As the act itself.
The media. What fools! They spilled everything. Absolutely everything.
Now a half dozen psychos would confess to the crime, and the dumb cops wouldn’t know the difference.
At last the newswoman went off the screen, and a white-haired man appeared. Some retired stiff from the FBI. He described the murder as a typical sex crime, and warned women that they should be very careful, think carefully, act carefully. When such a murder occurred, people tended to think that it had to be carried out by a monster, a devil with visible horns.
Sex crimes were usually carried out by men of the same race as their victims, men who were most often in their mid-twenties to late thirties. Younger than that, and they usually hadn’t yet reached a level of such overt savagery. Older than that, and they’d usually trip themselves up somehow.
I’ll drink to that! he mused. Except he wouldn’t do so.
The man on the television went on.
Such killers were often men women trusted on sight.
The average Joe.
Average!
He smiled tautly.
Average, hell!
He lifted his drink.
And drank to himself again, terribly pleased. They’d soon know that there wasn’t anything average about him at all.
He heard a knocking at his door, his name was called, and he smiled. She was here. He did know how to play at being the average Joe.
But only a man way above average could begin to do it half so damned well.
Jan Hunt stood on Brad’s doorstep, looking around as she waited. It was dark. Despite the lights out on the street, it was dark. In the residential area of Coconut Grove, it could be dark as a black hole at night. One of the prime attractions of the area was the tremendous amount of foliage around, and she usually loved it. Trees, vines, bushes, flowers—she’d lived around the general area all her life, didn’t know the names of half of it, but loved it just the same. Except for tonight. Reading about Ellie had really disturbed her. Then, when she’d picked up the signed contract for the new condo for the old geezer, she’d seen nothing but the murder on the news. Unnerved, she’d called home, found that Tina was safely in with the doors locked and the alarm armed, and she’d headed for Brad’s.
Dumb move. They had an agreement. They always called one another. She hadn’t called him tonight. He might be with someone. And here she was, goose bumps rising on her flesh because she was afraid to be standing here, in the dark. There was a breeze, and every time it ruffled a leaf, she felt certain that a homicidal maniac was crawling around her, watching her, waiting to pounce, already beginning to hunger for a taste of blood…
The door opened.
“Jan!”
“Hey!” she said nervously.
Brad was dressed—that was good, she reasoned. He hadn’t just come popping out of bed. He was casual, in jeans and T-shirt, barefoot, blond hair neatly combed, looking good.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure.” He backed away from the door, and she stepped in.
His place was nicely, simply decorated. It was a contemporary house, no more than fifteen years old, and he had some modern art on the walls, with most of his furniture being leather, chrome, and glass. The floors were cool tile, the kitchen was state-of-the-art—sporting far more utensils than Brad would ever use, but they were there if needed. His bedroom was huge, complete with a big bath that held a whirlpool encircled by glass walls that looked out over the lush foliage in back, enclosed by a redwood privacy fence. It was the perfect place for a prime-of-life, divorced, up-and-coming attorney. A great place to bring women. Absurd, too, because she had sold it to him. “I should have called—” she began.
“It’s okay,” he told her. He shrugged, and grinned. “I’m kind of glad to see you. There’s no one important in my life right now… and I guess you heard about Ellie. I’ve been drinking since I heard about her.”
Jan arched a brow. “Had you seen her lately?”
He shook his head. “No… I’ve run into her now and then over the past few years. She dated a guy from my office about five years ago. It’s just that it’s so… awful. When something like that happens, something so horrible, even to a casual acquaintance…”
“I know. It’s scary. I couldn’t help wondering what happened, how she met the guy, how she felt…” She shivered fiercely.
“So you came to see me?”
“Yeah.”
“Because you’re scared.”
“Maybe.”
“Ah. You want some action, but you’re afraid of the exciting new guys you might meet, so you’re going for the humdrum but safe?”
Jan placed her hands on her hips. “Fuck you.”
He grinned. “If that’s what you want.”
She started to get mad, then threw up her hands. She looked down unhappily before staring at him again. “I never said that you were humdrum, Brad. Just the opposite. I never knew where you were.”
He looked at her and nodded after a moment, then smiled. “I’m glad to see you,” he admitted. “But do you remember that you were mad at me last week?”
“You didn’t want to help me pay for Tina’s field trip, and that day they’ve got planned for her art class is nearly a hundred bucks!”
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted my thirteen-year-old going on a weekend field trip!” he said. “Where is my thirteen-year-old?”
“Home, locked in tight. I should be home with her. I can’t stay long—”
“Yes, ma’am, stud service on demand. Fast, too, if that’s what you want.”
She shed her clothing as she walked into the bedroom. It was dark, but she was familiar with the layout of the furniture. Brad didn’t turn on a light. He was naked when he tackled her from behind, already aroused when they crashed down on the bed together.
She was glad of the darkness, confused by the rush of emotions that assailed her as they coupled. It was odd to discover that the awful news of a murder had made her need Brad, not just to talk to, but to be with in a sexual way. And it was somehow even more disturbing tonight to realize again that he was an exceptional lover. Tears stung her eyes as she climaxed, because she’d had such dreams once upon a time, when she’d been young, and things just hadn’t worked out the way she had wanted. Sometimes she could pretend…
He started making love to her once again. He was needy, but not quite ready.
“Talk to me,” he whispered.
And she knew what he wanted. His fantasy was two women. He liked to hear what she’d be doing to someone else while he was doing what he was doing to her…
Sometimes she could play the game. Sometimes she couldn’t.
She suddenly wished that she could see her watch. He was a good lover, and she was in the middle of this, but she was suddenly worried as well. She should be home. She couldn’t be rude enough just to say so. She’d gotten what she’d come for… he hadn’t quite. So she began to talk, saying what he wanted to hear.
And it was all right. His growing state of arousal turned her on more than she’d imagined possible, and they exploded together into a deliciously erotic climax. Moments later, lying at her side, he stroked her hair.
“Too bad you didn’t agree to do it for me. Just once,” he told her. “All kinds of awful things could have been avoided.”
For a moment she felt a strange, cold fear inside.
“Like what?” she whispered.
“Our divorce.” He rolled around, and she felt him trying to study her features. “Of course, we can still do it.”
“What?” she inquired, annoyed. “Brad, we are divorced. You do what you want to do. And you make big bucks, You could hire five women at a time if you wanted.”
She vaguely saw the motion as he shook his head. “I want you and another woman.”
“You’re a pervert.”
“No more so than any other red-blooded American male.”
“You’re cruel to me.”
>
“I’m complimenting you! I want you, and another woman.”
She shook her head, impatient as if she dealt with a child. Then she stroked his beautiful blond hair. “I’ve got to go.”
“Think about it, Just me and you, and another gorgeous woman. Just once. My birthday is coming up.”
She smacked him lightly in the jaw. “Pervert!”
“Hey, my old girlfriend is back in town as well. You and Lori Kelly. What a lineup.”
“Lori Kelly apparently had the sense to know that you were a pervert when we were in high school. And don’t do fantasies about my friends. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“It’s a great fantasy.”
“Brad—”
“All right! I’ll keep it in my head.”
“Great. Now I’ll feel awkward any time we’re together.”
“Hey, don’t. ’Cause you know something?” he said softly.
“What?”
“I do love you, you know.”
She smiled. He held her close. Just held her. It was nice. “I’ve got to go,” she said unhappily.
“I’ll give Tina a call, make sure she’s okay. You can stay a little longer, then I’ll follow you home. How’s that?”
“Nice, Brad, thanks.”
She watched as he dialed their daughter, talked to her, ascertained that everything was all right, and made her swear that she had the doors properly locked and the alarm on. He hung up, flicked on the television, told Jan he’d make them a couple of drinks, and padded out of the room.
She stared at the television. The late-night news was rehashing the earlier news. About Ellie.
“Turn it, please,” she said as Brad came back into the room, handing her a Jack Black and Seven.
He quickly flicked to the Playboy channel.
Jan groaned softly as a two-women, one-man sex scene popped onto the screen.
“So I’m a pervert, huh?”
“Yes,” she said primly.
“Aw, come on, just watch,” he said.
A few minutes later he was making love to her again. When it was over, he whispered, “We perverts need our fixes. Just once, Jan. For my birthday.”
She turned away from him, pulling the sheets over her head. “You want me to go pick up some girl?”
“Sure. Or I can pick her up for you. Or take you places where a woman would come on to you.”
“Pervert!” she said. “Think about it! What would you do if some girl came on to your daughter?”
He was quiet.
“Huh?”
“Kill her. Or him.”
“You couldn’t kill.”
“Yes, actually, I think that I could.”
4
Brad Jackson lifted the receiver quickly as his bedside phone rang.
He usually let the machine get it.
But Jan had dozed off, and he had changed channels to watch the news again. Ellie. Poor damned Ellie.
“Hello?”
“Brad?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Ricky?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Anything new on Ellie?”
“No,” Ricky said impatiently.
“You have any inside information?”
“Are you kidding? There was a leak somewhere in the department—you know there’s actually a half dozen teams on this case— and someone spilled just about everything we know. That news lady seems to have more information than I do. If I learn anything that I can tell you—”
“I’m just kind of worried. I have a wife and daughter, you know.”
“Ex-wife.”
“Whatever, you know that I’m concerned about her.”
“Yeah. Well, Jan is a sensible woman; she’ll know to stay away from strangers.”
“Yeah,” Brad said dryly. He frowned. “You know, Ricky, it’s late—”
“I’m sorry. I needed a favor, You know that Sean Black is in town?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Brad murmured. He couldn’t help but know. Yeah, yeah, everyone had told him already—including Ricky. The great Sean Black was back. Poor boy/school hero. Football genius. Famous writer. The guy who muscled up by just waking in the morning. He’d almost been convicted of murder— and now people were half killing themselves to get the guy’s autograph.
“He wants to reach Lori Kelly. Or Corcoran, or whatever her name is now.”
Brad felt a prickle of annoyance run down his spine. He wasn’t really jealous of Sean Black, never had been. He’d had the advantages all his life; Sean had just been a hard-luck kid. But it had irritated him way back when that Lori had been such good friends with Sean— when he had supposedly been the hottest thing around and she’d been his privileged choice. That had been a long time ago. A lot was forgotten, but feelings, emotions, annoyances remained. He’d had a lot of knock-downs since then, but he liked his life now. Jan was a great ex-wife. Available—without the nagging. He really did love her, and his daughter was a beauty queen and a brain, the perfect child. He did what he wanted and never went without.
But he had to admit, he’d been really curious to see Lori Kelly again himself. All right, so it was unlikely he’d get Jan and Lori into bed at the same time. He’d still like to see Lori.
Seemed Sean Black wanted to beat him to the punch.
“Do you have Lori’s number?” Ricky asked.
“Do I have her number…?” he repeated, then smiled, shaking his head with amusement as he looked to his side, where Jan was beginning to stir beneath the sheets. He smacked a hand on her rump, covering the mouthpiece on the phone with his other hand. “Hey—what’s Lori’s number?”
Jan turned over, hair tangled, eyes heavy— and still suspicious. “Why?”
“I’m going to call her over.”
She tried to hit him. He laughed, stopping her.
“Seriously, Ricky wants to know.”
“Ricky?”
“Ricky Garcia wants the number. For Sean.”
“Oh. For Sean!” Jan sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. “I saw Lori tonight. I meant to tell her that Sean was in town… but then I saw the paper about poor Ellie and I blanked on that. Let’s see, her number is four-four-four… four-four-four… damn! I forgot. But she’s listed. Under L. Corcoran, on Almansa.”
Brad conveyed that information to Ricky, told him to keep in touch, and hung up. Then he pretended to dial information and ask for the number, and then dial the number.
Jan sprang up. “What are you doing?”
He looked at her innocently. “Hey, I don’t want to let Sean get in there first, and there might be danger out there on the streets. She’s your friend, you should share. I’m calling Lori Kelly Corcoran to see if she wants in on my great stud service—”
Jan wrenched the phone out of his hands, her eyes wide, her features taut.
“Hey, now!” Brad teased.
“You leave Lori Kelly out of this.”
“Jan!”
“You were nuts about her in high school.”
“We were kids!”
“You said she was great.”
“She was.”
“She said you never touched her.”
“One of us is lying,” Brad said, eyes sparkling. Jan made a point of slamming the phone receiver down, and he started laughing, pinning her to the bed. “All right, all right, so we won’t ask Lori over. We’ll let her take the chance of picking up a homicidal maniac.”
“Sean always liked Lori; she can pick him up.”
“And maybe Sean is a homicidal maniac.”
“You’re a pervert, so maybe you’re a homicidal maniac, too.”
He ignored that. “Okay, so we’ll have to pick another woman. Just once. Then we could get married again.”
She inhaled sharply, staring at him.
“I’d have it all out of my system,” he said.
“Really? How could I ever be sure?”
“I’m getting older. Tired.”
She stared at him skep
tically.
“Honest.”
She groaned.
He smiled. “Honestly honest. I wouldn’t take vows again without meaning to be faithful. Think about it.”
“Wait a minute. Are you trying to bribe me?” she said indignantly. “Marriage isn’t something decided because of a bribe.”
“Think about it,” he insisted.
* * *
True to his word, Brad followed Jan home.
“Think about it!” he whispered one more time, nuzzling her earlobe on the front porch.
“I’ve thought!” she protested.
“Naw… I’ve sown the seeds. I know it.”
“Good night, Brad.”
She let herself in, reset the alarm, and checked on Tina, who was sleeping soundly.
In her own room she turned on the television, thinking she’d watch a movie until she fell asleep, and that would get her mind off Brad’s absurd proposal. But the channel was on CNN, and the news came blaring out at her again.
She did forget about Brad.
A serious, attractive young blond woman was talking about the awful thing that had happened to Ellie.
And all she could think about was murder.
5
At first Lori hadn’t been able to sleep. All the wine in the world wouldn’t have helped.
Then Lori dozed.
When she slept, she dreamed, reliving the past, knowing that she was reliving the past, unable to stop the frames of memory that played before her eyes.
She was seventeen that day at the rock pit. Her mother had told her that she was at the prime of life, with everything in the world going her way. She was young and literally a beauty queen, having just been elected to the title of Miss Orange Blossom for their end-of-the-year dance and parade.
And her heart was breaking.
Over Sean.
In the endless days to come, she knew that any small twist of behavior on anyone’s part might have changed destiny, might have changed what happened, destroying so many young lives. But all she knew as the day began was that she was dying… over him.
Naturally, no one knew. She was Lori Kelly, and—partially because of Gramps and his wisdom!—she could pride herself on being kind and decent, but then, admittedly, she was a teenage girl, and she did have her ego and her pride. And though things might have been her own fault, she was crushed by what had happened between her and Sean.