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"That won't change, will it?" Jeremy's gaze finally lifted from his sneakers.
David pulled to the side of the road and twisted in his seat to look back at him. Now he wanted to make a dramatic impact. "No matter what."
Skye was more frightened tonight than ever before, and for once it had nothing to do with preserving life and limb. She was pretty sure someone other than Burke had sent Lorenzo, someone who was very much aware of her and where she lived, but she had difficulty believing it was Noah.
In any case, she was too absorbed to work on the puzzle tonight. The list of possibilities seemed far too long, the clues too few. At this moment she was facing what felt like a bigger threat. After spending four years obsessed with improving the security of her home, using a P.O. box instead of her street address, lifting weights and exercising like a fiend, learning to shoot until she could hit a can at fifty yards, she'd become good at recognizing danger and working from a defensive position. But the one thing she hadn't relearned since Burke was how to do the opposite--trust, open up, let herself love and be loved. Wanting a relationship with David was like recognizing a potential threat and going in unarmed anyway, which went contrary to every self-protective instinct she possessed.
But if she didn't take a chance on what she was feeling, she might miss the one really great thing to happen to her in a long time.
She just wished it wasn't so hard, that the situation wasn't so complicated. David had told her that Lynnette had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Considering her health, he felt guilty about moving on, and she felt guilty being part of the reason. No wonder Lynnette was so desperate to keep him. And then there was the baby. What if David found out about the pregnancy too soon? They wouldn't have an opportunity to explore whether or not they had a relationship independent of that.
She had about four months before she began to show. Would it be enough?
For the first time in a long while, she wanted to talk to Jennifer or Brenna. Since telling Jennifer about Burke's release, she'd given them both a couple of obligatory follow-up calls. She'd also spoken briefly with Joe. But she'd been careful to keep things polite and impersonal. Now she wanted to connect, to know how they managed to love despite the fear of losing, which was something she, Sheridan and Jasmine no longer seemed capable of doing. They'd started The Last Stand to help themselves heal by making a difference in the lives of others. But, in a way, it had done just the opposite.
The horrors they dealt with on a daily basis kept their wounds open and 254
bleeding. As passionate as Skye felt about what she was doing, she realized that now. Those pictures on the wall in her office were a reminder of the chasm between her and her lost innocence.
Was it time to forget? To lay down her weapons and just live?
David had issues; she had issues; Lynnette had issues. Maybe they'd be able to work them out, maybe they wouldn't. But she wanted to try. She loved David enough to try.
She hoped he felt the same.
Picking up the phone, she dialed Jennifer's number although it was after midnight.
"Hello?" Surprisingly, her sister answered on the first ring, sounding wide-awake.
"It's me."
"Are you okay?" Immediate panic and concern.
"I'm fine. Relax."
Jennifer took an audible breath. "Did you find out who sent that Lorenzo guy?"
"No. But I didn't call to talk about that."
There was a brief silence. "What's up, then?"
Skye smiled and touched her stomach, wondering what it would feel like as the pregnancy progressed. "I think I'm in love."
"With the detective you told me about?"
"Yeah."
"That's good, isn't it?"
"Except that I'm more scared of this than anything else."
Jennifer laughed softly. "You two are getting closer?"
"He brought his son over tonight, Jen. It's the first time he's ever let me spend an evening with Jeremy, and it was..."
"What?"
She smiled to herself. "Wonderful."
"So you like this boy?"
Skye closed her eyes as she remembered the grin on Jeremy's face when she lit the candles on his cake. "I do. He's darling."
"Do you think you could love him?"
"I'm sure I could."
"So what's the problem?"
"What if I let go and fall headlong into this and.. .and it doesn't work out?" What if the guilt took over, and he went back to Lynnette?
"You'll get hurt, like the rest of us when we're rejected. Then you'll pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move on. Heartbreak is part of life, 255
Skye. Protect yourself against that, and you're not really living."
She'd known that all along, of course. She'd told herself the same thing before she'd called Jennifer. But she'd needed to hear someone else confirm it. "So I shouldn't call him up and tell him I don't want to see him anymore?"
"No!" Laughter filled her stepsister's voice. "You should get some sleep and see what tomorrow brings."
"Right. Sleep," Skye repeated, and for the first night since Burke, she didn't check her doors and windows repeatedly before climbing into bed.
It was time to live like a normal person, even if that meant trusting something as changeable and fickle as love.
The ringing of the phone sounded ominous even in her sleep.
Reluctant to stir, Skye tried to block it out--until she realized it might be Sheridan or Jasmine. If one of them was calling this late, it'd be important.
Rolling over, she nearly knocked the phone off the nightstand in her half-awake attempt to answer. "Hello?"
"Skye, it's David."
She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to shake off her lethargy. "Is anything wrong?"
"Nothing for you to worry about. It's just work. I got a call. Someone stumbled across a body in an empty lot, and I gotta get over there. Any chance you could spend the rest of the night here so someone will be with Jeremy?" His voice fell, and his next words revealed a certain amount of embarrassment. "I'm sorry to ask you this, but I can't reach Lynnette. I don't know if she's still out drinking, or if she went home with someone or--"
"No problem. I'll throw on some clothes and leave right away."
"So you're naked?" he said.
She laughed at how easily he'd been distracted. "Not quite."
"It's still a great mental picture."
"See you when I get there," she said, smiling.
The next time Skye awakened, it was to the sound of cartoons in David's living room. Was David back? She wasn't sure, but Jeremy was most definitely awake.
Covering a yawn, she sat up and took a moment to orient herself.
Then she got up, ran a comb through her hair and brushed her teeth before she went out to explain why she'd once again been sleeping in David's bed.
She didn't want to startle Jeremy when he came searching for his father.
But Jeremy didn't seem surprised to see her. "Did I wake you up?" he asked, slightly chagrinned.
"No," she lied, deciding it was pointless to make him feel bad just for 256
turning on the TV.
"Good. My dad said I wasn't supposed to wake you up."
She perched on the arm of the couch. "You've talked to him already this morning?"
"Yeah, he's at work. He said you should call him when you get up."
She couldn't believe she'd missed the ringing of the phone, couldn't remember a time she'd slept so deeply in the past four years. "He must be tired after being up all night."
"Being a policeman isn't easy," Jeremy said, and Skye had to smile at how grown-up he sounded.
Leaving him to his cartoons for a few minutes, she went into the kitchen to call David.
"Hey, how'd you sleep?" he asked, his voice instantly warming.
"Really well." She loved being in his home, smelling a hint of him in the bedsheets. She didn't love lying to him about the pregnancy, but she figured they were going through enough difficult transitions right now.
Opening herself up to love and loss was one thing; committing relationship suicide from the get-go was another. "Where are you?"
"Still at the crime scene."
"What happened last night?"
He didn't answer right away.
"David?"
"Maybe you should sit down."
She gripped the phone a little tighter. "Why would I need to sit down?"
"You know the victim, Skye."
"I do?" She took a deep, shaky breath. "Who is it?"
"Sean Regan."
She slumped into a chair. Poor Sean. She was supposed to make a difference. But not this time... "Are you sure?"
"He was wearing a Medic Alert bracelet," David was saying. "He was a diabetic."
"I didn't know that."
David said nothing, allowing her a moment to grieve.
"Who found him?" she asked.
"A man named John Roberti. The body was in a creek behind a vacant lot at a Quick Shop."
"How was he killed?"
"The corpse was too decomposed to tell. Someone stuffed it into a canister and rolled it into the water. It looked like it had been there a while.
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If this was summer, there wouldn't have been anything left besides bones and..."
He let the sentence dangle, but she knew what he meant. Bones and liquefied flesh.
She pressed a hand over her mouth to control the sudden nausea. This was what had happened to the man she'd met at her office before Christmas.
"Is there any evidence that might lead you to his killer?"
"We'll try to lift prints from the drum, of course. But it's rained too much to get any shoe or tire impressions. The body might tell us more once a pathologist has a chance to look at what's left."
"It was his wife," she said as she had from the beginning. "And maybe his wife's boyfriend."
"We'll get whoever it is, Skye." He'd tried to inject some energy into his voice, making it more reassuring, but Skye doubted he was feeling optimistic. He sounded weary, beleaguered.
"Jonathan Stivers can help. He's put together all kinds of circumstantial evidence against Mrs. Regan."
"That's what Mike Fitzer said. He'll be taking over from here on out.
Once we identified the body, I realized this wouldn't be my case."
"But will Mike work with Jonathan?"
"He will now. He doesn't want an unsolved homicide on his desk.
Besides that, he knows he's got me looking over his shoulder."
"When can you come home?"
"I'm on my way."
A knock at the door made Skye sit up straighten "Someone's here."
"Oh God. Don't tell me Lynnette's there to get Jeremy. I'm coming as soon as I can," he said. But Skye knew it wouldn't be soon enough to avoid a confrontation with his ex-wife. Jeremy had already jumped up to answer the door. Before Skye could hang up, David's ex-wife was standing in the apartment, glaring at her.
"I'm sorry, but David's not here right now," she said, feeling more self-conscious than ever before in her life. She knew what MS could do; she had a good friend who'd ended up in a wheelchair in less than ten years.
Lynnette's eyes narrowed as they combed over her spaghetti-strap Tshirt and pajama bottoms. "Who do you think you are?"
It was one of those rhetorical questions designed to start an argument.
Or maybe a fight.
Raising a placating hand, Skye stepped back. "Listen, this isn't the time or the place. I'm only here to babysit."
"Are you telling me you're not sleeping with my husband?"
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"He's your ex-husband." Skye glanced meaningfully at Jeremy.
"Anyway, your son is here."
"That's right. He's my son. And I don't want you having anything to do with him."
"He doesn't need any added grief," she said quietly. But Lynnette didn't seem to have the emotional wherewithal to care about that. Judging by the stilettos, miniskirt and low-cut blouse, she'd had a long night and hadn't been home yet.
"You're the whore who's causing him grief." She frowned at Jeremy, who was watching them both with wide eyes. "Get your stuff. We're leaving."
Obviously embarrassed by his mother's rude behavior, Jeremy collected his overnight bag, then bent his head as he shuffled past Skye. He was almost out the door when he turned back. "Don't feel bad, Skye," he said under his breath. "My mother doesn't hate you. Or she wouldn't have taken your picture."
Although he'd spoken low and fast, Lynnette had obviously heard him. "I've never taken any pictures of you. He doesn't know what he's talking about," she said, but the furtive look that entered her eyes chilled Skye to the bone.
"I'm not lying." Goaded into a louder response now that his mother had called his truthfulness into question, Jeremy spoke clearly. "You had her picture on your phone--"
"Shut up!"
"And you gave it to that man with the big holes in his ears, remember?
There was a picture of Skye in a car and coming out of--"
Grabbing his hand, Lynnette jerked so hard he gaped at her in surprise.
Skye was tempted to pull Jeremy back into the apartment and close the door. She hesitated to let this woman take him, even if she was his mother. But she didn't want to put Jeremy in the difficult position of being torn between them. "Lorenzo Bishop," she muttered.
"I don't know anyone by that name," Lynnette said and hurried away, dragging Jeremy behind her.
Lynnette's car wasn't in the parking lot when David arrived. But he took the stairs two at a time anyway, hoping the transfer of his son from one woman to the other had gone smoothly.
He found Skye alone, sitting at the kitchen table, staring off into space.
"What is it?" he asked, concerned by the dazed expression on her face.
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She raised her eyes. "It was your ex-wife who sent Lorenzo Bishop."
She sounded incredulous, so incredulous he didn't know whether to take her seriously.
"You're kidding, right?" He knew Lynnette could be difficult, that she hadn't been herself lately. Ricocheting between hate and clinginess, bitterness and neediness, she'd been extra-hard to tolerate. But there was no way she'd try to have someone killed. Maybe he dealt with that kind of stuff at work, but it always happened to other people.