Count to Ten (27 page)

“So do I.” Dana’s husband, Ethan, wandered into the kitchen and kissed the back of her neck. “We could have some fun with that. Gives me ideas.”

Dana smacked him playfully. “You don’t need any new ideas.” She pulled his head down for a kiss and Mia felt the pang she always felt when she saw them together. Except tonight, it wasn’t the same. It was sharper, somehow. Darker. Normally the pang was happiness for Dana and sometimes wistful longing for herself.

But tonight it was jealousy and... resentment. Troubled at herself, she cleared her throat. “Guys? For God’s sake, do you
mind
already?”

Ethan was the first to pull away, looking puzzled at her harsh tone. “Sorry, Mia. I’ll take care of overseeing homework tonight, honey. You two can talk.” Tenderly he ran the back of his fingertips over Dana’s face before he left the room, and Mia couldn’t block out the sensation of Reed Solliday’s thumb brushing against her jaw.

She’d run tonight. She’d gotten scared and run like a little girl. Wheaton’s phone call was just an excuse to be angry with him. It was easier than dealing with what she’d felt when he touched her face. He’d done it last night as well. She’d pulled away then, too.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Dana said quietly.

Mia slid a nickel across the table and Dana smiled. “It’s a quarter now,” Dana said. “Inflation. But I’ll just put it on your tab. Go ahead. Talk to me.”

“I’m a stupid idiot.”

“Okay.”

Mia scowled. “You’re not earning your quarter.”

Dana’s laugh soothed. “Point me in the right direction, Mia. I’m not psychic.” She sobered. “I’ll make it easier for you. A, it’s the woman you think is your half sister. B, you’re ripped up because two people are dead and you can’t bring them back to life because you’re not God. C, you were almost killed last night, which you haven’t mentioned once by the way, or D, Reed Solliday.”

“How about E, all of the above?”

“Mia.”

Mia sighed. “E, all of the above, but at this moment mostly D?”

“Is he being mean to you?” Dana asked, as if she were comforting a five-year-old.

She opened her mouth to say something snide, but her repository of comebacks was suddenly empty. “No, he’s been a perfect gentleman. He opens doors, pulls out chairs, holds umbrellas over my head.”

“He should be shot,” Dana drawled in a deadpan voice.

“I’m serious, Dana.”

“I know, honey. So besides making you feel awkward by treating you with the respect you deserve, what else does he do?”

“Ooh, you’re good.”

“Thousands agree. Stop stalling.”

“Last night he followed me to the prison. I went to tell Kelsey about Liam and
her.
”

“That’s interesting. So how is Kelsey?”

“Stubborn as ever about the parole board. And she knew about Liam and his mother, but not the woman. Oh, and she said you could keep your crabs.”

Dana’s lips twitched. “I’m not touchin’ that with a ten-foot pole. Okay, time-out’s over. He’s handsome, kind, and I’m betting he’s interested and you’re scared.”

All those years as a social worker had honed Dana’s observation skills. All the years as Mia’s best friend had sharpened them to a razor edge. “Essentially, yes.”

Dana leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, has he kissed you yet?”

A laugh bubbled up. “No.” She sighed. “But it’s headed that way.”

“And?”

“And... I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Neither was I.”

“That’s different.”

Dana lifted a brow. “How?”

“You love Ethan. You
married
him.” And for Dana, that had been a huge step.

“At first I only planned to use him for sex and cut him loose when I was done.”

Mia blinked. That one she hadn’t heard before. “Oh?”

“But I didn’t get done with him. I’m still not done. Don’t think I’ll ever be done. He’s just too good in bed. All those muscles and all that energy...” She fanned her face.

Mia found herself tightening her thighs against the throbbing between her legs. “Not fair. You know how long it’s been since I’ve had any and you’re just rubbing it in.”

Dana laughed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. Oh, Mia.” Her smile became sad. “Look at yourself. You’re thirty-four years old and all you have is work. You go home to a dark, cold apartment and an empty bed. You wake up the same way. Your life is passing and you’re just watching the days go by.”

Mia swallowed hard, but the lump still closed her throat. “Not fair,” she whispered.

“I’m tired of being fair,” Dana whispered back. “I’m tired of watching you throw your life away because you don’t think you deserve any better. Dammit, your father’s dead, Mia. Kelsey’s in jail and your mother... God only knows about her. But you, you I know. You I care about. And if you think it’s not fair to live like you do, you should be the one to watch you do it. It breaks my heart, Mia.” Dana’s voice broke. “And
that’s
not fair.”

Because her own heart ached, Mia lifted her chin and dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Dana slapped the table. “Goddammit, Mia, yank that stick out of your ass and listen to me. You deserve a life. Don’t tell me you don’t want that.” She spread her arms wide. “That you don’t want this. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this.”

Mia looked around the kitchen, at the cheerful colors, the sink filled with dishes, the refrigerator covered with the artwork done by small hands. And she wanted it, so fiercely it stole her breath. “Yes,” she hissed. “I want it.”

“Then take it.” Dana leaned forward, her eyes turbulent. “Find someone and take it.”

“I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“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 if I’ll 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 would cash 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.”