They waited until she was gone again, then his mother dried her cheeks and pulled him into an embrace. "I'm sorry, Oliver. You've been through too much. This isn't fair. And.. .and I never would've expected it from Noah, I'll tell you that."
"Me, neither," he said. "I guess he wasn't the person we thought he was."
This statement caused more tears, but his mother didn't contradict him. "Does Wendy know?"
"She's got to be wondering. We got together last night, then he had me drop him off at Starbucks. He said he needed some time alone, but I doubt he ever went home because I think he called Jane from there. The last Wendy probably heard was when he left with me about an hour after we found Kate gone."
"Poor Wendy."
"And I haven't told Kate, of course. Maybe I should've, but...I thought I'd wait in case...in case Jane comes back to me." He pretended to choke up again, which elicited another fierce, sympathetic hug from his mother.
"They both know better than this! It's not like Noah to.. .to break our hearts."
It was difficult not to grimace at her words. Noah was no saint. What he'd done with Jane proved that. As surreal as the morning had been, Oliver was thinking clearly again. He knew he had to play it smart, do a better job from here on out or he'd be spending the rest of his life in the prison he'd just left, or one like it. "I trusted Jane, too." Sniffing, he blinked rapidly, as if fighting tears. "It's a shock."
"Of course it is."
"What's a shock?" His father had just come out of the bathroom, 279
where he spent at least fifteen minutes every time he went in.
"I'll tell you later," his mother said, visibly struggling to bear up under the news.
"I appreciate you two taking Kate," Oliver said. "My injury's really giving me trouble this morning. I think I've been doing too much. And last night was pretty brutal."
"Of course it was." His mother cupped his cheek. "You go home and get into bed until you feel better. Kate can spend the next few days with us.
We love the little thing. And she enjoys being here. We'll take care of her."
His father stood watching the exchange, waiting to hear what was going on. The expression on his face said he knew it wasn't good.
"I'll call tomorrow and check in."
"Don't worry about anything here," she said and kissed his cheek.
"What is it?" Oliver heard his father ask, but Oliver was already walking to his car and didn't look back as his mother began to explain. He had to hurry. He'd driven by The Last Stand on the way to his parents' house, had spotted the cars in the lot. Fortunately, Skye was at work, as usual. But he didn't know how long she'd be there, and he had a lot to do.
"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."
280
"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 281
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 282
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....
"I was afraid to take the test. But then I decided I had to know."
He listened harder, wondering what she was talking about.
"I almost fainted when it turned out positive, Sher.... Sometime in October. I haven't been to a doctor, but I know when I got pregnant...."
Pregnant. The word seemed to ring through the whole house, along with the pleasure in her voice.
Evidently, Skye had been busy. She'd been sleeping with someone.
And, after that picture in the paper, Oliver could guess the father of her child. But he didn't have to guess. The next instant, she was talking about David, how he'd responded when she'd told him, how excited she was to think they might have a future together.
How wrong she was about that....
Oliver envisioned the power he'd soon wield against her hopes and dreams. He'd destroy them all, destroy her. She'd be helpless, forced to look to him for every breath. How long had he waited for this? Four years. Ever since she'd denied him the first time. Only it would be better than he'd imagined. He'd be taking what belonged to Detective Willis. And he'd leave the man with nothing.
If she suffered enough, maybe he could cross Willis off his list, too. It would be worse for a man like Willis to live with his failure, to know that he'd lost the woman he loved and his baby.
Oliver's grip tightened eagerly on the knife. His revenge couldn't have worked out more perfectly.
"Jeremy's so cute. I feel bad about what he'll have to go through because of his mother," Skye was saying.
Oliver didn't know what that meant. He didn't care. When the hall light went on, he tried to see her through the crack of the door and caught a glimpse of her taking off her coat. She was so beautiful. Far more beautiful than Jane had ever been.
But Skye wouldn't be beautiful for long. This time he'd leave more 283
than a few scars.
Skye smiled as she hung up. On her way home, she'd told Jasmine and Sheridan about the baby. They'd talked about the shower they wanted to throw and what she and David might name their child.
There was so much to think about, so much to prepare for. And it was all exhilarating! Oliver Burke hadn't ruined her life. She'd recovered, even from what he'd done. And she'd continue to recover as she and David got married and she became a mother.
She started toward her bedroom, planning to grab her robe and take a long bath. But then she realized she hadn't gone through the stack of mail she'd picked up from her post office box in town. She'd been too involved in her various conversations, with David, who kept calling to check on her, with her sisters and friends, telling them about the baby.
Going back to the kitchen counter, she quickly riffled through the mail. Most of it was junk. But there were a couple of letters from past clients, which made her feel even better. One was from a woman who'd left an abusive situation and had since remarried. She was happy now. The other was from the victim of a hit-and-run. Jonathan had managed to track down the driver and that driver was being prosecuted.
But then she came to a letter that had no return address. Surprised and more than a little curious, she slid out a piece of copy paper on which she found only one computer-generated sentence.
Today I sold your address to a man who insisted on remaining anonymous.
Was this connected to Bishop? Had Lynnette gotten the address of the delta house from someone other than David? It was possible. Skye nearly tossed the paper in the waste-basket--until she noticed the date. This note had been written only yesterday, well after Bishop was dead.
Feeling a chill prickle up her spine, she turned slowly, suddenly afraid she'd missed something important. The front door had been locked; the house looked and smelled the same. But she wasn't about to stay here by herself if there was even a remote possibility that Oliver Burke had her address. Obviously, someone was searching for it. Even if it wasn't him, she probably wasn't safe.
Pulling her keys and her gun from her purse, she started for the front door. She'd go to Sheridan's or Skye's until David could get back. But her fingers were shaking so badly she had trouble removing the chain. By the time she'd also unbolted the door, she heard the tread in the hall. Someone was in her house.
Oliver wasn't sure what had tipped Skye off and sent her running, but 284
he wasn't about to let her get out and reach her car. He'd waited too long for this.
He pounded down the hall--and caught her just as she was opening the door. As she pulled it toward her, she had one hand on the edge. And that was where she made her mistake. Although she tried to draw back at the last second, it was too late. Flinging himself against the door, Oliver forced it closed, catching her hand in the process.
When she cried out, he knew he'd regained the advantage he'd lost when she tried to flee. She wasn't going to shoot him like she shot Bishop.
Not when she couldn't even use her hand.
Just to be sure, he slammed his shoulder against the door again, and felt her fall to her knees. Then he yanked open the door to release her and slammed it shut again with his foot as he pushed her to the floor.