Brazen Virtue (23 page)

She had everything she wanted: a loving husband, kids that made her laugh, a house filled with character, and, hopefully, a Chevy that didn’t misfire. Bending back over her account book, she began to work.

Half an hour later, she remembered Harry’s advice about her contacts. They had been her one true personal indulgence. She hated glasses, had hated them since she’d put on her first pair at the age of eight. She’d been wearing Coke-bottle lenses by high school and had embarrassed herself time after time by walking blindly down the halls because she refused to put her glasses on. Always one to know what she wanted and how to get it, she’d taken a summer job in her junior year and spent every dime on contact lenses. Since that moment, she’d gotten into the habit of popping them in almost from her first waking moment and leaving them in place until she climbed into bed.

Because reading or bookwork made her eyes ache after a few hours, she often took them out, then with her nose against the page finished the job. With a little grumble of complaint, she got up and went upstairs to take them out for the night.

As in all things, Mary Beth was conscientious. She cleaned her lenses, put them in new solution, and left them to soak. Because Pat liked to poke in the vanity drawers for lipstick, Mary Beth put the case on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. Leaning close to the bathroom mirror, she considered touching up her makeup. She and Harry hadn’t managed to find time to make love in days. But tonight, if they could tuck all the kids into bed …

With a smile, Mary Beth reached for her lipstick. When the dog began to bark, she ignored him. If he had to go out, he’d just have to hold his bladder a minute.

Jerald pushed open the door that led from the garage to the kitchen. He hadn’t felt this good in days. It was this edgy, one-foot-over-the-cliff feeling that really made life worthwhile. He should have realized it before. It was like being a demigod, one of the Greek myths with an immortal father and mortal mother. Heroic, ruthless, and blessed. That’s really what he was. His father was so powerful, so all-seeing, so untouchable. His mother was beautiful … and
flawed. That’s why, as their son, he could feel such power and know such fear. The combination was incredible. And because of all that he could feel such pity and such disdain for ordinary mortals. They walked blindly through life, never realizing how closely they marched with death, or how easily he could quicken death’s pace.

He was becoming more like his father every day, Jerald thought. More all-seeing, more all-knowing. Soon he wouldn’t need the computer to show him the way. He would simply know.

Wetting his lips, he peered through the crack of the door. He hadn’t counted on a dog. He could see it, backed into a corner of the kitchen and snarling. He’d have to kill it of course. His teeth gleamed in the darkness a minute as he considered it. He thought it was a pity he wouldn’t be able to take his time about it, to experiment. He opened the door a bit wider and started to step out when he heard her.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Binky, that’s enough. You’ll have Mr. Carlyse complaining again.” Moving by memory more than sight, Mary Beth walked to the back door without bothering with the lights. “Come on, out you go.”

From his corner, Binky continued to watch the garage door and snarl.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. I want to finish things up.” She walked over and took the dog by the collar. “Out, Binky. I can’t believe you’re worked up over a silly kitten. You’ll get used to her.” She pulled the dog to the door and gave him a none-too-gentle shove. The indulgent laugh caught in her throat when she turned.

She was everything Jerald had known she would be. Soft, warm, understanding. She’d been waiting for him, of course. She’d even put the dog outside so they wouldn’t be disturbed. She was so pretty with her big frightened eyes and her high rounded breasts. She smelled like honeysuckle. He remembered how she talked of making long,
slow love in a meadow. As he looked at her, he could almost see the clover.

He wanted to hold her, to let her do all the sweet, gentle things she’d promised. Then he wanted to give her the best. The ultimate.

“What do you want?” She could see little more than a shadow, but it was enough to have her heart pounding in her throat.

“Everything you promised, Mary Beth.”

“I don’t know you.” Stay calm, she ordered herself. If he’d come to rob the house, he could take whatever he wanted. She’d personally hand over her grandmother’s crystal goblets. Thank God the children weren’t home. Thank God they were safe. The Feldspars had been robbed last year, and it had taken months to straighten out the insurance. How long had Harry been gone? Her thoughts tumbled one into the next as she tried to hold on.

“Yes, you do. You’ve talked to me, really only to me all these nights. You always understood. Now we can finally be together.” He was walking toward her. She backed up until her hips hit the counter. “I’m going to give you more than you can imagine. I know how.”

“My husband’s coming right back.”

He just continued to smile, his eyes blank, his lips curved. “I want you to undress me the way you promised.” He gathered her hair in his hand. Not to hurt her, just to be firm. Women liked men to be firm, especially delicate women with gentle voices. “Now, Mary Beth. Take your clothes off, slowly. Then I want you to touch me, everywhere. Do all those sweet things to me, Mary Beth. All those sweet, gentle things you promised.”

He was just a child. Wasn’t he? She tried to focus on his face, but the room was dark and her vision fuzzy. “I can’t. You don’t want to do this. Just go and I’ll—” The words were cut off as he jerked her hair. She cringed back as his free hand covered her throat.

“You want to be persuaded. That’s all right.” He talked quietly, but his excitement was building, spreading, banding tight around his heart, pushing hard into his lungs. “Desiree wanted to be persuaded too. I didn’t mind. I loved her. She was perfect. I think you are too, but I need to be sure. I’ll undress you. I’ll touch you.” When he moved his hand from her throat to her breast she drew in her breath to scream. “Don’t.” His fingers dug in cruelly. His voice changed again. There was a whine in it now that was much more frightening than when he gave orders. “I don’t want you to scream. That’s not what I want and I’ll hurt you if you do. I liked hearing Roxanne scream, but not you. She was a slut, do you understand?”

“Yes.” She would have told him anything he wanted to hear. “Yes, I understand.”

“But you’re not a slut. You and Desiree are different. I could tell the minute I heard you.” He was calming again, calming, though he was hard as a rock and wanted to be free of his jeans. “Now, I want you to talk to me while I do this. Talk to me, like you did before.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Bile rose up as he pressed against her. God, he couldn’t be doing this. It couldn’t be happening. She wanted Harry. She wanted her babies. She wanted it to be over. “I don’t know you. You’re making a mistake.”

He brought his hand between her legs. He enjoyed the way she jerked and whimpered. She was ready for him all right, sweet and ready. “It’s going to be different this time. This time, we won’t hurry. I want you to show me things, do things, then when I’m finished it’ll be even better than the others. Touch me, Mary Beth. The others didn’t touch me.”

She was crying now and hating herself for it. This was her house, her home, and she wouldn’t be violated this way. She made herself reach for him, and waited until she heard him groan. Going with desperation, she rammed her elbow
into his stomach and ran. He caught her hair with a vicious jerk as her hand closed over the doorknob. The moment he did, she knew he was going to kill her.

“You lied. You’re a liar and a whore just like the others. So I’ll treat you like the others.” Near tears himself, he brought the back of his hand hard against her face. Her lip split. It was the taste of her own blood that galvanized her.

She was not going to die like this, in her own kitchen. She was not going to leave her husband and children alone. Screaming, she clawed at his face and when he yelped, managed to yank open the door. She’d intended to run for her life, but Binky wanted to be a hero.

The small dog had sharp teeth. He used them viciously on Jerald’s calf. Howling with rage, he managed to kick the dog aside, only to turn and find himself faced with the business end of a butcher knife.

“Get out of my house.” Mary Beth held the handle with both hands. She was too dazed to be surprised that she had every intention of using it if he took another step toward her.

Binky managed to get to his feet. As soon as he’d shaken his head clear, he began to growl again.

“Bitch,” Jerald hissed at her as he edged toward the door. None of them had ever hurt him before. His face was aching, and his leg—he could feel the warm, wet blood seep through his jeans. He’d make her pay. He’d make all of them pay. “Lying whores, all of you. I only wanted to give you what you wanted. I was going to be good to you.” There was a whine in his voice again that made her shudder. He sounded like a small, evil boy who’d broken his favorite toy. “I was going to give you the best. Next time you’re all going to suffer.”

When Harry brought the kids home twenty minutes later, Mary Beth was sitting at the kitchen table, still holding the butcher knife and watching the back door.

♦  ♦  ♦

W
INE ALL AROUND, EXCEPT
for the expectant mother.” Grace passed out glasses as Ben poured. “You get some kind of juice, Tess. God knows what it is, you can never tell with Ed.”

“Papaya,” Ed muttered as Tess sniffed dubiously at her glass.

“A toast then.” Grace lifted her glass in salute. “To new beginnings and continuity.”

Glasses clinked.

“So when are you going to get some furniture in here?” Ben sat on the edge of the crate beside Tess. “You can’t live in a construction zone forever.”

“It’s a matter of priorities. I’m finishing the drywall in the bedroom over the weekend.” Ed sipped as he considered his partner. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Busy,” Ben said immediately. “I’ve got to—ah, clean out the vegetable bin in the fridge. Can’t have Tess slaving over housework in her condition.”

“I’ll remember that.” Tess took another tentative sip of the juice. “Anyway, I’ve got to run into the clinic for a couple of hours tomorrow. I could drop you off.”

Ben gave her a sour look. “Thanks. Ed, don’t you think Tess should cut back, take some time off? Put her feet up?”

“Actually …” Ed leaned back comfortably against a sawhorse. “An active mind and body make for healthier mother and baby. Studies initiated by obstetricians over the last ten years indicate that—”

“Shit,” Ben interrupted. “Ask a simple question. What about you, Grace? As a woman, don’t you believe an expectant mother should pamper herself?”

Unmindful of sawdust, Grace lowered herself to the floor, Indian style. “It depends.”

“On?”

“On whether she’d die of boredom. I would. Now, if
she were considering the Boston Marathon, it might require discussion. Are you thinking of that, Tess?”

“I was thinking of starting with something local first.”

“Sensible,” Grace decided. “This is a sensible woman. You, on the other hand,” she said to Ben, “are typical.”

“Typical what?”

“A typical male. And that makes you, under the circumstances, an overprotective worrywart. Which is okay. It’s cute. And I’m sure that Tess, being a woman, and one with psychiatric training, will be able to satisfactorily exploit that over the next seven months, one week, and three days.” Lifting the bottle of wine, she tipped more into Ben’s glass.

“Thanks. I think.”

Grace smiled at him over the rim of her own glass. “I like you, Detective Paris.”

He grinned and, leaning over, touched his glass to hers. “I like you too, Gracie.” He glanced up when Ed’s phone rang. “While you’re answering that, see if you’ve got anything to eat in the kitchen that isn’t green.”

“Amen,” Grace murmured into her glass. After glancing over her shoulder, Grace spoke again. “You won’t believe what I ate over here the other night. Artichoke bottoms.”

“Please.” Ben shuddered. “Not while I’m breathing.”

“Actually, they weren’t nearly as bad as I thought they’d be. Has he always been this way? Eating roots and things?”

“That man hasn’t had a hamburger in years. It’s scary.”

“But sweet,” Grace added and smiled into her glass in a way that had Tess speculating.

“Sorry,” Ed began as he walked back in. “We’ve got a call.”

“Christ, can’t a man even celebrate childbirth?” But Ben automatically set his drink aside.

“It’s in Montgomery County.”

“Over the line? What do they want us for?”

Ed glanced at Grace. “Attempted rape. Looks like our man.”

“Oh God.” Grace jolted to her feet so that wine sloshed over her hand.

Tess rose with her husband. “Ed—the victim?”

“Shaken, but okay. Got her hands on a butcher knife. Between that and the family dog, she held him off.”

“Let me have the address. I’ll drop Tess off and meet you there.”

“I’m going with you.” Before Ben could object, Tess laid a hand on his arm. “I can help, not only you, but the victim. I know how to handle this, and it’s almost certain she’ll be more comfortable talking to a woman.”

“Tess is right.” Ed walked to the closet off the hall to get his gun. It was the first time Grace had seen him with it. She tried to equate the man who so easily strapped it on with the one who’d carried her through the rain. “This is the first woman we know of that he’s made contact with who’s still alive. Tess might make it easier for her to talk.” He pulled a jacket over his shoulder holster. Grace’s long, speculative look at him, and at his weapon, hadn’t gone unnoticed. “I’m sorry, Grace, I don’t have any idea how long we’ll be.”

“I want to go. I want to talk to her.”

“It’s not possible. It’s not,” he repeated, taking her shoulders as she started to move past him. “It won’t help you, and it would only make it harder on her. Grace …” She had a stubborn chin. Ed cupped a hand under it until her gaze met his. “She’s been badly frightened. Think about it. She doesn’t need more people around, especially one who would remind her of what might have happened. Even if I bent the rules, going there wouldn’t help.”