The Perfect Couple (12 page)

Tiffany was sitting at the kitchen table in a bathrobe and slippers when Colin strode in. Every line of her body drooped, but he didn't care.

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He'd finally gotten his attractive neighbor to notice him, had spent hours alone with her and was in a great mood.

"Where were you?" she asked.

He could hear the distress in her voice. She was so afraid of losing him--and no amount of reassurance made any difference. The belief that she wasn't worthy of his love, of anybody's love, came from someplace so deep she'd never overcome it. She had Nancy, her lousy mother, to thank for that.

And the brother who'd shot Nancy. By getting himself locked up, Seth had reinforced Tiffany's fear of abandonment.

Colin supposed the way he treated her didn't help. But she was lucky to be with him. He could've had someone much more confident--although the effort involved in keeping a woman who was his equal wasn't worth it to him.

"I've been out." He dropped the box of flyers on the counter with a solid thud. "Where's breakfast?"

"I didn't make any. I didn't know when you'd be back."

He propped his hands on his hips and scowled at her sleep-tousled appearance. "Are you trying to convince me you're ugly?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "No."

"Then why haven't you showered?"

It was rare that he saw her out of bed with her hair mussed and her face devoid of makeup. He'd let her know from the very beginning that he expected her to be her most attractive at all times. That meant she had to shower twice a day--once in the morning and once after visiting the gym before he arrived home each evening. Maybe other men could tolerate their women walking around looking like hags, but he wanted Tiffany to be the bombshell he'd created.

"It's only 6:00 a.m.," she said, growing sullen.

"So? You're wasting time. Go!"

She got up, only to hesitate at the entrance to the dining room. "Why won't you tell me where you've been?"

He got a box of cold cereal from the cupboard and poured himself a bowl. "Why do you think? Because I was with another woman." She gasped, but he couldn't resist torturing her a little longer by conjuring up a lascivious smile as he opened the fridge. "And it was awesome."

Her chin quivered. "Is--is it the receptionist at your office?" she whispered, scarcely able to say the words.

"Misty?" Tiffany was so gullible. He chuckled to himself. "That fat bitch? Give me some credit, please."

"Then who?" She began to pant--obviously hyperventilating. If he let 77

the joke go on, she'd probably pass out and hit her head.

"Stop it, Tiff," he said. "I'm joking, okay? You know you're the only one for me. I was with Zoe! The woman next door?"

She hiccuped as she fought to rein in her emotions.

"We were making flyers." He thumped the box he'd brought in.

"Didn't you see this? Didn't you wonder what it was?"

"I don't understand." Her eyes, still glazed with hurt, searched his face.

He set his cereal and a gallon of milk on the table, then put his arms around her. "Calm down, okay? I'm here. I'm never gonna leave you. We were at Kinko's making flyers with Sam's picture on them. Isn't that hilarious?"

Tiffany managed a weak laugh. "Oh!"

"Good thing I love you. Because your insecurities drive me nuts.

Jeez!" He patted her bottom. "Go get showered before I change my mind about hanging on to you."

"Okay," she said, but didn't move.

"What is it now?" he snapped.

"How did you hook up with Zoe? You were in bed with me when I fell asleep."

"I got up to check on Samantha and went out for a smoke. Zoe was in her front yard."

"So you offered to help her?"

He allowed himself a self-indulgent smile. "Brilliant, huh?"

She touched the box of flyers. "Why'd you bring them home?"

"I only brought some home, stupid. I told her we'd distribute them."

She blinked uncertainly. "And...will we?"

He poured the milk. "You bet. Why not? What could be more convincing than two sympathetic neighbors doing all they can to help?"

Tiffany smiled, but he knew it wasn't because she liked the idea. She wasn't the type to enjoy deception, even deception as masterful as this. She was relieved to learn she'd been worried for nothing. That was all. "You're so clever."

"Damn straight."

"Colin?"

He'd already taken his first bite. "Hmm?"

"It's been a while since..." She unfastened her robe and let it fall open.

"Aren't you starting to miss me?"

Finding her seductive expression lacking after the time he'd spent with Zoe, he scowled. "I'm eating. Can't you see that?"

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She ducked her head as if he'd slapped her. "But...you've never gone a whole day, let alone two."

She was feeling neglected. "I'm saving up," he said.

"For what?"

"I've got the boys coming over Friday night."

"You're going to--to prostitute me to your friends?" she asked, belting her robe.

"It's just sex, Tiff. It doesn't mean anything. I want to show you off.

Because I'm so proud of you."

"But I don't have any desire to--to be with them."

"I'm not talking about an affair. I'm talking about a gang-bang party.

You'll be so high you won't even care."

She didn't respond.

"Come on, don't be a downer. I've already promised the guys a treat."

A pitiful expression claimed her face. "Do I have to do it, Colin?"

With a curse, he knocked the cereal box off the counter, flinging Wheaties all over the floor. "Why are you doing this? Why do you have to ruin it for me?"

She'd covered her head at the outburst. "I only want to make love with you," she said as she peeked out from between her arms.

"If you won't show my friends a good time, you'll never be with me again," he said. "Now clean up this mess. I gotta shower or I'll be late for work."

"I brought you something."

Samantha huddled in the corner, watching as Tiffany came into the room, locked the door behind her and slowly advanced. She was holding a tattered blue blanket, the kind someone would throw away or allow a dog to maul and chew. But even an old rag appealed to Sam. She had no idea what the weather was like outside. There was no way to tell without windows. But she was freezing. Tiffany had left her in the urine-stained bikini bottoms, probably as punishment for wetting herself. She'd asked for clothes, but they hadn't provided anything else for her to wear.

"What day is it?" She was beginning to lose track of time. She spent almost every minute curled up, trying to deal with the cold, her constant hunger and the terrible fear that Anton had already convinced her mother they were better off without her.

"It's Wednesday. Colin just went to work."

Sam hated Colin. She didn't want to hear about him. But it was good to know he was gone. Last night had been so freaky.

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"Aren't you excited?" Tiffany frowned, obviously disappointed by Sam's response. "Colin told me I could reward you with this if you'll recite the rules to me."

Reward her? More pet stuff. If Tiffany was crazy, Colin was even crazier.

Sam hugged her knees to her chest, for warmth as much as cover.

"Why aren't you at work?"

"Colin thought I should give my lip another day to heal," Tiffany explained with a shrug. "It's practically healed, don't you think?"

"I think you should leave him."

The smile disappeared from Tiffany's face. "Don't say that. He's my husband."

"I don't care. He's not nice to you. He's not nice to anyone."

"You don't know what you're talking about. He loves me--he'd walk through fire for me."

Samantha jutted out her chin. "What about your lip?"

"We bumped heads, that's all."

"He told me he'd smash my face like he did yours if I didn't quit crying."

Tiffany arranged an errant curl. Her hair was nearly perfect. She had makeup on, too. "You're a smartass, you know that? Here I am, being good to you, and look how you're acting." She tossed the blanket toward the door.

"Colin would never allow me to give this to you now."

Instantly regretting her behavior, Sam tightened the grip she had on her legs. "Wait, I know the rules." She hated to cave in so quickly. Maybe she wouldn't have if she'd been fully dressed. But she longed to cover herself almost more than she longed for human food.

Tiffany tilted her head in consideration. "Are you asking me for another chance?"

Samantha remembered how hard it was to get underneath the bulky mattress. What would happen when she got well and Colin was no longer afraid to touch her? "Yes."

Tiffany's eyebrows rose in challenge. "Yes, Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress," she repeated, but inside she was chanting, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

"Fine." Tiffany was smiling again. "Tell them to me."

Samantha hadn't eaten any of the pellets Tiffany had poured into the bowl by the door, but she felt like throwing up anyway. "I'm to address him as Master and you as Mistress."

Tiffany laughed. "I guess I gave that one away. What else?"

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Sam stared at the litter box in the corner. "I'm to use that--" she pointed "--for a toilet and clean it myself every other day."

"And?"

"If I behave, I'll be rewarded."

"With what?"

"Regular food. Treats. Better clothes. A chance to see the sun."

Wrinkling her nose, Tiffany used the toe of her shoe to push the kitty-litter box farther into the corner. "Did he say that? About the sun?"

"He said I'd get to do chores." But to work she'd have to leave this room, and the other rooms had windows. That was what she focused on--the chance to see the world outside: her street, her house, her mother.

"And if you try to escape?"

"He'll kill me," Samantha replied. "If I make any noise, he'll kill me. If I don't do exactly what he says, he'll kill me. If I don't do what you say, he'll kill me."

"Perfect." With a sigh, Tiffany dragged the blanket over to Samantha, and Samantha scrambled to cover herself with it.

Tiffany studied the food in the dog dish. "You're not eating."

Samantha glared up at her. "Would you?"

"You have to eat. At least some of it."

The feel of the blanket brought such relief Sam wanted to cry, even though she'd already cried so much she didn't see how there could be any more tears inside her.

"Samantha? I'm talking to you. Do you want me to take that blanket away?"

No! She'd do anything to keep the blanket, anything to stop the cold and provide a barrier against the fear. "N-no, Mistress."

She was trembling all of a sudden, and she had no idea why.

"Look at you," Tiffany said, as if the sight sickened her. "You're going to wet yourself again if you don't settle down."

Fresh tears dripped from Sam's chin. "I c-can't st-stop."

A hint of kindness entered Tiffany's eyes. "I'll tell you what. If you eat some kibble, just to make yourself start getting used to it, I'll bring you a sandwich later."

Was this a trick? Samantha thought it might be but changed her mind when Tiffany spoke again. "If you ever tell Colin I gave you anything but that dog food, you'll never get another morsel out of me, do you understand?"

Hope flared in Samantha's chest and the shaking began to subside.

Was it possible that Tiffany might become a friend in this hellish place? "I 81

w-won't tell him," she said. "I swear."

"Okay, then. Make me one more promise."

"What's that?"

Drawing close, Tiffany lowered her voice. "You won't resist Colin no matter what he does."

Samantha twisted her fingers into the torn blanket. "Why not?"

Tiffany's stare drilled into her. "He'll kill you," she said without blinking. "He wasn't lying about that."

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Jonathan woke with a start. He hadn't realized he'd nodded off.

Blinking, he scraped a hand over his stubble-covered chin and checked his watch. It was after nine, and he was still at the kitchen table with his laptop, where he'd been sitting since he'd walked Kino late last night.

"Shit," he muttered through his fingers.

Kino, who'd been napping at Jonathan's feet, whined in response and got up, eager for another walk, but Ronnie would have to take him. Jonathan had to find something that might lead him to Zoe Duncan's father. And he had to do it fast. Time was slipping away....

He'd already spent hours searching various databases, including LexisNexis, for information on Ely Duncan. But everything that came up was so dated he didn't believe it'd be relevant.

He decided to switch to the phone, to develop a chain of people to follow--someone who'd heard some gossip and was willing to share it or who could point him in the direction of a friend or relative who might tell him more.

Using a crisscross directory, he got the telephone numbers of Ely's neighbors, but the ones he was able to reach wouldn't talk to him. They didn't trust him, even though he told them he was working for Ely's daughter.

He figured he could continue to call, but he didn't feel optimistic.

These weren't the kind of people who'd be forthcoming with details about anyone, and it probably didn't help that the police had already come by. He suspected that Ely's neighbors had spent a good portion of their lives avoiding school counselors and teachers, then cops and probation officers, possibly even bounty hunters.

He would've thought Ely himself had jumped bail. That would certainly explain why his neighbors were so tight-lipped. But Jonathan had checked for an open court case and hadn't found one.

Yawning, he leaned back in his chair and dialed Zoe's cell phone.

She answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

He winced at the eagerness in her voice, knew what she was hoping to hear. "It's me. Jonathan."

"Do you have anything?"

Nothing on Ely, but in the wee hours of the morning, he'd gone to the 83

trouble of searching for a few details on Franky Bates. He had Franky's mother's address in San Diego. Chances were always good a mother could locate her son. He also had proof that Franky had applied for a job at a restaurant in the same city--a job he hadn't got--and even tried to get a credit card at the local Macy's. "I'm afraid not."