He stared at her in shock. Silent and limp and unmoving and… dead. And he was still inside her.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
And as he traced the line of saliva that trailed slowly out of her mouth with his finger, he felt himself begin to grow hard again.
He stopped speaking.
Sheila lay beside him, unmoving, not saying anything. After a few minutes, the silence in the room was more than he could bear, and Ethan opened his mouth to say something. Anything. But she beat him to it.
“You liked it,” she said, but her voice held no trace of accusation. She was simply stating a fact.
He looked at her. “Yes. I liked it. I liked how it made me feel. Powerful, in control, dominant. Do you know what I mean?”
She nodded.
“Do you think I’m sick?” He found himself afraid of her answer.
“Yes,” she said, and her eyes closed for a brief moment. Then they opened again. “But it’s okay. I can help you. If you want my help.”
He nodded, too overcome to speak.
“But you’re right, we need to get out of here.” Sheila’s fingers brushed his cheek. “We need to start over someplace new.”
He nodded again, then rolled on top of her. Her lips met his eagerly, full of passion and desire, and a surge of bliss went through him.
Sheila accepted him. She loved him despite everything, and it was all going to be okay. They were going to have a new life together. His hands moved down her naked body and she moaned. Sighing, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to get completely lost in her.
He didn’t realize she had the gun until he felt the cold steel barrel press against the base of his throat.
He felt his eyes widen in surprise, and he looked down at her.
Sheila’s face had changed.
“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker,” she said. Her eyes were black and cold. “Or I’ll blow as many holes in you as it takes to make you get off me.” Her eyes never wavered from his face, and they were serious. Deadly.
He rolled off her in disbelief, never taking his eyes off the gun. Sheila sat up, pointing the weapon at his face, the light from the muted TV flickering over her naked body. Her cheeks were flushed, and not from the kissing.
He couldn’t help but think she looked magnificent.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, her flush deepening. “Don’t admire me, you sick fuck. You think I can help you? I can’t. I want to shoot you so badly I can’t stand it. You’re a monster, and you’ve always been a monster, and you deserve to rot in hell.” Her free hand pointed toward the door. “Even if I don’t do it for me, I would do it for all those women you killed, you twisted son of a bitch.”
Ethan stared at her. She had played him. She had totally had him believing that she loved him, that she wanted to be with him forever. She had won. Checkmate.
She was going to kill him, and she didn’t care if that meant she’d starve to death in the basement. She wanted him dead.
He found himself strangely aroused.
“But I didn’t kill any of them,” he said calmly. “I’m not a killer, Sheila. Never have been, and don’t plan to be.”
She frowned. Those weren’t the words she’d been expecting him to say, and in her moment of confusion, the gun wavered slightly.
He went for it.
CHAPTER 40
J erry was trying not to fall asleep. He was doing the best he could to stay alert by sitting at Mike Torrance’s desk and playing solitaire on the computer, and by drinking cup after cup of putrid coffee.
The East Precinct was quiet, even for 3:00 a.m. A bunch of cops had gone with Torrance to Lake Stevens, and the ultra-perky Kim Kellogg had snatched another bunch to accompany her to Wolfe and Maddox’s apartment in the U-district. Another handful had been called away on a possible gang-related shooting in Volunteer Park. Jerry had worked quite a few of these shifts during his time with PD and didn’t miss them one bit.
The officer on duty looked as bored and tired as he did. Jerry had tried to make small talk with him as the guy worked his way through a stack of papers, but the younger man wasn’t interested in chatting. He was probably thinking Jerry should just go home, but Jerry couldn’t bring himself to leave. While he had no official reason to stick around, this was his case in every way that mattered. He needed to know if Sheila Tao was still alive. He wanted to be here when they brought Wolfe in. He felt a sense of personal responsibility to Morris to see this through. The big guy had had a tough few weeks, and he deserved some finality, whatever the outcome.
Jerry sat back in the springy, ergonomic desk chair at Torrance’s desk and wondered where the hell Morris was. He’d called him several times, unable to fight the feeling that his client had gone back up to the Lake Stevens house. He hoped not-it was ridiculous to think of the investment banker, untrained and unarmed, snooping around the house of a probable killer-but Morris was so stubborn that Jerry couldn’t put it past him. Because, frankly, it’s what Jerry would have done if the situation had been reversed and the love of his life had gone missing.
A husky voice interrupted his thoughts. Jerry glanced up from his mindless computer game to see Abby Maddox standing there. She didn’t look bad at all considering she’d just found out her boyfriend might be a murderer. Her shiny black hair was tucked behind her ears, and without makeup, she could have passed for eighteen.
“How’re you holding up?” Jerry closed his solitaire game and looked up at her. Her pale skin was luminescent under the fluorescent lights. “You must be tired.”
She sat on the edge of the desk. “Too wound up.”
“Maybe you should have gone to the motel.”
Maddox shook her head. She’d declined Kellogg’s offer to drive her there earlier, preferring instead to wait until her apartment was cleared and she could go home.
“There’s a sofa in the break room if you want to lie down,” Jerry said. “But I can’t guarantee how clean it is. More than a few cops have slept there over the years and I’m pretty sure it smells.”
This got a small laugh out of her. “Thanks, I’ll pass.” Maddox looked at him closely. “Listen, this might sound weird, but… I’ve seen you before, right? You followed us.”
Jerry grimaced. “Yikes. Guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.”
“No, you were pretty good. I wouldn’t have noticed you at all. It’s just that Ethan was always really paranoid about stuff like that.” She averted her eyes. “I guess now I know why.”
The young woman looked so sad that Jerry had to restrain himself from putting his arm around her. “Hey, how about some coffee? It tastes like shit, but it’s hot and fresh. Just made a pot.”
She peeked into his mug and wrinkled her nose. “Tempting, but do you know if there’s any tea?”
“There wasn’t anything in the break room?”
“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to look. I don’t exactly work here.”
Jerry stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “I don’t either, but it didn’t stop me.”
“I saw a twenty-four-hour diner a couple blocks down.” Maddox leaned on the edge of the desk and Jerry got a whiff of her scent. She smelled fresh, almost tropical. It was rather inviting, even under the circumstances. “Think it’d be okay if I went and grabbed something there? I could use some food, too.”
Jerry gave her a sympathetic glance. “You’re not supposed to leave without a police escort. Did Torrance explain that to you? You’re a material witness now. They have to keep an eye on you, for your own protection.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“You have a place to stay in case they don’t clear your apartment tonight?”
She blinked and her face sagged a little. He noticed her eyes were moist. “No.”
Jerry mentally kicked himself for upsetting her. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it figured out.”