“What you see is what you get? Is that it?”
“Basically.”
“And you don’t think you can be fooled? You don’t think a slick sociopath can put a mask on for the world, one no one sees beyond?”
“No one?” She shook her head. “Perhaps not the lay-person. Casual friends, acquaintances, co-workers. Usually, people like family, those who are really close to the person, they know something’s terribly wrong, but they deny it. They accept that person’s behavior as different maybe, but okay. Not dangerous.”
“Like the serial killer who liked to kill and mutilate animals as a child.”
“Exactly. The family thinks it’s weird, but they call it a stage and shrug it off. But fool a trained mental health professional?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not if they have time to really observe them.”
“That’s where our opinions differ, big-time, Dr. Bennett. A slick criminal, they can wrap you psych-nerds around their little fingers. You don’t have a chance. I see it every day.”
“Psych-nerds?” She tilted her head, more amused than annoyed. “Every day?”
“That’s right.” He finished his wine. “They get you guys all involved in if their mommies put them on the bottle too soon or potty-trained them before they were ready. You argue that their fathers were cold and their mother’s cruel. When you do, you miss the facts, lady. They’re criminals. They hurt somebody. They should pay.”
“First off, I don’t think our opinions differ just there, Detective Raphael.” She brought her wine to her lips, a smile tugging at her mouth. “You’re wrong, by the way.”
He laughed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ll bet you think criminals can be changed, too. I bet you think you can save them.”
“I think they can change, yes. Save’s too judgmental a term for me.”
“Too judgmental?” He laughed again, this time without amusement. He leaned forward and the front legs of his chair hit the floor. He lowered his voice. “If you saw the shit I see, day in and out, you wouldn’t say that. Some people are bad, Andie. Period. The have no conscience. They hurt others without remorse. Kill without provocation. They are totally selfish, amoral beings. If that makes me judgmental, so be it.”
Silence fell between them. He gazed at her, his expression unreadable. She realized what it must be like to be a suspect, sitting across the interrogation table from him, having to look into those eyes, eyes that seemed to see all the way inside her.
She wondered what he saw when he looked into her eyes. She wondered if he saw how attractive she found him, how intriguing. She shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable, feeling exposed.
“What about Mr. X?” he asked suddenly. “Could you have changed him?”
At the mention of Mr. X, Andie thought of David Sadler. Of his plea for help.
“I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulders. “How could I? But I’ve always wondered about both of them. Particularly her. If Mrs. X had sought treatment, would she be alive today?”
“It really bugs me that we never solved that case. That guy’s a killer. And he’s still out there.” Nick looked away, then back at her, pinning her with his intense brown gaze. “I want to get him, Andie. I’m going to get him someday, I know it. He’s going to do it again, he can’t help himself. And when he does, he’s mine.”
Just then, Mara burst through the kitchen doors. At the sound, Andie jumped, startled. They both swung in her direction. She carried a small pizza. Sam was beside her with a larger one.
“Mine has cherries!” Mara cried, skipping toward them. “And pineapple, too!”
From that point on, adult conversation ceased and pandemonium reigned. Mara dug into her candied pizza, eating more than Andie would have thought a six-year-old could. She insisted her dad and Andie try a bite, and Andie had to admit it was awful.
At one point the child had tomato sauce from her chin to her nose, and better situated to help out, Andie had wet her napkin in her glass of water and wiped the worst of it from her face. As she drew away, she noticed a couple at the next table looking at the three of them.
They caught Andie’s eye. “Your little girl is adorable,” the woman said. “How old is she?”
Nick swung to face them. “Six.”
The man put an arm around his wife and smiled. “We’re expecting our first.”
“Congratulations,” Andie murmured, a lump forming in her throat.
The couple thought she, Nick and Mara were a family. They thought that she was Mara’s mother, and that Nick was her husband.
The lump became a boulder, and she struggled to breathe around it. What would it be like to be a wife and mother? she wondered, casting a surreptitious glance at Nick, then Mara. What would it be like to be part of a family?
Andie felt a sort of pinch, deep in her gut. A twinge of longing, she realized with a sense of shock. An ache for motherhood, for love and commitment, things she had never longed for.
Dear God, what was wrong with her?
Her shock turned to a kind of wonder, a warm, fuzzy sensation.
“You’re not eating,” Nick said to her. “Not hungry?”
She looked down at her plate and realized she hadn’t even finished her first piece of pizza. She looked at Nick, her cheeks warm. “I’m starving,” she said, and with an almost giddy laugh, dug in.
A
ndie and Nick talked until the restaurant was empty save for Tony, Bella and a few of the kitchen staff. They talked about his marriage, her decision to become a psychologist and some of the strange situations she had encountered along the way. They talked about his job and her friendship with Raven, Julie’s troubles and a host of Mara’s firsts.
Hours before, Mara had crawled onto Nick’s lap and fallen asleep. She fit snugly onto her father’s lap, and while they talked, he rocked slightly and stroked the child’s hair.
When it became apparent that they were keeping Tony and Bella from being able to go home, they said their goodnights and headed outside. The night was cool, the sky a velvety, star-studded black.
Andie walked with Nick to his car. His arms filled with Mara, she unlocked the door for him, then helped him get the child tucked into her seat with the buckle fitted around her. Mara moaned a little when Nick made the transfer, then turned her face to the seat and fell back to sleep.
“She’s getting too big for me to keep doing that.” He shook his arm and flexed his fingers, working to get circulation back. “My arm’s asleep.”
“Has she always been that way? Able to just fall asleep anywhere?”
“Yup. Restaurants, movies, shopping carts. Once, she fell asleep at a bowling alley, the sound of pins exploding all around. When she’s tired, she sleeps.” He glanced up at the sky, then back at her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
She smiled. “It’s right here.”
“Humor me, okay? I’m old-fashioned.”
She laughed and shook her head. “All right.”
He walked her around to the driver side of her car. “I had a nice time, Andie.”
“I did, too, Nick. Thank you.” She lifted her gaze to his, realizing that she wanted him to kiss her. Wanted it rather desperately.
She told herself to get a grip. The last thing she needed in her life was a macho cop with a ready-made family. A cop who wasn’t even divorced. One who wasn’t even
that
separated.
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his blue jeans. “You’ll be okay? Going home, I mean?”
“Fine.” She swallowed hard, going home the last thing on her mind.
“If anything happens, anything at all, call me.”
“I will.”
“You have my card?”
“I do.”
He lowered his eyes to her mouth. Her breath quickened. Even as she called herself an idiot, even as a dozen different warnings rang in her head, she lifted her face slightly to his.
He leaned toward her. She tilted her face a fraction more toward his; her eyes fluttered shut. For one agonizing, wonderful, terrifying moment, she waited. And wanted.
And then it was over. He reached around her and opened her car door, then took a step backward, away from her. A sound of frustration, of disappointment jumped to her lips. She swallowed it, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Thanks again,” she said, quickly, turning her back to him and climbing into her car. “See you around.”
She drove away, telling herself not to look back. Promising herself she wouldn’t. She had already embarrassed herself enough. Dear Lord, she had all but thrown herself at him. She couldn’t have told him what she wanted any more clearly if she had been wearing a sign.
She would not, absolutely would not, look in her rearview mirror to see if he was watching her drive off.
Instead, she was even more obvious—she looked over her shoulder.
He was already gone.
A
ndie pulled into her driveway, her head filled with confusing thoughts of Nick, his daughter and their evening together. She turned off the engine and leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
It had been a long time since she’d thought about a man in the way she had thought about Nick Raphael tonight, a long time since she’d thought about kisses and dates and one thing leading to another. Why now? she wondered, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Why him? A man who was neither really free nor right for her.
He hadn’t wanted to kiss her.
She acknowledged that a part of her was bitterly disappointed by that fact, another relieved. What if he had kissed her? Would one kiss have led to another evening together? Or nothing? Which would she have wanted more?
She opened her eyes and looked at her house. Light blazed from the windows, reminding her of the events earlier, reminding her how she had come to be with Nick Raphael at all that evening.
Her head filled with memories, of Mr. and Mrs. X, their music, of Mrs. X’s lifeless body dangling from the end of a rope.
Andie climbed out of the car and started up the walk, wishing she was anywhere but home, having to do anything but go into her house alone. She had been right about one thing—being with Nick had taken her mind off the past and her own fear.
But only temporarily.
She stepped onto the front porch and crossed to the door. She jiggled her keys nervously. She could call Raven from her cell phone, tell her what was going on and ask if she could sleep over. Or, she could call Julie. She would be home from work by now. That way, she could come back in the morning, when it was light. One of her friends could come with her.
Andie stiffened her spine, feeling like the chickenshit Raven used to accuse her of being. This was her home. She wasn’t about to be scared away by some pervert who had an ax to grind with her. Besides, it was perfectly safe. A police officer had checked every square inch for her and found no intruder lurking in a corner or closet; afterward, she had locked every door and window.
Before she could give herself the time to wimp out, she shoved her key into the lock, twisted it and swung the door open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.
She had left at least a dozen lights burning. She said a silent thank-you for that, turned and closed the door.
From behind her came the distinctive pop and hiss of a soda being opened.
Andie spun around, heart in her throat, scream on her lips.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Raven. It was only Raven.
Andie brought a hand to her throat. “My God… Raven…you nearly scared me to…death.”
Andie went to the sofa and sat down, her legs shaking so badly she wondered how she had gotten there. She dropped her head into her hands and breathed deeply, light-headed with fear.
“Geez, Andie, maybe you better slow down on the caffeine.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled to her lips. Andie lifted her gaze to Raven’s. “I didn’t see your car…. I didn’t expect…” She held her hands out. “Look at me, I’m shaking like a leaf.”
She drew her eyebrows together. She and Raven had exchanged keys to each other’s place so they could help each other out—to meet an inconveniently timed delivery, to check on things when they were out of town, for emergencies.
Emergencies.
She caught her breath, thinking of her mysterious visitor. Maybe he had visited her friends, too. “What’s wrong?”
“Besides being worried sick about you?” Raven crossed to the couch and glared accusingly down at her, Diet Coke can clutched in her hand. “I didn’t know where you were. I’ve been calling for hours. Where have you been?”
Andie took a deep breath and told her about the break-in, the music and hearing someone in the house, about going to the police station.
Raven set her soft drink on the coffee table, looking shaken. “My God, why didn’t you call me? I would have come right over.”
“I tried. I got your machine. I didn’t want to alarm you, so I hung up without leaving a message.”
“Well, you did alarm me. When I couldn’t reach you, I imagined all sorts of things. Jesus, Andie. I guess I wasn’t far off.” Raven searched her expression. “Are you all right?”
“Except for being pretty shook up, I’m fine.” Andie let out a long breath. “What’s going on, Raven? First the calls. Now this. Why is this happening?”
“And why only you?” Raven shook her head. “What did the police say?”
“Nick was concerned, but he didn’t have any answers. He sent a uniform over here to check out the house, make sure whoever broke in was gone.”
“Nick Raphael? That macho jerk?”
Andie jumped to his defense. “He’s not so bad. Besides, he’s a good cop.”
“Since when?” Raven made a face. “Look at his track record. He let Mrs. X’s killer get away.”
“You know as well as I do, he wasn’t in charge of that case.”
“Yeah, they took him off it ’cause he screwed up so bad.”
“He did not! The whole thing was politically motivated, and you know it. The press jumped on the story like rabid dogs, and the department needed a scapegoat.”
Raven narrowed her eyes. “Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not, I—” Andie choked on the denial, realizing suddenly that was exactly what she was doing. And why.
A smile tugged at her mouth, and she leaned toward her friend, anxious to tell her about her evening, about Nick Raphael, about her feelings. “You’re not going to believe this, Rave. We had dinner together. Nick and I.”
“Excuse me?” Raven arched her eyebrows, openly incredulous. “You had dinner with Mr. ‘Shrinks are the scum of the earth?’”
“Yes, can you believe it?” Andie laughed and grabbed her friend’s hands. “I had the best time. It was amazing, Rave. He’s amazing.”
She squeezed her friend’s fingers, feeling like a school-girl—giddy and silly and a bit out of control. “We talked about everything. His being separated, me being a shrink. Everything. And his little daughter, Mara, is so cute. Raven, I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cuter little girl. She’s smart, too. Really smart.”
Andie released Raven’s hands and stood, too energized to sit still. She crossed to the bay window, then turned back to her friend. “I met his brother and sister-in-law. And they were really nice. You know what I mean? The kind of people you would love having as family.”
She laughed. “Nick and I discussed my work. We discussed our differing opinions about psychology and the law. And it was okay that we felt differently about things. It was cool, it really was.”
Raven sat stone still and silent, so Andie rushed on, telling her friend about how she had caught the couple at the neighboring table looking at them and how she’d felt this longing—to be a mother, to be part of a family. And about how she had wanted Nick to kiss her good-night.
“You are part of a family,” Raven said suddenly, standing.
Andie blinked, becoming aware that Raven looked upset. That she hadn’t uttered a word until now. “What?”
“You are part of a family. Me, you and Julie.”
“I know.” Andie made a fluttering motion with her hands. “That’s not what I meant, not that kind of family.”
“Oh, I understand. You meant a happy little domestic thing. Woman as servant and doormat.”
Andie froze, hurt. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
Raven laughed, mocking her. “My, you do have it bad.”
“Why are you acting this way?”
Raven crossed to the window, stopping beside Andie but not looking at her. She gazed out at the night a moment, then turned and faced Andie once more, her expression furious. “So, did you fuck him?”
Andie recoiled at Raven’s crude question. “Sometimes you really tick me off. You know that?”
“Well,” she pressed, “did you? Was he good?”
“I’m not talking about sex, Raven.”
“What are you talking about?
Love?
” she mocked. “Taking vows? Something like
till death or a fox in a short skirt
do us part?”
“Screw you, Raven,” Andie said, shaking, hurt beyond words by her friend’s nastiness. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“What about his kid?” she went on. “Think his little darling will welcome you with open arms? Did you welcome Leeza that way?”
“It’s not the same thing!” Andie cried, tears choking her. “I’m not the other woman. Nick’s already separ—”
“Get a grip. To the kid, you’re still the other woman.” Raven laughed. “Thought you didn’t like your men armed and dangerous. This guy is both, big-time. He’s got heartbreaker written all over him.”
“You don’t even know him!”
“Do you?”
“You’re a fine one to talk. You date all the time. You don’t care if they’re married or separated or have a dozen kids.”
“That’s just it, Andie. I don’t care. I play games. I screw around. You—” she snapped her fingers in front of Andie’s face “—one dinner and you’re ready to marry him.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to marry him! I enjoyed his company, I liked being with him. Why is that so wrong?”
“It’s not. It’s just—” Raven made a sound of regret and caught Andie’s hands. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I know you. And I love you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I won’t be hurt.”
“That’s what your mom said, I’m sure. But in the end she was hurt, so badly it took her a long time to recover.”
Andie’s eyes filled with tears, remembering. Leeza had taken her father away from them all. And even though she was an adult and understood that no one can
take
someone away, that her father had made his own choice, and that if it hadn’t been Leeza it would have been someone else, she still blamed the woman.
“The man’s married, Andie. All your life you told me you would never get involved with a married man, or one who had children from a previous marriage. Because you knew what it was like to be that kid. I don’t want you hurt,” she said again, bringing Andie’s hands to her cheek. “You’re too special, Andie. And you’re too important to me. I won’t let you do it to yourself.”
Andie slipped her hands from Raven’s, crossed back to the couch and sat down. Being with Nick went against everything she had ever promised herself about men, dating and marriage. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been. She had enjoyed his company; she’d found him interesting and attractive and for the first time in forever, she had wanted to be with a man.
“You’re right,” Andie whispered. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“You were frightened,” Raven said. “He was there, he made you feel safe, he took your mind off what had happened.”
Andie looked at her hands. “I guess so.”
“I need to talk to you about Julie.”
“What?” Andie blinked, confused. “What?” she said again.
“I think Julie’s up to her old tricks again. When it comes to men, that girl has no loyalty. No self-respect. She’s not like us at all.”
Except for her little slipup tonight, Andie thought. How could she have been so stupid? Nick Raphael was off-limits. If she gave him the chance, he would break her heart. She leaned her head back against the couch, aching, feeling drained, as if someone had taken a vacuum and sucked the very life out of her.
“Andie? Did you hear me? I think Julie’s involved with someone.”
“She has an illness,” Andie murmured, tired. So tired it hurt to stay here and have this conversation. “An addiction. She can’t just quit because we want her to. She needs help.”
“Why don’t you talk to her? You’re a specialist in this area.”
“She doesn’t want to face the truth. She isn’t ready.”
“So, you’re just going to let her get involved with someone and run off again? Don’t you care enough at least to talk to her?”
Andie held back what she wanted to say—that she wanted Raven to leave, that she wanted to be alone. That right now she didn’t like Raven very much.
Guilt speared through her at her own thoughts. Raven had been a good friend for a long time, and if she had been less than sympathetic tonight, well, maybe Andie had needed a kick in the pants.
It didn’t feel that way, though. It didn’t feel that way at all.
She sighed. “I’ll talk to her, okay?”
Raven smiled brightly. She crossed to Andie and gave her a big hug, acting as if nothing had happened between them. Acting as if she hadn’t cut out Andie’s heart and left her to bleed to death.
“See?” Raven said cheerily. “Everything’s going to be fine. Just like it’s always been.”