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He liked Jess more than he’d ever imagined. It had nothing to do with the physical attraction that drew his eyes in her direction all the time. It had to do with her warm smile and her friendly conversation, and her funny, easygoing outlook on life.
Yeah, he liked her, and he’d seen an answering attraction in her eyes tonight—for her sake he should clear out right now. He should just get in his car and leave.
JESS RINSED THE ICED TEA glasses and put them in the dishwasher, feeling oddly unsettled. She’d set out to find some facts about her mysterious tenant, but all she had now were more mysteries.
He had no family and yet he was glad about that.
He grew up somewhere near New York City, but when she’d asked him where exactly, he’d continued to be vague.
Jess picked up the newspaper that Rob had brought inside, and went to check on Kelsey. It was supposed to be Kelsey’s job to bring the afternoon paper in each evening, but occasionally her daughter forgot. It was all part of being six years old.
Kelsey was fast asleep, the bedsheets twisted around her like some kind of Roman toga. Jess smiled, pushing Kelsey’s damp brown hair back from her warm, round, freckled face. She hadn’t expected that her quiet conversation in the kitchen with Rob would disturb her daughter. Kelsey would remain sound asleep throughout the noisiest thunderstorm. The kid could sleep through anything.
It probably came as a form of self-protection, from the days when Kelsey’s father was still living with them. Ian Davis, with his shaggy blond curls and mocking blue eyes was the first violinist and concert master of the Sarasota Symphony Orchestra. He was flashy, arrogant and selfish. And interminably loud and often rudely, nastily abusive. Jess’s ex-husband was jealous as hell, and would start a fight with her over something as innocent as a friendly smile she gave to the attendant at the gas station.
Yet fidelity wasn’t in Ian’s vocabulary when it pertained to himself.
Jess could still feel the giddy sense of freedom she’d felt on that day two years ago, when she’d packed up Ian’s things and sent them to the SSO office with a letter from her lawyer.
She carried the newspaper into the living room. Doris had been wrong. As tough as things were financially, Jess didn’t need—or want—a man around. She and Kelsey were getting along just fine on their own.
Of course, Ian still didn’t agree. According to him, their relationship was in no way over. He came around constantly and left the key to his condo in her mailbox, on her porch, in her car. Did he really expect her to come crawling back to him? Jess would send the key back, but she’d just find it again several days later. Finally, she tossed it into her junk drawer. Game over. Let Ian think he won.
As Jess set the paper down on the coffee table, the headline caught her eye. As usual, it was about the Sarasota serial killer. It was amazing. Sarasota wasn’t that big a city. Sure, there was crime, but nothing ever like this. It was disconcerting to think that a madman was out there, prowling the streets, hunting down and killing young women.
The latest victim was twenty-two years old. She had come home from graduate school for spring break, to visit her parents. Her body had been found, raped and murdered, in her own bedroom. Jess shivered as she read the interview with the police.
The killings had been going on for six months now, although the media and the public had only known about it for half that time. The FBI were closemouthed about whether or not they had any suspects. They warned all area residents—women in particular—to keep their doors and windows locked, and to avoid going out alone, particularly at night.
Jess stood and locked the front door.
Of course, with Rob Carpenter living in the attached apartment, she should feel safe. The walls were so thin, she wouldn’t have to scream very loud for him to hear. Unless of course, she thought with a wry smile, remembering Doris’s words of warning, Rob himself was the Sarasota serial killer.
But that wasn’t really such a funny joke. True, Doris was probably just being melodramatic as usual, but the fact remained that Jess didn’t know very much about Rob at all. He was a stranger. On top of that, it seemed oddly coincidental that he should have moved to Sarasota six months ago—right before the murders started.
Jess mentally gave herself a shake. Oddly coincidental? She was getting as bad as Doris. Sure, he had moved to Sarasota six months ago. But so had lots of other people. It wasn’t odd, it was just plain coincidental.
Rob was just a nice, quiet guy who didn’t like to talk about his past. No big deal. Jess didn’t like to talk about her marriage to Ian. That didn’t make her an axe murderer. Maybe Rob had been married to some stinker. Maybe he’d had a lousy childhood. Maybe he just wasn’t comfortable talking about his personal life. He’d opened up quickly enough when she’d asked him about movies and books. Of course, that was just glorified small talk.
Rob was just a nice, quiet guy.
Still, Jess stood up and locked the back door anyway.
THIS PART WAS THE BEST. He had brought the rope, of course, and the knife. He loved the look on her face when he tied one end of the rope around his own ankle. And he loved it even more when he told her to tie the other end around her leg.
But first, he ordered her to get herself ready—to put on her makeup while he got undressed.
She was crying by then, but that was okay. They always cried around this time.
She would stop soon.
Chapter Two
“Hey, Bug, what’s happening?”
“Rob!” Kelsey’s voice carried clearly inside from the backyard. “You’re home!”
Jess moved to the kitchen window and watched as her daughter leapt from her swing set and ran to greet Rob.
She glanced at the clock. It was almost five—earlier than he usually came home.
It had only been two weeks, but it seemed as if Rob had been living in the spare apartment forever.
It hadn’t taken long to settle into a routine of sorts. He would come home from work and play in the yard with Kelsey. Jess would come out after a while, and invite him to join them for dinner. He would refuse, except for the times she hadn’t bothered to cook. If she was planning to send out for pizza or Chinese food, he’d agree to eat with them—but only if he could pay. Since last Monday, Jess had been insisting they split the bill.
Why? Because they’d been eating an awful lot of pizza and Chinese food lately.
The evenings had quickly settled into a routine, too. Jess and Kelsey would plan to play a game or rent a video, and they’d invite Rob to join them. Sometimes he’d stay. Sometimes he’d take his car and go out—where, he never said, and Jess never dared to ask.
Rob always kept their conversations light, never getting personal. He talked about the weather, baseball, Kelsey’s school. Small talk. Although last week, the subject of Ian had come up, after Jess’s ex paid her a particularly unpleasant visit.
Jess had felt Rob watching her after Ian finally left. She’d glanced up at him and tried to smile. “Sorry about that,” she’d apologized.
Rob shook his head. “I wasn’t sure whether to leave and give you privacy, or…”
“I appreciated it that you stayed,” Jess said, meeting his eyes. “Ian was drunk again and he’s something of a wild card even when he’s sober.” She laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in her voice. “He drinks, and then he thinks that he wants me back. I don’t know why. He didn’t want me when we were married.”
Rob leaned back against the rail of the deck, still watching her.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, trying to shake herself out of the depression that always followed one of Ian’s visits. “I don’t mean to sound so bitter.”
“He’s pretty screwed up,” Rob commented. He hesitated, looking down at the stained boards of the deck before he continued. “Jess, may I ask you a personal question?”
Silently, she nodded. This entire conversation was pretty personal. She’d half expected Rob to run away after Ian had left—to distance himself from her sordid personal life. But he was planted rather firmly against the deck railing, clearly not going anywhere.
Rob was quiet for another moment, choosing his words carefully. “Has Ian ever…hit you or Kelsey?”
“No,” she answered honestly. “He never did that. He had temper tantrums and tore up the living room a couple of times. He smashed a full set of dishes once.”
“But he never hurt you?” Rob persisted.
“Not intentionally,” Jess told him. “One time he broke a window, and I got cut by a piece of flying glass, but that was an accident.”
“It starts that way,” Rob said. “An accidental burn. An accidental cut.” His voice got harder, rougher with emotion. “An accidental fist in your face.”
Jess stared at him.
“I think you should get a restraining order,” Rob continued. His eyes were almost steely behind his glasses. “What if he comes around here when I’m not home? What if next time he ‘accidentally’ hurts Kelsey?”
Jess was shocked. “Even though Ian doesn’t pay much attention to Kelsey, he’d never hurt her,” she protested. “He’s her father.”
Rob laughed, his voice harsh. “Oh, Jess,” he said. “You have no idea what a father can do to a child.”
“But you do know,” she ventured, realizing what he was saying. “Don’t you?”
Something changed in Rob’s face, as if he suddenly became aware of the fact that he’d said too much, that he’d given himself away. As Jess looked at him, she saw an array of emotions parade across his face. His eyes flicked toward his apartment door, and she knew he wanted to run away from this conversation.
But he didn’t leave. He met her eyes squarely, and he answered her. “Yes.”
Watching him, Jess realized that she and Kelsey were important to him—important enough for him to risk revealing some of the past that he kept so carefully concealed.
His father had abused him. There was no doubt of that in Jess’s mind.
“It started with accidents, too,” Rob said quietly. “You were lucky you got out of your relationship when you did. I didn’t have that option.”
Jess felt her eyes fill with tears as he straightened up. “Think about getting a restraining order,” he said again, ending the conversation by going into his apartment.
He hadn’t brought the topic up again, but Jess couldn’t forget that tiny piece of himself that he’d allowed her to see. She was positive that the only reason he’d told her as much as he had was because he so very much didn’t want the same thing to happen to her or to Kelsey.
But despite that one incident, Rob continued to keep his distance. He never, ever stayed after Kelsey had gone to bed.
Funny, Kelsey’s bedtime seemed to be getting later and later these days.
Jess wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or insulted that he hadn’t yet asked her out. She could see his attraction each time she glanced into his eyes. Still, part of her liked the fact that he was moving at a snail’s pace. It was gentlemanly. It was romantic. At the very least it was different.
But another part of her was frustrated beyond belief. This was the part of her that filled her dreams with steamy, erotic visions of her new neighbor, the likes of which she’d only imagined. And boy, had she imagined. She dreamed of Rob kissing her relentlessly. She dreamed of his arms around her, his hands caressing her, their naked bodies pressed together, straining to become one…
The sad reality was, if she was really lucky, he’d stay for dinner and afterward they’d play Candy Land.
Jess went out onto the deck.
She could see Rob and Kelsey, crouched in the dirt, heads close together as they examined something at the edge of the garden.
As Jess started down the stairs, he glanced up.
For the briefest instant, she saw hunger in his eyes and raw desire on every angle and plane of his lean face. But it was gone so quickly, Jess was left wondering if she had imagined it. Still, her mouth was dry and she had to moisten her lips before she spoke.
“Hi.” A brilliant opener. No doubt he’d be too dazzled by her conversational skills to even hazard a reply.
But he smiled, apparently undaunted, standing up and brushing off his hands. “Hey.”
“We found a worm,” Kelsey informed her. “But it’s all dried up and yucky.”
“Kelsey, please don’t—” Jess sighed as her daughter wiped her muddy hands across her clean T-shirt “—get your shirt dirty.” She sent Rob a look of amused dismay. “Too late.”
“Sorry,” Kelsey said, frowning down at herself, her forehead wrinkled with her distress.
“It’ll wash out. But go up and change, please,” Jess said. “We’ve got to get going.”
Kelsey headed for the stairs up to the deck with her normal explosion of speed. She was like a miniature rocketship—either standing still or moving at the speed of sound.
Jess turned back to Rob. “You’re home early,” she said. “I was sure we’d be gone before you got here.”
He didn’t ask where she and Kelsey were going. Come to think of it, except for that one time he never asked anything that was even remotely personal. “They were having a party back at the office,” Rob explained. “The music got too loud. I wasn’t getting any work done, so I thought I might as well come home.”
Where are you going? He didn’t ask the question, but Jess could see it in his eyes. He wanted to know. So why didn’t he simply ask?
“I was going to leave a note on your door,” Jess said, answering the question anyway. “I got a call from the Pelican Club out on Siesta Key. Tonight’s entertainment canceled and they asked me to fill in. I’ve got to be there in an hour.”
“The Pelican Club.” Rob poked at the garden with the toe of his shoe, burying the mummified worm under a clod of dirt. “Nice place. I’ve gone to see you play there before.”
“I know,” Jess said quietly, watching him.
Rob glanced up at her, and the power generated as his eyes met hers seemed to sizzle the very air around them. He quickly looked away and the sun’s reflection on his glasses hid his eyes.
“Will you come with us?” The words were out of her mouth before she’d taken the time to think. But as soon as she said them, she realized that she was, essentially, asking Rob Carpenter out. She immediately backpedaled, adding, “Doris can’t baby-sit tonight, and all of the local kids are going to a dance at the high school, so I’m stuck and Kelsey’s going to be there, too. I’m sure she’d love to have someone to eat dinner with while I’m playing.” Lord, now it sounded as if she wanted Rob to come along as a baby-sitter. And that wasn’t true at all. “I’m doing this badly,” she continued almost desperately, “but it’s been a while since I’ve asked a man out and…you’re probably busy. Sorry, I’m…sorry.”
“I’m not busy.” If he was looking at her, she couldn’t tell. The sun’s reflection still kept her from seeing his eyes. But he didn’t say anything else.
“Would you… Do you…want to come?”
Rob didn’t respond at first, as if it were a question that required deep thought to find the answer. But he lifted his head and met her eyes again when he did speak, and his gaze was steady and very certain. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”
Jess smiled at him, her entire face lighting with her delight, and Rob felt more of the defenses he’d erected against this woman eroding, just totally melting away.
He couldn’t help but think about that evening last week when, after Jess’s ex-husband had put in an appearance, Rob had found himself telling her about his father, for God’s sake. He just stood there, watching and listening to himself tell her things he hadn’t told anyone. Ever. He’d had to force himself to stop talking, to walk away before he told her more. And now he’d gone and told her he’d like to go on a date with her. What was he thinking? Where was his mind?
Dear God, he was in trouble here. It was all he could do not to reach out and touch her smooth, sun-kissed cheek with his hand. She’d just asked him out and like a fool, he’d accepted, pushing them both one step closer toward the hell and heartache that was inevitable. God help them both.
“Great,” she said. “Give me fifteen minutes to get changed and then we can go. Mind if we take your car? My clutch is acting up again and—” She looked around the driveway, and then out toward the street. “Where is your car?”
“I lent it to…someone,” Rob replied, unwilling to tell her that he’d intercepted Ian again, just moments ago, out on the street in front of her house. Ian had come with the excuse that he needed to borrow Jess’s car. Rob had lent Ian his own car, simply to keep him from hassling Jess. Ian was supposed to return it later tonight. “I didn’t think I’d need it. I could call a cab and—”
“No,” Jess interrupted. “That’s not necessary. My car will get us there.” She smiled, another burst of sunshine. “I’ll drive along the bus route just in case.”
“If you want, I can take a look at your car,” Rob said. “I’m pretty good with foreign engines.”
He could see surprise in Jess’s eyes. What kind of computer geek knew the first little thing about cars? But she didn’t say a word, didn’t ask one single question. She simply accepted whatever minuscule tidbits of personal information he threw in her direction. She respected his privacy. Yet he could tell that she hoped he’d open up and really talk to her. Too bad, because that was one thing that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to leave her with all of her questions still unanswered.
“Pull your car out of the garage,” Rob said evenly. “I have to make a couple of phone calls first, but then I’ll check it out.”
“All right,” she responded. “Thanks.”
She used her key to trigger the automatic garage opener and the door that was built right into the side of the house rolled up. She disappeared into the dark, cool gloom and after a moment the car started with a muffled roar.
Unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched, Rob glanced up at the neighbor’s rundown old house. Sure enough, there was Mr. Greene, sitting in his wheelchair on his porch, staring down at him with cold, baleful eyes. Rob had seen the old man out there when he’d come home even late at night—past 2:00 a.m. Mr. Greene was always watching. He looked as if he were judging, condemning, like an aging Roman ruler, ready to give the signal of thumbs-up or down.
Thumbs-down. That seemed to fit this situation perfectly.
