Mr. Perfect (Page 67)

"Not yet. Let the techs do their job first, maybe find something that will give us a clue who this bastard is."

"You went in – "

"And I was careful not to disturb anything," he said, exasperated. "Come on, let’s sit down. The guys will be here in a minute."

She remembered that she had thrown the phone aside. She picked it up and handed it to him. "Nine-one-one is still on the line."

He put it to his ear, but kept a firm grip on her while he succinctly outlined the situation and said the house was clear, then disconnected. He put both arms around Jaine – and BooBoo – and held her close.

"Where did you find BooBoo?"

"He was hiding under that shelf thing in the hallway." She stroked the cat’s head, so grateful he was all right that she almost cried again. Her mom would never forgive her if anything happened to BooBoo.

"Do you think it was him?" she asked Sam, her voice low. He was silent for a moment. The sirens were much closer now, the sound growing louder and louder in the still night air. As two cars turned the corner onto their street, Sam said, "I can’t afford not to think it."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lights were coming on up and down the street, heads poking out of doors, as Sam and Jaine went to meet the patrolmen. "Detective Donovan," said one of the patrolmen, grinning. "So you’re the half-naked man we were told not to shoot."

Sam scowled down at Jaine. She cuddled BooBoo closer. "You’re carrying a pistol," she explained. "I didn’t want them to shoot you by mistake."

Sadie and George Kulavich came down their sidewalk and stood peering at the flashing lights. They were both wearing robes over their nightclothes; Mr. Kulavich wore bedroom slippers, but Mrs. Kulavich had put on rain boots. Mrs. Kulavich craned her neck, then came closer. Across the street, Jaine could see Mrs. Holland come out her front door.

Sam heaved a sigh. "I checked the house," he said to the patrolmen. "It’s been trashed, but no one is in there. You guys take over while I go put on a shirt."

Mrs. Kulavich had edged close enough to hear him. She beamed at him. "Don’t bother on my account," she said. "Sadie!" Mr. Kulavich said in rebuke.

"Oh, hush, George! I’m old, not dead!"

"I’ll remind you of that the next time I want to watch the Playboy Channel," he growled.

Sam coughed and strode into his house, keeping his pistol held low against his leg so their bright-eyed old neighbors wouldn’t spot it and get too excited.

Jaine became aware of the speculation in the neighbors’ eyes as they studied her. She remembered that she hadn’t put on her bra, and her silk shirt probably made that fairly obvious. She didn’t look down to check, just kept BooBoo cradled to her chest. She didn’t reach up to check her hair, either, because she knew it was a mess. The rain had wet it, then she had wallowed in bed with Sam for a couple of hours; it was probably sticking out in spikes. Given Sam’s state of undress… well. She imagined the conclusion they were jumping to was pretty damn accurate.

Thinking about the neighbors was easier than thinking about her house.

After her first horrifying glimpse of the kitchen, she didn’t know if she wanted to see the rest of the house. This, coming so soon after the trauma of Marci’s death, was almost more than she could bear, so she concentrated on other things, such as the way Mrs. Kulavich winked at her when Sam came out of the house wearing a neat oxford shirt with the tails tucked into his jeans and his badge clipped to his belt. She wondered if he had put on underwear.

"Are you official?" she asked, eyeing the badge. "Might as well be. I’m on the scene, and we’re all on call after eleven."

She gaped at him. "After elev – what time is it, anyway?"

"Almost midnight."

"Poor BooBoo," she said in horror. "Could you try to find some of his food and let me have a can, so I can feed him?"

Sam looked down at her, the expression in his dark eyes telling her he knew she was avoiding facing the reality about her house, but also saying that he understood. "Okay, I’ll find something for him." He glanced over at Mrs. Kulavich. "Sadie, why don’t you and Eleanor take Jaine in my house and put on a pot of coffee, okay?"

"Of course, dear."

With Mrs. Kulavich and Mrs. Holland flanking her, Jaine went back inside Sam’s house and into the kitchen. She put BooBoo down and looked around with interest, since this was the first time she had seen much of the house. Before, they hadn’t bothered to turn on a light until she was getting dressed, so she had seen the bedroom and the living room, both of which were furnished with only the essentials. The kitchen, like hers, had a small table and four chairs occupying one end of it, and the stove was about twenty years old. The refrigerator, though, looked brand new, and so did the coffeemaker. Sam had his priorities.

Mrs. Kulavich efficiently prepared the coffee and turned on the machine. Jaine became aware of a pressing need. "Um… do you know where the bathroom is?"

"Of course, dear," said Mrs. Holland. "The big bathroom is the second door on the left in the hallway, and there’s a small bathroom opening off Sam’s bedroom."

Funny that they knew that when she hadn’t, but then it was difficult to explore much when one was flat of her back with a two-hundred-pound man on top of her. She chose the big bathroom, because it was closer, and carried her purse with her. Hurriedly she stripped off her clothes, used the facilities, then found a washcloth and washed away the evidence of four hours of sex. She used his deodorant, combed her hair – which was indeed sticking out in spikes all over her head – and this time when she dressed she put on her bra.