"Fine. I won't."
Dana leaned back in her chair, her shoulders sagging. "Why not?"
"Because I'd ruin it." She jerked her eyes away from Dana's devastated face and finished it. "And I'll be damned before I ruin two kids like he ruined us."
There was silence, then Mia heard the sound of the nickel sliding back across the table. "I can't help you, Mia," Dana whispered. "I'm sorry." For minutes they sat not speaking, then Dana sighed. "Can I give you some free advice?"
"Can I stop you?"
"No. Human contact is a need, just like food. No food, you starve. If you deprive yourself of human contact it can do the same to your soul. You're attracted to Reed?"
Mia drew a breath. "Yeah."
"Then don't run away from him. See where this takes you. You don't have to have a house with kids and a husband to have a relationship. And despite the Valentine's Day cards, not every relationship is meant to last forever."
"Would you accept less than forever?"
"No, because I've tasted it and now I can't imagine being satisfied with anything less. But if you're bound and determined not to have filet mignon, then don't push away the hamburger. If you're honest with the man, hamburger might be enough sustenance to get you through. And who knows? Maybe he only likes hamburger, too."
"See that's where you're wrong. Only the sleazebags only like hamburger."
"And Reed Solliday is no sleazebag," Dana said heavily.
No, he wasn't. "Dana, I don't want to hurt anyone like I hurt Guy. Reed's a nice man. So it's hands off. I've gotta go. Thanks for dinner."
From her kitchen window, Dana watched Mia drive away. Ethan came up behind her, slid his hands around her waist. She leaned into him. needing him more than ever.
"Did you tell her?" he murmured and she shook her head.
"No, the time wasn't right."
Ethan splayed his hand against her abdomen. "You have to tell her sometime, Dana. She's a big girl and she loves you. She'll be happy for us."
That, of course, was the issue. "I know she'll want to be happy for us, Ethan. I guess I'm selfish enough to want to wait until I know she will be."
"Well, don't wait too much longer. I want to tell people. I want to shop for cribs and booties and stuff." He turned her in his arms and kissed her soundly. "But first, let's talk a little about that whole dominatrix thing."
Dana laughed as he'd meant for her to. "I do love you."
He pulled her close, held her tight. "I know."
Wednesday, November 29, 7:55 p.m.
Holly Wheaton watched Reed approach like an angry cat watches a recalcitrant mouse. Of course, Reed wasn't a mouse. But that didn't make Holly Wheaton any less a cat. A cat in a low-cut sheer blouse, suede miniskirt, and killer pumps.
It was abundantly clear what the woman had had in mind. Reed found himself curiously affected and repelled and… making comparisons. He wished Mia could be here to put this woman in her place. But also because he just wanted her here. Mia didn't have Wheaton's features, that face that made men's fingers pause on the remote as they channel surfed. But Mia had something more… natural. More appealing. Just… more. He let his eyes dip briefly below Wheaton's chin. Mia had her there, too. Hands down. Or hands on. Focus, Solliday. The shark is circling. He seated himself across from Wheaton and shook his head when the waiter appeared to fill his glass.
"No thank you." He handed the waiter the menu. "I won't be staying."
Wheaton's cheeks flushed. "I recall a deal. And speaking of such, you're late."
"I had another dinner engagement."
"You could have broken it."
"No, I couldn't have. Nor would I have. I don't have much time, Miss Wheaton. I promised you an interview. Please commence."
"Very well." She put her recorder on the table. "Tell me about the investigation."
"I can't comment on any ongoing investigation."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're welshing?"
"No. You asked for an interview. I didn't promise to answer your questions. Now I will, of course, provided you ask me something I'm at liberty to divulge."
She sat for a moment, then smiled and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. "So who was the woman that Detective Mitchell pursued today?"
Reed just looked at her, perplexed on the outside, but raging-bull mad on the inside. "Oh, you mean at the press conference. She thought she saw someone we wanted to talk to, but she was mistaken." He shrugged. "No mystery."
Wheaton huffed a chuckle before pulling a personal DVD player from the leather bag at her feet. She handed it to him. "Just hit play. The resemblance is uncanny."
He did and the rage inside him grew as he watched the camera pan the crowd and focus on the woman who was most likely Mia's half-sister. This was none of Wheaton's business. It was Mia's pain and he'd be damned if Wheaton cashed in on it. She took the player from his hand. "Tell me what I want to know or I'll go public with this."
"With?" he asked mildly. "She's not a person of interest.
Just a face in the crowd."
She lifted a shoulder. "Fine. I'll find out on my own."
"You do that. When you find out, let me know. I might like to go to dinner with her."
Wednesday, November 29, 8:00 p.m.
He sat at his desk, damning Atticus Lucas when he should be running through the evening's logistics one last time. One egg in the corner of the display case and the cops were all over the school. What the hell was a grown man doing playing with beads?
He'd been in that art room. The cops would find his prints somewhere. Sometime. And if they were the least bit good at their jobs, they'd realize something wasn't quite right. But it would take them… oh, days, at least to get to that point.
Unfortunately, they'd found evidence of his work in the lab as well. It was impossible. He'd cleaned so thoroughly and run the fan the entire time he worked in the hood. But they'd found something. He wouldn't panic. He needed time to finish. Time to do it right. But now, because of Adler and her idiocy, he'd have to hurry the job.
But all that was a distraction. He had work to do. Soon it would be time to move. He knew exactly where to go, what to do. There was an energy in the air. It would be something new. He was growing bored with houses anyway. He was ready to move on.
He'd timed it all well, but he'd need to be quick before the sprinklers and smoke detectors alerted the motel staff.
Which at the chosen time of night would be one lone person at the front desk drinking coffee and trying to stay awake.
He'd already scoped it the night before. He was ready. Mr. Dougherty wouldn't suffer. It wasn't his fault that he'd married a bitchy woman. Mrs. Dougherty, though… she had a lot to answer for. Very soon, she'd begin.
By answering to me.
The ringing of the phone jarred him back to reality. His first reaction was fear, but rage followed quickly. Rage at Adler for bringing the police to his doorstep. Which brought the fear to me. Was it the police? What did they now know? He answered the phone on the fourth ring. "Yes."
"I need to talk to you."
He blinked, more at the fierce tone than the words. "Okay. Why?"
"I've talked with Manny. He told me everything."
His fist clenched the phone, then he forced himself to relax. He injected a note of amused incredulity into his voice. "You believed him? Come on."
"I don't know. I need to talk to you."
"Okay. Meet me and we'll discuss it rationally."
There was a long pause. "Okay. Flannagan's Bar in half an hour."
He looked at his list. He'd checked nearly everything off, but there were still a few ends to tie off before he visited the Doughertys in their hotel. "Make it forty-five."