Cold Midnight (25 page)

When you got right down to it, she hadn’t said much of anything in that conversation. She was
still
saying what was expected of her,
still
holding everything at bay. He’d thought they’d shared a breakthrough, but all they’d really shared was platitudes and sex. Maybe that worked for other people, but it ticked
him
off. He didn’t want platitudes. He wanted Kylie, naked in more ways than one, sharing what she really felt rather than what she wanted everyone to
think
she felt.

Groaning, he scrubbed his hands over his face. Christ, his fucking divorce hadn’t been this much work or hurt nearly as much. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Didn’t know what to say, how to act. Should he corner her or leave her alone? Should he walk away and never look back? Could he? Had he even tried hard enough yet? Or the right way?

Frustration made his head begin to throb. He needed a plan, a different approach. Maybe it was ironic, but he needed a strategy to strip away
her
strategy. If she wanted to play life like it was a game, then he had to figure out a way to outplay her until she had no defenses.

And in the meantime, he needed to solve the damn case. Maybe if he did that, closure would help drag her out of her emotional quicksand. Or, considering how guilty Quinn looked and acted, it could drag her under . . .

He needed other suspects.

He knew the police at the time interviewed fellow tennis competitors, amateur and professional, but hadn’t come up with anyone viable. Maybe she’d had an obsessive fan no one knew about. Except obsessed fans didn’t work in twos. Hell, maybe the attack had had nothing to do with tennis. Maybe she’d had a rival at school, someone whose boy-friend decided he had a crush on Kylie instead. Maybe she’d blown the curve on a chemistry exam. Maybe she’d spurned the advances of a boy. Any one of those scenarios could have led to a teen boy, or girl, employing the help of a friend to teach her a lesson. But surely she would have remembered something like that and brought it up after the attack. Unless she hadn’t realized anything like that had happened.

And finding anyone who looked as logical as a suspect as Quinn depended heavily on several key variables coming together. Whoever did it knew when and where to catch Kylie alone. That meant they had to know her workout schedule and her workout path. Considering how often Chase trained with her, they also had to know
his
schedule and that on that day at that particular time, he would be occupied by English class at Kendall Falls Community College.

And then a truly awful thought struck him. What if the attack had been about
him
? Some twisted kid got angry at
him
for some perceived slight and took it out on his girlfriend. And, fuck, that line of thinking opened up a whole new slew of possibilities. He hadn’t been the only one close to Kylie. Someone pissed at Quinn or Jane or either of her parents could have cornered her. And that didn’t take into account the group of girls she’d hung around with. Kylie was known for sticking up for her friends. Had she ticked off someone that way?

Jesus, the list was endless. It didn’t help that T.J. had struck out with the mug books. Having a suspect in the present would sure help in trying to figure out the past.

All he could hope was that Sylvia got a hit on the other blood on Quinn’s shirt that sent him in a workable, new direction.

37

JANE STEERED HER LEXUS THROUGH THE GATED
entrance of her neighborhood, appreciating, even in the rain, the majesty of the towering palm trees that lined both sides of the street at precise intervals. Her cell phone began to ring, and she checked the caller ID screen before eagerly flipping it open. “Hi, Tiger.”

“I need to see you now.”

The urgency in his voice sent a rush of pleasure flowing over her. “I thought you wanted a late dinner.”

“No. I need to see you now.”

Realizing she’d mistaken anxiety for urgency, she frowned. “What is it?”

“Just . . . where are you?”

“I’m almost home.”

“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

“Wait! Do you think that’s a good idea?” But he’d already hung up.

Determined to not let concern put creases in her brow just yet, Jane pressed the button that opened the door of her two-car garage and pulled in.

In the house, she deposited her briefcase and bag in her office then continued on into her bedroom, unbuttoning her dress along the way. The three-month-old house was cool and smelled like a meadow, the quiet disturbed only by the low hum of the air filter next to her bed.

She changed into a pink sundress and let her hair down before walking barefoot into the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of iced tea. By the time Wade’s BMW pulled into her driveway, she was standing in the living room waiting for him, her toes sinking into plush new carpet while the ceiling fan spun lazily above her head. Sipping tea, she watched him get out of the car and run for the door as if the rain would melt him. He was frowning so hard that lines appeared engraved on either side of his mouth.

She’d never seen him angry before, and a thrill of anticipation zipped through her. Maybe he would earn his tiger stripes, so to speak, in bed later. It shocked her that she could want him again so soon after their morning together. Kylie had been an absolute fool to let this man go. Well, Jane thought, one woman’s trash was another woman’s pleasure.

She opened the front door before he rang the bell, and instead of the smile he’d been giving her lately when he saw her, he brushed by her into the foyer.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Jane said wryly.

“She’s going to find out,” he said.

Jane knew who he meant, and what, and struggled to keep her expression from reflecting the sudden wild pounding of her heart. “How? We’ve been discreet. Well, before you parked in my driveway just now, anyway.” She tried to smile to temper the criticism.

He didn’t seem to notice. “Detective Chase Manning questioned me.”

Her attempt to smile turned to bafflement. “About what?”

He walked into the living room, raking a hand through damp, normally perfect hair. Jane followed, refraining from asking him to remove his shoes. What he’d said was more upsetting than the thought of a dirty carpet anyway.

“He thinks I could have had something to do with Kylie’s attack,” Wade said.

Jane stopped, stunned. “What? That’s impossible.”

“Chase Manning doesn’t seem to think so. Can you imagine what it would do to my practice if the newspaper gets a hold of such bullshit? I’d be ruined.”

“I don’t understand where this is coming from. What could possibly have given him the idea you had anything to do with something that happened ten years ago?”

Wade dropped onto the yellow floral loveseat. “He doesn’t buy that it was a coincidence that I was in the ER when she was brought in.” He cradled his head in his hands briefly before looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Hell, for Kylie, it was pure
luck
that I was there. Those idiots had no clue what they were dealing with.”

Jane eased down next to him on the loveseat. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Wade. He can’t prove anything.”

“You said your brother didn’t do anything wrong and look what’s happening to him. If my name gets dragged through the news like his has, I’m fucked.” He lowered his head and rubbed at his eyes. “Goddammit, Jane.”

She massaged his back with one hand, trying to figure out how to diplomatically steer him back to the thing that had alarmed her initially. “You mentioned that Kylie is going to find out about us.”

Wade sighed. “Manning wanted to know where I was this morning.”

She stopped caressing him, her whole body flashing cold. “And you told him?”

“What was I supposed to do? Lie to a cop?”

“That was an option, yes.” She removed her hand from his back and settled it in her lap, no longer so interested in soothing him. The idiot had screwed them both.

“Right,” he said sarcastically, “and then when I get busted for that, I look guilty on the other stuff. Forget it. I told him the truth. And, frankly, if we’d been honest with Kylie from the start, it wouldn’t be such a big deal now.”

Maybe not to him. But Jane wasn’t keen on the idea of owning up to making a move on Kylie’s ex. She already had enough issues with her hard-headed, emotionally stunted sister.

Beside her, Wade’s shoulders seemed to slump even more. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

Wonderful, she thought. His body language told her everything she needed to know: He was about to blow a great big puff at the one joker holding up her house of cards.

He squared his shoulders, as though bracing himself. “I stopped by to check on Kylie.”

Jane sat back and closed her eyes. She already knew where this was going, and she wanted to smack him upside the head. He was so bloody weak, so bloody in love with a woman who’d never wanted him, while the woman who did love him was sitting right here.

He hurried on. “I know you told me she was doing okay, with everything, but I wanted to see for myself. This has all got to be so hard on her.”

Jane stayed silent, her jaw aching from being clenched. He was going to break her heart no matter what she said or did, so she simply sat there and let him do it at his own pace.

He took a ragged breath and held it for a moment. “I kissed her.”

As much as Jane had thought she’d prepared herself, it still hurt. Like someone had taken a tennis racket and slammed its edge square against her chest. Pushing up from the loveseat, she paced away. At the window, she stared outside, vaguely noting the romantic flicker of the faux-gas lamp in her front yard.

She’d thought he might be the one. He made her stomach flutter, her head go light. He was
supposed
to be the one. Yet, during all the times he’d been naked and sweating with her, he’d no doubt been thinking about her sister. She pressed a hand to her belly, hoping to suppress the nausea that churned inside. It would never end. After all this time, all these years, she would never escape her sister’s shadow. She would always be a poor substitute for the real thing.

“Please say something,” Wade whispered.

“Do you love her?” she asked, so softly that maybe he couldn’t hear her.

He didn’t respond for a long moment, and she hoped to God he hadn’t heard her. That would be easier than this awful, telling hesitation.

“Jane—”

She turned to face him, resigned now, knowing what needed to be done. “I’d like you to leave.”

His eyes widened and he brought his hands up to reach for her, but when she flinched back, he dropped them. “Jane, please.”

She walked to the door on stiff, shaky legs and opened it.

Wade vigorously shook his head. “Jane, no, we need to talk about this.”

“I’m done talking.” I’m done with
you
, she silently added.

“Just because I kissed her? Come on.”

“No, you idiot. Because you slept with me when you love
her
. Now get the hell out of my house.”

38

THE SCENT OF COFFEE TEASED KYLIE AWAKE, AND
she rolled over, surprised that she’d managed to sleep at all. On top of a steady rain outside her bedroom window, she heard the shower come on and imagined Chase with water streaming in rivulets over all the angles and valleys and ridges of his beautifully sculpted chest. Imagined what it would be like to slip into the shower with him and . . .

Stop it
.

Sitting up, she pulled the hair back from her face with one hand and peered at the clock on the bedside table: 7:34 A.M. She’d managed to sleep like the dead for a full eight hours.

Now that she wasn’t absolutely exhausted, all the emotions she’d kept at bay started filtering in. She was raw, empty and frustrated. All thanks to Chase. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Everyone else did, and everything worked out just fine. The past ten years, in fact, had been about as drama-free as watching an ice cube melt on a hot day. Slow and easy, and after it was gone, no mess. She liked it that way. People trapped in the rat race would trade everything they owned for such a stress-free existence.

Chase was just going to have to get over it and move on. Like she had. Well, okay, like she
planned
to. As soon as Quinn was cleared. As soon as the tennis center got back on track. As soon as the case closed and she didn’t have to deal with Chase in her face every three seconds, harping on her about passion and living and going through the motions. She
liked
the motions, damn it. Consistent and safe and predictable. Everyone should be so lucky.

Besides, she needed to focus on Quinn right now. She needed to find a way, some way, to help prove he didn’t take a baseball bat to her knee. She didn’t have time to deal with Chase and his demands. Quinn was in crisis. Quinn had to be her focus. And, by God, he
would
be.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white blouse, she secured her hair in a tight, smooth ponytail before going in search of coffee.

In the kitchen, she found coffee already made and began pouring a cup when she heard Chase approach from the hall. She almost expected him to come up behind her, to feel his hands settle on her shoulders, stroke down her arms. When he didn’t touch her, or brush against her, she had to swallow against the returning depression. She had to remind herself that she didn’t want that anyway. Being with him would make her weak, and she refused to be weak.

“Good morning,” he said.

She opened her mouth to echo the greeting, but words failed her when she turned and found him standing close behind her, still damp from his shower . . . and gorgeously shirtless. Naked to the waist, with the top button of his jeans undone, he was all sharply honed muscles and soft, baby-fine hair. Undeniably, magnificently masculine. She had to concentrate to keep from leaning forward to nuzzle her nose against the ridged planes of his torso.