”

“Except a couple of really hard problems.”

“Can you work on them a little longer?” he asked. “I’d help you but this is a very important business call.”

“So it has nothing to do with my mom?”

He winced at the hope in her eyes. “No.” Would he have to recant later? Would he have to tell her that her mother was dead?

Visions of Emily’s lifeless body, of Colton’s, stole his strength. No…

“Who’s that?” Malcolm demanded.

“Can’t you tell? It’s a child.”

“Whose child?”

Sebastian waited until Kate was back in her room. “Jane’s,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “If you kill Jane, you’ll make this child an orphan.”

“If you care about Jane or her child, I suggest you do everything I say.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m offering you a trade-your life for hers.”

“How?”

“Come to the farmhouse.”

Sebastian preferred to keep Malcolm in town, if possible, where there’d be a better chance of escaping or getting help. “I don’t know where that is.”

“Then get a pen. I’ll give you the address.”

What should he do?

“You still there, tough guy?” Malcolm asked.

“I’m here,” Sebastian said from between clenched teeth and pretended to write down the address he rattled off. “When can we meet?”

“Now.”

“You’re asking for trouble, Malcolm. The police haven’t even finished processing the house. They could be there for all you know.”

“Crime-scene techs don’t work this late, not when they’ve got most of it done. And the police are in no hurry because they can’t even find the suspect. We’ll be fine.”

As usual, it was too easy for Malcolm. Sebastian wanted to tell him he’d go to prison or hell-preferably the latter. But Kate had come out of her room again, this time on the pretense of getting a glass of water. “She’s your only leverage,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He chuckled. “That’s one hell of a way to make your point, Sebastian. She’s your only leverage. That’s all you’ve got to say?”

That was all he could say in front of Kate. “I’ll make the trade. Just…see that you don’t-” he glanced over at Kate, who was watching him as she sipped from a glass “-you know.”

“I won’t hurt her. Unless you call the police. Do that and she’s dead.”

Sebastian knew that unless they got very lucky, Malcolm would kill her regardless. “I’m on my way.”

“Clock’s ticking,” he said. Then he was gone.

Jane was handcuffed to a rod in the back of a utility van that had no windows, other than those in the front. She could feel the tires thrumming against the pavement, could hear music playing on the radio. And once she’d managed to focus her blurry vision, she could see the back of the man who’d attacked her when she’d gotten into her car. It was Malcolm Turner. She would’ve known him even if she hadn’t carried his picture around with her every minute for a week. She hadn’t found him; he’d found her.

After subduing her long enough to bind and gag her, he’d disappeared. But he’d returned almost immediately, this time with a white van he left idling beside her Camry while he dragged her from one vehicle to the other.

Jane vaguely remembered him using her cell phone to call Sebastian. Then a torrent of memories descended-what he’d said on the phone and how explosively he’d reacted when she’d tried to tell Sebastian not to listen. It hurt to move her jaw. The way her cheekbone throbbed made her wonder if he’d broken bones in her face. Her right eye was so swollen she couldn’t completely open it.

Had she escaped Oliver only to die at the hands of the man who’d killed Marcie? If she was murdered today, what would happen to Kate? Would Wendy raise her?

God, no-please, no. She could imagine the many small ways Wendy might torture Kate for mistakes that had nothing to do with her. Wendy wouldn’t do it intentionally, of course. She was basically a decent person, and had once been someone Jane admired very much. But the hurt and resentment that had festered since Noah’s death would eventually manifest itself. Jane felt sure of it. Problem was, she didn’t want Kate to live with the Burkes, either. They were too old to be raising children.

Kate needed her mother. Which meant Jane’s only option was to get out of this alive. As frightened as she was, as unsure as she felt of her own ability to withstand this fresh onslaught of terror, she had to dig deep, think quick, act brave.

She looked at the tattoo on her hand. She saw no answers there, but she did see a reminder of who she was. She’d been through this before and survived it. She would survive again. For Kate’s sake. For Sebastian. Finally, she had a chance at happiness. She wasn’t going to let someone like Malcolm take that away.

“Hey, you coming around back there?” Malcolm hollered.

Jane hadn’t expected him to speak to her. He’d seemed too absorbed in his thoughts and the music.

With a tortured sigh, she laid her throbbing head on her arms.

When she didn’t answer, he turned around to see her. She could hear the difference in the volume of his voice. “How you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been beaten up by a loser with no conscience,” she muttered.

“That’s funny,” he said. “You’re a real comedian. But maybe you should show some respect and just be glad you weren’t killed by that ‘loser.’ It’s not too late for me to change my mind, you know.”

She knew that very well. But if he hadn’t killed her already, he was keeping her alive for a reason.

“What are you doing, Malcolm?” Her tone suggested he was nothing more than a recalcitrant child. She wasn’t about to give him the pleasure of revealing how much he frightened her.

“You know what I’m doing. I’m using you to get to Sebastian. I’m tired of his bullshit. We’re going to get this over with once and for all. And then I’ll be free.”

“Maybe you’ll kill Sebastian. Maybe you’ll kill me, too. But you won’t be free. Your actions will be with you every day of your life. My partners at The Last Stand won’t rest until they track you down and put you in jail. It will never be over.”

“Don’t try to scare me,” he said. “I outsmarted the entire police department back in Jersey. I can certainly handle three broads running a two-bit charity. They wouldn’t find me. No one will.” He laughed triumphantly. “Sebastian wouldn’t have been able to follow me to Sacramento if I hadn’t been stupid enough to trust Mary. And I never would’ve gotten back at him if he hadn’t been stupid enough to trust Constance. It’s trust that gets you into trouble every damn time. If you don’t trust anyone, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“If you don’t trust anyone, you don’t really have a life,” she told him. “You might go through the motions, but it doesn’t mean anything.” She groaned as if trying to get more comfortable, but she was really testing the handcuffs. Was there any way to slip her hands out?

No, they were so tight they were cutting into her wrists. The pole was solid, too. Even if she used all her strength, she wouldn’t be able to bend or break it. She was trussed up like a turkey, completely powerless as they hurtled closer and closer to the fate Malcolm had planned for her. “Believe me, I know about trust,” she added.

“You sound jaded.”

“I’ve got good reason to be.”

“Yeah, well, don’t we all.”

Where was her cell phone? Malcolm had taken it. He’d grabbed it from her right before plunging his fist into her face. Or maybe he’d hit her with something other than his fist? She hadn’t actually seen a weapon, but it’d felt more like a baseball bat.

“What would make you forget about Sebastian?” she asked.

He laughed out loud. “Now you’re trying to bargain with me?”

“You’ve already killed his son. Isn’t that enough?”

“Colton was just like his father. He deserved it.”

“Colton was a child.”

“Shut up! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

She pushed against the back doors with her feet. Maybe he hadn’t locked them properly. “You’d be smarter to toss me out on the side of the road and take off while you can.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re both dead.”

Those words brought back the fear. His intentions were unmistakable. And no matter how hard she pressed on the doors, they wouldn’t budge. There was no way to free herself, no way out. “You won’t get away with it,” she said. But with every passing mile, it looked more and more as if he would.

Sebastian had dropped Kate off at Jane’s in-laws and was racing through the countryside in his Pontiac. The police still had possession of the Lexus. He was getting charged for both cars, but that was the least of his worries right now. He hadn’t called the cops about what was going on, but it wasn’t because Malcolm had warned him not to. He planned to text David once he reached the house. He had the message all typed out. He just needed to buy himself a little time first. He couldn’t afford to have the police take control before he was ready, and he knew if he involved them they’d do exactly that. He was only a civilian. They’d tell him to stay out of the way. But he couldn’t trust them to save Jane. David cared about her, but not as much as Sebastian did. This was between him and the man who’d already killed his son. He’d known it would come down to this eventually…

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t second-guessing himself with every passing minute. As he drove closer to the ranch, he also grew more inclined to call David before he got there. Was he overestimating his abilities?

He didn’t think so, but maybe he was no longer capable of being objective. He kept recalling the moment he’d laid eyes on the cold body of his son. Colton and Emily had been killed before Sebastian had even realized they were facing a serious problem. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Ever. Not to anyone he loved. He’d save Jane if he had to sacrifice his own life to do it. A cop could give her no more.

The gun he normally carried under his seat rested in his lap. He was willing to use it if he had to-but he knew a weapon was no guarantee. Malcolm would have a gun, too.

So how would he get Jane out of the house before all hell broke loose?

He’d try to outsmart the son of a bitch.

The ranch house came up on his right. Slowing to a crawl, he found the driveway and inched forward, eventually parking to the left of a white van. Except for a single porch light, the place was dark. Malcolm had made it impossible for Sebastian to see inside.

But Sebastian had chosen the perfect parking spot; Malcolm couldn’t see him, either. He wasn’t about to march up to the front door. If Malcolm could get off a clean shot, take him down that easily, he’d do it. Then there’d be no reason for him to keep Jane alive.

After sending David the text, he left his keys in the ignition so Jane could drive it if he was lucky enough to get her out of the house, and he went around to the trunk. There, he peeled off his coat and strapped on a bulletproof vest he’d bought over the Internet several months ago. He had a flashlight in the trunk, too, as well as a pair of infrared goggles and an army helmet to strap it to. Twelve months of preparation had come down to this.

Although the temperature felt like it was dropping fast, Sebastian put his coat in the trunk. He didn’t want to wear anything that might restrict his movements. He had too much adrenaline pouring through him to be bothered by the cold, anyway. “This is it,” he promised himself. “This is where it ends.”

After stuffing ammunition in every pocket, he closed the trunk with a quiet click. Then he crouched with his gun at the ready and began working his way to the back of the house.