They'd already established that Malcolm frequented the casino, but Jane wanted to see him in action. "Can we view those images?"
"He burned us a DVD of the segments that contain Malcolm."
"Great! I'll head over there right away."
"I already got it for you." He took it from his coat pocket and held it up for her to see.
"How nice!" she said.
"I figured you were pretty busy, what with your guest and all."
She narrowed her eyes. "How'd you know I have a guest?"
"After I got the message, I tried to call you and Kate answered. She said you were in the Quick Stop, picking up a snack for her lunch."
"I'm assuming that wasn't all she said."
He grinned. "No. She was pretty excited to report that you'd had a man stay 234
the night. She seemed quite taken with him."
They must've been on their way to school. "She didn't tell me you called,"
Jane said.
"I told her not to worry about it, that I'd contact you later. Then I went to get the DVD myself."
Jane wondered how long it would be before Kate mentioned Sebastian to the Burkes--or Wendy. "Have you seen it?"
"Not yet. I just got back and now I have to run off again."
"I appreciate the help." She tried to take the DVD, but he held it out of reach.
"Jane, I hope you know what you're doing with this Sebastian guy. I really don't want to see you get hurt." He looked--and sounded--more serious than he usually did.
Grabbing his arm, she finally got her hands on the DVD, which she promptly put in her purse. "I won't get hurt," she said, scoffing as if it was ridiculous to worry. But she knew there were no guarantees. Especially now.
Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, she was falling in love with Sebastian.
And love had never been kind to her before.
235
Twenty-Two
T
here it was.
Malcolm drove past The Last Stand twice before turning in. It was only six o'clock in the evening, but dark came early in January, and he wasn't really worried that he'd be recognized--at least, not at first glance. He'd stopped by a secondhand store on the way and bought a wig, a pair of glasses and some women's clothing.
Although he'd never used a disguise before, the image staring back at him whenever he looked in the rearview mirror seemed pretty damn convincing, certainly convincing enough to let him move around unnoticed, especially after dark. If he'd been a bigger man, it might not have worked so well, but this was one time when being only five foot nine was an advantage.
The reception area appeared to be closed for the night, but there was a light in one of the back offices. Did that mean someone was working late? Jane Burke, perhaps?
The possibility sent a tremor of excitement through him.
A single car sat in the lot, parked behind the building, by the rear exit.
The Chinese restaurant and the liquor store at the far end of the adjacent strip mall had moderate traffic. Malcolm drove around to the front and parked his van there so it wouldn't stand out. Then he waited for a man who'd just exited the liquor store to drive off--he saw no reason to invite scrutiny of his costume up close--and climbed out.
An obscure-sounding church and a few thousand square feet of empty retail space were sandwiched between the liquor store and The Last Stand. Wearing size ten high heels, which clicked confidently against the pavement as he walked, Malcolm passed them, along with a dry cleaner, as if he had a legitimate reason to be there. Then he ducked into the narrow alley between the end of the mall and the building that housed the charity and took off his shoes. How women maneuvered in such uncomfortable footwear, he had no idea.
Shoving a heel in each pocket of the heavy wool coat he'd bought to go over his dress, he hugged the cinder block wall as he slipped on his tennis shoes and moved around to the back. Once there, he stood in the shadow of the building, 236
waiting to see if he could catch a glimpse of the occupant.
Movement in the hallway outside the office with the light on caught his attention. Someone was standing there, using a copier. Malcolm could see the distinctive glow each time the machine lid was lifted. But it wasn't a woman. This person was far too tall.
Disappointed, Malcolm cursed under his breath. He'd been entertaining visions of leaving Jane Burke bleeding on her desk. If he couldn't get to Mary, he'd take someone who meant even more to Sebastian. He liked the ruthlessness of giving the bastard an immediate and vicious response to his e-mail.
But he hadn't really expected it to be that easy. He had to do his homework, make plans. This was more of a reconnaissance mission than anything else. He'd known that from the beginning.
Carrying a stack of copies, the man went back into an office, and Malcolm took out his gun before creeping closer. The door was unlocked. He could tell without even touching it. The guy inside probably saw no reason for heightened security, not this early at night and not if he was only stopping by to make a few copies.
Would he come back into the hall right away?
No, Malcolm didn't think so. From the muted sounds drifting toward him, he could tell that the man was now on the phone.
With one gloved hand, Malcolm pulled the swinging door open far enough to squeeze inside. Maybe he wouldn't meet Jane in the next few minutes. But he'd meet her soon. Especially if he could learn a little more about her. Starting with her address...
"So he looks like his picture?" The voice of the man in the office came to him more clearly, since they were both in the building.
"He's put on some weight, but you can definitely tell it's him."
The second voice surprised Malcolm. Maybe this person wasn't alone, after all.
Leaning slightly to the right so he could see into the room, he found the guy he'd watched in the hall standing behind a desk, collating copies. The second voice was coming from a speakerphone.
"When was he last there?" The punch of a stapler punctuated this question.
"Just after Christmas."
He plopped the document on a stack of others and stapled the next one. "Did 237
he win anything that night?"
"No. From what I can tell he generally loses."
Afraid of giving his presence away, Malcolm stepped into the room closest to the office and pressed his back against the wall.
"Stands to reason," the man said. "A good gambler wouldn't have to kill his wife."
Were they talking about
him?
Was that Jane on the phone--or someone else?
"Sebastian says he isn't good at anything. That's why being a cop meant so much to him. He used the uniform to create some self-respect and to cover up his shortcomings."
Malcolm's hand tightened on his gun. Sebastian would say that. He'd always felt so damn superior.
"Sebastian told you that, huh?" the man said. "So he's still staying with you?"
"Jonathan, cut it out. I don't want to get into that."
He chuckled. "It's a simple question, Jane."
"He doesn't want to leave me here alone. He's afraid Malcolm will come back and somehow find out which condo is mine."
"Then I'm glad he's staying. Don't take any chances." The stapler sounds had stopped. "I'm finished here. I'll check in with you later."
"Thanks again for picking up that DVD from Cache Creek. It helps us get a feel for the kind of monster we're dealing with."
Monster?
She had no idea. But she'd soon learn, Malcolm thought.
"It was nice of that security guard to provide it," the man said.
"I just hope they call us if he comes back."
"Did they say they would?"
"Sebastian hired another guy, one who's working security at night, to keep a lookout."
"Then let's hope that particular guard's there when Malcolm or Wesley or whoever the hell he is shows up."
"It's Malcolm Turner. Sebastian's right. He didn't die in that burning car."
"I'll take your word for it. Talk to you tomorrow," he said and that was the end of the call.
Anger simmered in Malcolm's chest as he stood in the empty office next door. He wasn't good at anything? He'd known Sebastian felt that way all along.
238
Sebastian had always considered himself better than everyone else, had always done what he could to make Malcolm look bad, especially to Emily and Colton.
But Sebastian wasn't as smart as he thought. Maybe he'd paid the security personnel at Cache Creek to rat him out. But Sebastian would be dead long before Malcolm ever went back to that casino.
All Malcolm had to do was find out which condo belonged to Jane Burke, and she'd be dead, too.
The man Jane had called Jonathan turned off the light and passed right by on his way out. Malcolm heard him lock the door behind him, but he didn't mind getting shut in. He could throw the bolt from the inside whenever he was ready to leave.
Meanwhile, he had work to do.
Waiting until Jonathan had driven off, he turned the light back on and poked through the offices until he came across a name placard that read
Jane Burke.
Surely, somewhere, there'd be a Rolodex card, an envelope or a piece of paper with her home address on it.
But he didn't find the information he needed in her office. It was in the storage room. Apparently, she'd brought in several empty boxes from shipments she'd received before Christmas.
Thank God for recycling.
According to the labels, she lived in unit 53.
Jane stood in the middle of her living room, staring at the grainy image on TV. That was Malcolm Turner, the man guilty of murdering his wife and stepson, impersonating a police officer, kidnapping two teenage girls and ultimately stabbing one of them. Who knew what he'd done to Latisha--or what he might do if they didn't get to her in time. Jane had no faith whatsoever in the e-mail Latisha had sent. She wasn't sure what that was about, but she was confident it didn't reflect Malcolm's true plans.
How did Malcolm justify his actions? she wondered. How could he live with himself?
By avoiding responsibility for what he'd done. As long as he could blame others for provoking him, he wouldn't have to accept any of the blame. At least, that was how Oliver had done it.
"You're watching that
again?
"
239
Jane turned to see Sebastian behind her. For the past forty-five minutes, he'd been helping Kate with her homework. Jane had tried to step in--she was always the one who helped, except when Kate was at her grandparents'--but Kate had been far more interested in Sebastian. "I want to know what he's thinking," she explained as Malcolm threw the dice at a craps table.
Sebastian's attention was fixed on Malcolm, too. "You wouldn't understand it, even if you could read his mind," he said. "Looking for sanity and reason in people like Oliver and Malcolm will only drive you crazy. They have a twisted view of the world and of themselves."
"All they can see is how it affects them," she agreed.
"We should know. We've had front-row seats." He grabbed his coat, which he'd tossed on the couch.
She felt her eyebrows go up. "You're leaving?"
"Some of your neighbors weren't home earlier. I'm hoping to catch them this evening."
She'd been more than a little disappointed that they hadn't located a single person who'd heard or seen anything that morning, not even in the units closer to the parking lot. Malcolm had entered the lot and broken Sebastian's window, then dumped a dead body in his backseat. Granted, that wouldn't take a lot of time, but it seemed bizarre that it could go unnoticed in such a public setting, on such a busy street. "Do you want some help?"
"No, you stay with Kate. She might have a few more questions on her math."
"I don't think she had any questions to begin with. Not really. She just wanted your attention."
His grin told her he already understood that. "She's a great kid."
Jane tried not to let the fact that he was so good with Kate influence the way she felt about Sebastian, but Kate's adoration chipped away at her biggest objection to getting involved with him. "I'm proud of her."
As Sebastian left, her cell phone rang. Leaning over so she could retrieve it from the coffee table, she checked caller ID--and immediately recognized the number.
"Hello, Luther," she said.
"You called?"
"Yes. I wanted to make sure you'd heard the latest."
"That Latisha e-mailed Gloria?"
240
"Yes."
"Gloria told me."
"Okay." She'd expected his negative energy to be difficult to tolerate, but it wasn't as bad as she'd thought. Tonight Latisha's father seemed uncharacteristically subdued. "I'll talk to you later, then."
"He drives a van," he suddenly announced.
Jane brought her phone back to her ear. "What did you say?
Who
drives a van?"
"The man who took Latisha and Marcie. I been talkin' to the girls on the street. They tell me Officer Boss drives a white utility van."
"You don't happen to have a license number, do you?"
"Not yet, but everyone I know is keepin' an eye out."
"I appreciate the information. I'll call you if we find anything on this end."
He didn't answer right away. Assuming he wouldn't, she started to hang up again, but the sound of his voice made her hesitate. "Thanks for callin'," he said.
Then he was gone.
Jane pursed her lips as she pressed the end button on her phone.
"What's wrong, Mommy?"
Preoccupied with Luther's phone call, she met her daughter's curious gaze.
"That was a man from the case I'm working on. I thought I disliked him, but..."
"You don't?"
"Not anymore. I guess I never really did. I was just scared of him."
"Does he think you're nice, too?"
"I don't know if I'd go that far," she said with a laugh. "But maybe he's figuring out that I'm not as bad as he thought."
"Is he like Sebastian?" she asked.
No one was like Sebastian. "Not really."
Kate used her chewing gum to blow a bubble that popped in her face. "It's too bad Sebastian doesn't have kids," she said as she pushed her gum back into her mouth.