Mr. Perfect Read online

  Shelley waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. We usually stay up late while the kids are out of school.”

  “What about the reporters?” T.J. asked. “We won’t have any peace if they’re still swarming the place.”

  “I doubt they would hang around forever,” Sam said. “They’d like an interview, yeah, but they can get statements from other people. More than likely, since you weren’t at home today, they’ll call instead of camping out in your yard.”

  “Then I would like to go home,” T.J. said, standing. She hugged Shelley. “Thanks a million. You were a lifesaver today.”

  Shelley returned the hug. “Any time. Come back tomorrow, if you don’t go to work. Whatever you do, don’t stay home alone!”

  “Thanks. I may take you up on it, but… I think I’ll go to work tomorrow. Getting back into the routine will help take my mind off things.”

  Jaine said, “I think Sam and I will go home, too. He looks as exhausted as I feel.”

  “Are you going to work tomorrow?” T.J. asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll call and let you know.”

  “Trilby,” T.J. called, and the dog jumped up, bright eyes sparkling and her entire body wagging in enthusiasm. “C’mon, girl, let’s go home.”

  Trilby barked and scampered around T.J.’s legs. Galan leaned down to pet her, and she licked his hand. “Where’s your leash?” he asked, and she dashed off to find it. Usually the dog’s antics could make T.J. laugh, but tonight she couldn’t manage even a smile.

  On the drive home, T.J. sat staring out the window. “You didn’t have to leave work early,” she said. “I’m fine.”

  “I wanted to be with you,” he repeated, and drew a deep breath. He would prefer to have this talk once they were home, where he could put his arms around her, but maybe now was the best time. At least she couldn’t walk away. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  She didn’t glance at him. “For what?”

  “For being an asshole; for being a stupid asshole. I love you more than anything or anyone else on earth, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

  “What about your girlfriend?” She made the word sound so immature, as if he were a horny teenager who couldn’t see past the moment.

  He winced. “I know you don’t believe me, but I swear I haven’t been that stupid.”

  “Exactly how stupid have you been?”

  She had never let him get away with anything, he remembered. Even in high school, T.J. would pin him to the wall if he tried to evade telling her whatever she wanted to know.

  Keeping his eyes on the road, because he was afraid to look at her, he said, “Flirting stupid. And kissing stupid. But no more than that. Not ever.”

  “Not even groping?” Her tone said she didn’t believe him.

  “Not ever,” he repeated firmly. “I … Damn it, T.J., it didn’t feel right, and I don’t mean anything physical. She wasn’t you. I don’t know; maybe I let my ego get the best of me, because I kind of liked the thrill, but it was wrong and I knew it.”

  “Who exactly is ‘she’?” T.J. asked.

  Saying her name took every ounce of courage he had, because putting an actual name to the woman personalized it, made it real. “Xandrea Conaway.”

  “Have I met her?”

  Galan shook his head, then realized she still wasn’t looking at him. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Xandrea,” she repeated. “She sounds like a mixed drink.”

  He knew better than to say anything the least bit nice about Xandrea. Instead he said, “I do love you. Yesterday when you found out about Luna and I realized—” His voice cracked. He had to swallow before he could continue. “When I realized you’re in danger, it was like a slap in the face.”

  “Being hunted by a psycho killer is kind of an attention getter,” she said dryly.

  “Yeah.” He decided to go for broke and asked, “Will you give me another chance?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and his heart sank. “I told you I wouldn’t be hasty or do anything drastic, and I won’t. My attention is a little splintered right now, so I think we should just shelve this discussion for a while.”

  Okay, he thought. That was a swing and a miss, but he hadn’t struck out yet.

  “May I sleep with you?”

  “You mean have sex?”

  “No. I mean sleep with you. In our bed. I’d like to make love with you, too, but if you won’t do that, will you at least let me sleep with you?”

  She thought about it for so long that he began to think he’d swung at and missed another ball. Finally she said, “Okay.”

  He heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn’t brimming over with enthusiasm, but she wasn’t kicking him out, either. It was a chance. They had a lot of years together, and that was holding them together when couples without much of a history might already have called it quits. He couldn’t expect to undo in one night the accumulated damage he had wrought over the past two years.

  But she had hung in there with him, so he wasn’t going to quit now, no matter how surly she got, or how long it took him to make her believe he loved her. The most important thing was keeping her alive, even if she walked out on him afterward. He didn’t know if he could stand losing her, but he knew he sure as hell couldn’t stand burying her.

  “I’m so tired,” Jaine said. “You must be exhausted.”

  “I’ve been running on coffee all day long,” Sam replied. “The jolt is wearing off, though. Want to make it an early night?”

  She yawned. “I don’t think I have a choice. I doubt I could stay awake if I tried.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’ve had a splitting headache all day, and nothing I’ve taken has been able to touch it.”

  “Damn,” he said mildly. “We aren’t even married yet, and already you’re having headaches.”

  That earned a faint smile.

  “Did Shelley whip out a giant cucumber today?”

  The smile grew a little, though it was tinged with sadness. “Yeah. Every time we closed our eyes, she plastered us with cucumber slices. I don’t know if they work, but they feel good.” She paused. “Did you make any progress today?”

  He grunted in disgust. “All I’ve done is tread water. The computer didn’t turn up anything, so Bernsen and I have been going over the files to see if we missed something. Do you remember any harassment complaints, or any trouble between two employees?”

  “I remember when Sada Whited caught her husband fooling around with Emily Hearst and they had a brawl in the parking lot, but I doubt that’s what you’re looking for.” She yawned again. “Harassment complaints, huh? I can’t remember any. Bennett Trotter probably should have a sexual harassment complaint filed against him every day, but I don’t think anyone has. And he has dark hair.”

  “We haven’t ruled out brunettes. We haven’t ruled out anyone. Marci could have picked up that blond hair from someone she brushed against in the grocery store. Tell me more about Bennett Trotter.”

  “He’s a jerk, always making comments that he thinks are sexy, but he’s the only one who thinks they are. You know the type.”

  He did. He wondered if Bennett Trotter could provide proof of his whereabouts on the two days in question.

  “There are several people whom no one likes,” Jaine continued. “My boss, Ashford deWynter, is one. He was in a real snit over the List, until the company decided to go with the free publicity, then he mellowed out.”

  Sam added Ashford deWynter to his mental list. “Anyone else?”

  “I don’t know everyone. Let’s see. No one likes Leah Street, but I don’t guess she counts.”

  The name was familiar. It took him only a second to place it. “She’s the drama queen.”

  “And a pain in the rear. I’m glad she’s not in my department. T.J. has to put up with her every day.”

  “Anyone else besides Trotter and deWynter?”

  “No one that sticks out. I remember a guy named C