The Way You Look Tonight (17 page)

Deborah looked at her in astonishment. ‘But no one ever moved in. Who rents a big, beautiful house like that and leaves it empty? Where is this man?'

Barbara shrugged. ‘My friend, Roberta, has no idea. But six months' rent was paid in advance by a check drawn on a Charleston back account.'

‘You're joking,' Pete said. ‘Could she tell you anything about this guy?'

‘Only that he said he was self-employed.' Barbara hesitated. ‘She also remembered that he was probably in his late thirties or early forties, tall, slim and dark-haired.'

Deborah swallowed. ‘Just like Steve.'

One

At 9.30 Pete left, followed shortly afterward by Barbara and Evan. Barbara wanted to stay, but Deborah took her aside. ‘Evan is strung tight as a piano string.'

‘Of course he is,' Barbara had said. ‘He's worried to death about Steve and now there's all this stuff about the bank account and Mrs Dillman.'

‘I know all that. But I also think he misses you. Spend the night with him – make him forget about all this for a while.' Barbara started to protest. ‘Don't argue. We're fine. The police or the FBI or maybe both are outside and Joe's inside with us.'

‘Yes – Joe…' Barbara looked worried.

‘What is it?'

‘Just something Evan said about Joe.'

‘What did he say?'

‘Nothing definite. Just that he doesn't trust Joe. You know – all that stuff in Houston.'

‘Steve told me about it. Joe was cleared of all wrongdoing. What's the problem?'

‘I don't know.' Barbara had looked as if she regretted saying anything. ‘I suppose they just don't like each other. Forget what I said.'

Exasperated, Deborah felt like saying it wasn't fair of Barbara to bring up doubts about the man staying in her house, then tell her to drop the matter. She bit back the words, however, as Evan came up holding Barbara's coat.

‘We can both stay,' he told Deborah, his blue eyes solemn. ‘Say the word and you have two more watchdogs.'

For an instant Deborah considered saying yes. Barbara's words had shaken her, but only slightly. She wasn't going to let Evan and Joe's personal differences sway her growing confidence in Joe. If she started doubting everyone, she'd completely lose control in this dangerous situation, and she could
not
lose control – she had the children to protect.

Still, she remembered her father telling her many years ago that she had bad instincts about others. ‘You don't have the sense God gave a goose when it comes to people,' he'd shouted angrily when her best friend, Mary Lynn, had been arrested for shoplifting. ‘I knew she was bad soon as I looked at her. But not you. Always thinkin' the best of folks. One of these days, girl, you'll learn.' She had trusted Steve, only to come to doubt that she'd known her husband at all. Now she was trusting Joe. Was that just as big a mistake?

Two

Evan stood at the window of Barbara's third-floor apartment staring out at the cold December night. ‘We should put up a Christmas tree,' he said.

‘Have you forgotten?' Barbara came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘I don't celebrate Christmas.'

‘Would having a Christmas tree condemn you to hell?'

‘I'm Jewish – we don't believe in hell.'

‘Then where do you believe someone like The Dark Alley Strangler goes when he dies?'

Barbara forced him to turn around and frowned up at him. ‘What's brought on this mood? We've been seeing each other for nearly a year and never discussed religion.'

‘It's our first Christmas together, and under the circumstances…'

‘Under
what
circumstances?'

‘This thing with Steve.'

‘What does Steve have to do with a Christmas tree?'

‘I don't know. Nothing.'

Barbara put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. ‘Yes, it's something. Just tell me.'

‘I suppose because everything is so screwed up, I need to maintain a few of the traditions.'

‘Do you think Steve is dead?'

‘No. I'm afraid he's guilty.'

‘Evan! How can you say that?'

‘How can I say it? Look at the evidence. There's more every day.'

‘Coincidence.'

‘Sure. One coincidence after another. I don't buy it.'

‘Before, you were suspicious of Joe. Now you're suspicious of
Steve
?' She took her hands away from his shoulders. ‘Evan, I know you don't like Joe, and I admit, you got me thinking about his sudden overwhelming concern for Deborah. But I can't believe you've known Steve for so long and you're talking like this. How can you possibly believe Steve Robinson is capable of not one but multiple brutal murders?'

‘He's not beyond reproach, Barbara. Look at the events surrounding his sister's attack.'

‘He was a kid.'

‘He
wasn't
a kid. He was eighteen.'

‘And how mature were you at eighteen?'

‘Apparently more so than Steve.'

‘I wonder about that. He was scared, Evan. And he was under terrible pressure from his parents.'

Evan jerked his hand impatiently, almost as if he were brushing her aside like a fly, and walked to the brown vinyl-upholstered couch. The cushions squeaked when he sat down. ‘When are you going to get some decent furniture?' he asked irritably.

‘The apartment is furnished, Evan.'

‘Then why don't you find an apartment that isn't furnished and fix it up? Make it look warm, not like an office decorated from a department-store bargain basement.'

Barbara's lips tightened. ‘You know I couldn't care less how the apartment looks as long as it's clean. Why do you want me to move? Because you'd like to move in with me?'

Evan looked startled. ‘No.'

‘I didn't think so.'

‘Barb, our living together or getting married just isn't possible right now.'

‘Why not?' Barbara was aware of the sharp tone her voice had acquired, but she couldn't help it. Nevertheless, she could see Evan bristling. ‘We need to plan for something like that. We've never even discussed it.'

‘A church wedding takes time.'

‘Evan, I'm not getting married in a church.'

‘Oh, for God's sake,' he exploded. ‘What is this religious kick you're suddenly on?'

‘The religious kick
I'm
on? What about you? I've never known you go to church. You're worried about your parents. You know they wouldn't approve of a civil ceremony, but it would be
our
wedding.'

‘They're older, Barb. These things mean a lot to them.'

‘They mean a lot to my family, too.'

‘And then we'd have to discuss the issue of children. I mean, if we were going to have a child, it would have to be soon. You don't have much more time.'

‘Thank you very much for reminding me,' Barbara said acidly.

Evan rolled his blue eyes. ‘I didn't mean that as an insult. If your age bothered me, I wouldn't have started seeing you in the first place. But facts are facts.'

‘Yes, they are. And the fact is that you aren't interested in marrying me.'

‘We have things to work out. It would be a bad move for us
now
.'

Barbara placed her hands on her hips. ‘And when
wouldn't
it be a bad move?'

Evan stared at her. ‘You look like the stiff-necked schoolmarm glaring over me. Has the young whippersnapper overstepped himself again? Do you feel you need to jerk him back in line, force him to listen to an older, wiser voice?'

Color flooded Barbara's cheeks. ‘How dare you talk to me that way?'

Evan stood. ‘Listen to yourself. You sound like my parent, not my lover.'

‘I don't.'

‘You
do
.' Evan reached for his coat on the arm of the couch. ‘I think it's time for me to leave.'

‘
Leave
? Evan, you were going to spend the night.'

‘Well, you've hardly set the mood for romance. I'll take a raincheck.'

‘A
raincheck
! Do you have to sound so cavalier?'

‘I could sound a lot worse than cavalier.'

Barbara's anger faded and she took an entreating step toward him. ‘Evan, I left Deborah alone so we could spend some time together.'

‘She's not alone. She has the rough and ready Joe Pierce with her.'

‘Evan,
please
,' Barbara begged as she followed him to the door. ‘Don't leave like this.'

‘Better to leave like this than to stay and make things worse.'

Barbara clutched his arm. ‘Evan—'

‘Don't
pull
at me,' he snapped, jerking his arm away. ‘I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.'

Barbara closed the door behind him, then leaned against it, tears filling her eyes. What had happened? What had she done to ruin the evening? Or had Evan merely
wanted
an excuse to leave?

Three

Evan stalked from Barbara's apartment building and out to his red Toyota Camry. He sat in the car for a moment, his hand tight on the steering wheel. He half expected to see Barbara barreling out of the door and tearing after him. If she looked down from her living-room window and saw him, she would. Quickly he started the car and headed out of the lot.

He tuned the radio to the classical station. Barbara hated classical music, which was just one of their differences. She also had no interest in art films, gourmet food, or horses. When he'd taken her to his parents' graceful twenty-room home with its surrounding fifteen acres in Fairfax, Virginia, she'd been lost. She had nothing to talk about with his fragile, artistic mother or his genteel and very social sister. And when she'd been thrown into the midst of his old social set, with the young, affluent married couples and the unmarried women who despite their various careers all wore the patina of old money and privilege, Barbara seemed like a wild and hardy dandelion amid a bunch of delicate tea-roses.

He'd felt ashamed of himself for thinking so, ashamed of caring that his friends, for all their good manners, had been openly astonished at his choice of a girlfriend. And his parents, though they hadn't said a word, were unable to hide their own disapproval.

Or had they really tried to hide it? he asked himself. His parents were masters at conveying negative emotions without saying a word. For instance, they'd never said they were appalled that he'd become a prosecuting attorney instead of going into the law firm his great-grandfather had started, but they'd let him know it all the same. And if he was going to disappoint them with his career, he was at least expected to marry someone ‘suitable', someone reared with money, someone who had traveled in Europe, gone to all the right schools, someone who knew how to leave work at the office and become the charming, lilting-voiced hostess at home. Especially someone young enough to have several children to carry on the Kincaid name. After all, Evan was the only male child. The line would end with him if he didn't have a son.

‘Good God,' he said aloud. ‘It sounds like we're some royal family.' But ridiculous as it sounded, he'd been brought up knowing what was expected of him, just as his father had been. And his father had done what he was supposed to do. He was the rebel in the family, but he wasn't sure he was as comfortable with rebellion as he thought he'd be.

With a curse, he turned off the radio. What he needed was an evening in a bright, sleazy bar, where the cigarette smoke, the liquor, and the noise would temporarily ease the painful conflict in his mind.

Four

I'm gonna get
murdered
, Toni Lee Morris thought as she emerged from the bar. She stood on the sidewalk a moment, pulled a lock of her long dark hair under her nose and sniffed. Ugh! She reeked of cigarette smoke. Clothes she could shed. She could even hop in the shower before climbing in bed with Daryl, but she couldn't explain washing her hair at midnight. And he'd notice, she thought glumly. As soon as she got back to the trailer court and crept into their bed, Daryl would awaken from what seemed a death-like sleep and be all over her. After all, it
was
only his third night back from hauling chemicals out of Nitro to God knew where. And he was leaving again tomorrow morning. Yeah, he'd notice, and she couldn't pass off the smell as the lingering smoke of a couple of cigarettes she'd had while babysitting for her sister Brenda's kids.

Then there was the problem of money. Brenda always paid her for babysitting. She'd promised to lie if Daryl called (‘Yeah, Daryl, I got back early but I'm beat and I asked Toni to pick up a pizza for me. I'll have her call as soon as she gets back'), then give Toni Lee a warning call at the bar. But the problem was that Toni Lee had no money to show for her evening of ‘babysitting'. Maybe Daryl would ask to see it. Yeah, sure, Toni Lee thought. In the morning he'd ask for a five for cigarettes, and after the drinks she'd bought tonight, she only had a couple of dollars. She'd have to make something up. How about saying Brenda was short and would pay her later? It wasn't bad. It wasn't good, either.

Shit. Marrying Daryl right out of high school was her biggest mistake. She was pretty. Better than pretty. Everyone said so. She could have had anybody. Maybe even some rich playboy. Maybe some day she would have ended up on
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
. Instead, she'd married Daryl Morris because she thought she was pregnant. She wasn't, but now she was trapped. He'd never let her go. He was crazy about her. Besides, she'd never held a job. What would she do for a living?

She'd parked her car in an alley just in case Daryl got suspicious and came looking for her. Which was really dumb, she thought as she turned into the wide, badly lit alley. I should have just come out tomorrow night after Daryl left. But she'd met that cute salesman in the bar last Monday night and he'd said he was usually around on Mondays. But not
this
Monday, as it turned out. She'd taken a big risk for nothing. She hadn't even seen anyone interesting. Well, there was that one guy sitting at the bar, but he'd seemed kind of shy. He'd left after the woman with bushy, bleached-blonde hair attached herself to him. He'd waited until she went to the restroom and then he'd taken off. No wonder, Toni Lee thought.
That
one looked like she'd been around the block a few times. A few
hundred
times.