Trust Me (16 page)

"Did you approach Oliver about what happened before you went to court?"

"I did. I told him he must not have a heart if he could hurt such an innocent creature."

"How did he respond?"

"Shocked. Dismayed. Pretended it wasn't him. But I could tell that deep down he was happy about the misery he'd caused me."

That reminded Skye of how Burke had behaved when she'd accused him of attacking her.

"He's a convincing liar, I have to hand him that," Markum added.

"When was the last time you saw Oliver?"

"I don't know.... A few days before they arrested him, I guess. I wanted to attend some of the trial, but my wife teaches music in Italy once a 100

year, and we were in Europe. I was glad when I heard the outcome, though.

It was as if Bonnie got a little justice that day, too."

"Have you ever met Oliver's brother?"

"A few times. Every once in a while, Noah and his wife would visit next door. They were pleasant enough. Especially Wendy, Noah's wife.

Why?"

"Just curious about his family situation. How did Oliver treat his daughter?"

"Hard to tell. She wasn't much more than a toddler then and he worked a lot. We saw her with Jane more often than with him."

"Did he ever come and go late at night?" Skye knew David would've asked every neighbor this question already, back when he was building a case against Burke, back when he'd probably heard about the dog. But she wanted to hear Mr. Markum's answer for herself.

"Not by car. I would've noticed. And the computer at the gatehouse keeps track of every time the gate's opened."

"So you think he left on foot?"

"Or bicycle. He fancied himself quite a cyclist. Used to shave his legs and all that. I never did understand why. I can't imagine it'd really help with wind shear, but he took it quite seriously. Rode to work almost every day."

"Even in the winter?"

"Even in the winter. Used a battery-powered night-light that was nearly as powerful as a car's headlights."

Skye remembered David saying Burke had spent a lot of time on the bike trail. They didn't know how he'd stalked her, or how he'd gotten into her house, but during the trial the district attorney had suggested he used a bike.

A bike provided a quiet mode of transportation, freedom of movement and an excuse to be gone for long periods of time--alone. The other attacks had happened near the bike trail, too.

"Did you like his wife?"

"She wasn't the nicest person in the world. Sort of pretentious, if you ask me. But she was sure singing a different tune once Oliver went to prison.

Then I had to feel sorry for her, especially when she lost the house. She didn't get much for his practice after all that bad publicity."

Skye knew he'd feel even worse for Jane Burke if he saw where she was living now. "I'm convinced Oliver is responsible for murdering three other women, women he met before he attacked me."

He whistled. "Is that why you're here?"

"Partly. If you remember anything else, will you contact me?"

He accepted the card she handed him. "Definitely."

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"Thanks." She walked three houses down to the Simmons residence, which sat at the top of a small hill. There, she heard a similar story about how a conflict over some trees had provoked Oliver into ruining their front lawn. Like Markum, they had more suspicion than proof, though, and had lost their suit.

On her way to the car, Skye stopped to stare at the house where Oliver and his family had been living when he'd tried to rape her. It looked just as normal as every other house on the block, better than most people's version of normal. Back then he'd been part of a privileged elite and had lived behind a gate by choice.

On a sudden impulse, Skye approached the house. A van sat in the front drive, and there were toys scattered all around--a football, a trike, some skates. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to achieve by introducing herself to the current owners. Chances were that they didn't even know the Burkes. And yet this home retained a certain mystique for her. Oliver had not only lived here, he'd prided himself on his ability to afford such a lovely place, had allegedly killed his neighbor's dog over an RV that blocked other people's view of it.

Maybe, in this house that meant so much to him, he'd left something of himself behind.

David sat across from Lynnette in the same corner where they'd had a romantic dinner two years ago. He suspected she'd requested this particular booth. She was also wearing his favorite dress. Both of which made him inexplicably uncomfortable. He knew his son needed him, knew Lynnette needed him, too. He also knew that the best way he could be there for them both was to keep the family together. But the prospect of returning to the same situation was becoming more and more difficult to face.

"How was work?" he asked.

"Fine."

He loosened his tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt. "You look like you're feeling better today."

"I have good days and bad days. This is a good day." She took a sip of the ice water the waitress had brought before they'd ordered and studied him.

"What?" he said, arching his eyebrows at the intense scrutiny.

Her gaze dropped to her glass, which she began to turn around and around on the table. "I had sex with my date the other night."

He hadn't asked because he didn't want to acknowledge his own ambivalence. "And?"

"I didn't like it." She shook her head, still staring at her glass. "It was..

.meaningless. Empty."

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"I'm sorry."

Her eyes lifted. "You wish it had been better?"

"I'm sorry you're so miserable. How well did you know him?"

"Not well enough. It was a desperate attempt to make my life feel real again. That was all." She scratched her forehead in a gesture that revealed frustration at the same time it suggested she was thoughtfully selecting her next words. "I wanted it to be you every second, David, which made me realize something."

He drank some of his own water, wishing he could put her on pause until he could overcome his growing reluctance. "What's that?"

"I'm not over you. I don't want to call it quits in spite of everything we've been through."

David took a deep breath. At least her confession proved she was willing to work on their relationship. That was positive, wasn't it? But it brought him no relief. It only made the metaphorical handcuffs chafe that much more: Till death do us part. "So you're ready to try again?"

"Are you?" she asked hopefully.

Thinking of Jeremy, he wanted to jump at the chance. He'd promised it often enough. He wanted to make Lynnette happy, too. She'd been young, just twenty-one, when he promised her forever. With her improved attitude, maybe they could make it work. But when he thought of Skye, he longed to put as much emotional distance as possible between him and his ex-wife, regardless of her condition. How selfish was that? "It's worth considering."

She sat back, obviously shocked by his less than enthusiastic response. He was the one who'd decided to move out, both times, but all the complaints had come from her. He wasn't giving enough to the relationship.

She deserved more than she was getting. He didn't love her anymore.

He feared she was right about the third one....

"Worth considering?" she echoed.

The waitress refilled their glasses and told them their meals would be out in a minute. David waited until they were alone again to respond. "We have to do things differently so it'll work this time, Lynn."

"Not a lot," she said. "It's your job. If you'd find something else, we'd be fine."

His job? "And what would you have me do?"

"Become a P.I. Lots of cops become private investigators. You'd make more money, set your own hours, have less stress."

"How would my being a P.I. help us?"

"Are you kidding?" Her expression grew intense. "It'd keep you from being called out in the middle of the night to some gruesome murder scene, 103

for one thing. There's going to come a time when I might need you to be home all night. And maybe, if you were working in a better environment, you'd be around the house more often and wouldn't get so consumed with your job."

He had a feeling Lynnette would be jealous of any pursuit that took his attention away from her. But his cell phone rang before he could say so.

Using the distraction to give him a few extra seconds to formulate a response that might avoid starting an argument, he checked the caller ID--and promptly put the phone back in his pocket. It was Skye. He didn't want to talk to her in front of Lynnette, and since she was calling from The Last Stand, there'd be numerous people around her, so he was sure she was okay.

At least for now.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" she asked.

"No."

Her eyes narrowed. "If it was work-related you would've taken the call."

Maybe, maybe not. But she was resentful enough to make that generalization. In his opinion, it was her inflexibility that had destroyed their marriage, not his job. "It can wait."

For a moment, David thought his refusal to explain would put an end to their peace-making lunch. But she rallied.

"So what do you say? Are you willing to make a few changes? Try again?"

A few changes made it sound as if she wasn't asking for much of a sacrifice. But giving up his position on the force could hardly be classified as minor.

"You're always telling me you want to get back together," she went on. "That you want to be a family for Jeremy."

It had nothing to do with want. "I haven't forgotten."

"But you don't want that badly enough to do something else for a living?"

Police work wasn't just a job to him. It was a calling. She didn't understand. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was why she was so jealous of his commitment to the force. "I like what I do, Lynn. I don't see what you're suggesting as a viable solution. But.. .give me a while to think about it."

He'd address it later. Maybe he could beat his stubborn resistance into submission. Then moving back in with her wouldn't seem like such a miserable option.

"How long?" she asked.

When his phone rang again, she rolled her eyes and motioned for him 104

to take the call.

He didn't apologize, despite her obvious annoyance. He was a detective; he needed to be available at all times. And the number on his caller ID indicated it was the station. "Excuse me."

"And you wonder why I hate your job," she grumbled under her breath.

He knew he hadn't managed to bury his irritation as deeply as he'd intended when he heard the impatience in his voice. "That doesn't mean I'm willing to let you choose my occupation."

Her mouth opened, but he answered his phone before she could respond. "Willis here."

"Detective, this is Sergeant Burns."

"Yes?"

"I just ran across a note that says we're supposed to notify you immediately if anything comes in on Skye Kellerman or The Last Stand."

David straightened in his seat. "That's true."

"Ms. Kellerman is looking for you. I thought you might like to know."

"Did she sound upset?"

"No."

The waitress came with Lynnette's pasta and his steak sandwich as he brought the call to a close.

"Okay, I'll take care of it." When he hung up, he could tell from the expression on Lynnette's face that he'd had the volume turned up too high.

Although he'd held the phone pressed tight to his ear, she'd overheard Officer Burns relay his message.

"Is that who called you a minute ago?" she asked. "Skye Kellerman?"

Lynnette didn't know how he felt about Skye, but she suspected something was going on. She still asked about Skye periodically, even though it had been three years since the investigation. She's pretty, don't you think?...So how's that woman who was attacked by the dentist? Do you ever talk to her?...I saw there was another article about The Last Stand in the paper today....

"Her case is heating up again." He took a bite of his sandwich, but Lynnette didn't start on her meal.

"How could it be heating up again, David? The trial's been over for three years." Her voice dropped. "Unless there's something I don't know about."

Ignoring the not-so-subtle inflection in her voice, he swallowed his food. "Burke's getting out of prison tomorrow. If Skye can help me tie him to those murders near the American River, it might save other women's 105

lives. There's also a good chance he could come after her again. She testified against him, as you know."

Lynnette folded her arms. "If the situation was that dire, why didn't you take her call?"

"He's not out yet."

"But I'll bet you would've been more than happy to hear from her if I wasn't here." Laughing bitterly, she picked up her purse.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

David watched her walk out on him. Then he pushed a thumb and finger against his closed eyelids. What was he going to do with his personal life? He couldn't get too angry with Lynnette. She was only reacting to the knowledge that he didn't feel what she wanted him to feel. And she still hadn't fully adjusted to the disease that was affecting her central nervous system.

"Is your lady friend coming back?" the waitress asked.

Lowering his hand, he managed a smile. "No, you can box up her meal, if you don't mind."

"No problem." Her own smile was a bit too bright for mere courtesy.

He recognized the romantic interest. But he didn't return it. No one could tempt him away from Lynnette and Jeremy.

Except Skye.

After finishing his own meal, he responded to the message Sergeant Burns said Skye had left at the station.

"We have a problem," Skye said as soon as David had her on the line.

They had more than one. Not the least of which was the fact that he was looking forward to taking her to the fund-raiser on Saturday, despite what had just happened with Lynnette. That might even be why their lunch had gone so badly.

"You've received another threatening call?"