Trust Me (12 page)

Burke's house.

Circling to avoid the light shed by the street lamps, she cut across to Jane's side yard, where she made a soft clicking sound at the gate to see if Jane had a dog.

No barking, growling, whining or pawing. Nothing.

Lifting the latch, Skye slipped inside.

It didn't take long to realize that Jane was home. There was a light glowing in back that couldn't be seen from the street because the garage hid everything except the narrow walkway that approached the front door. Skye could see Oliver's wife through the living room window, pacing in the kitchen, appearing and then disappearing as she walked back and forth, talking on the phone.

Fortunately, the kitchen blinds were drawn, making it possible for Skye to move close enough to hear her voice.

"I'm telling you that car's been parked out there all night... I saw someone in it--" Skye couldn't decipher the next few words. "...Do you think it could be the police? That detective came by the shop earlier.... Can't you check again? For me?"

Going back to the gate, Skye squatted to peer through a gap in the fence boards, watching for the Lexus--which came rolling down the street for the third time. She couldn't see the driver--it was too dark inside the vehicle--but the brake lights flashed as whoever it was stopped in front of her Volvo.

A car door opened, then shut. The driver must have been looking inside her car. As the Lexus pulled away a moment later, the phone rang in the house and, through the window, Skye saw Jane pick up. She took her time returning to the back--she didn't want to bump into anything in her haste--so she missed the first part of Jane's side of the conversation.

"...It's just that, well, you know how awful it's been," Jane was saying.

"I know you weren't planning to stop, but can't you come in?... Just tell her I was frightened, that I needed you to check the windows and doors. That'll give us a few minutes...." Jane must've turned away or lowered her head, because Skye could make out only a few more words--"waiting," "quick,"

and "I love you"--before the conversation ended.

Who was Jane talking to? David had said she was still with Oliver, but this made Skye wonder.

Circling to the side again, she watched the Lexus pull up to the curb.

A man, about six feet tall, wearing jeans and a heavy jacket, exited the car.

The living room light went on as Jane answered the door, forcing Skye to back away from the window. She was so busy making sure she was 76

out of sight, she didn't get a good glimpse of Jane's visitor until Jane had let him in. Then Skye could see him easily enough from her vantage point beside the window--and immediately recognized him. He was Oliver's brother. Along with the rest of Oliver's family, he'd attended almost every day of the trial.

Jane had spotted the Volvo across the street and called her brother-inlaw to check it out.

Feeling a little guilty for frightening her, Skye pressed her back to the rough stucco wall of the house and stopped watching. Jane was a victim of what Oliver had done, too. She just didn't understand who she should blame judging by the hate letters she'd sent Skye.

But a final glance inside the house, to ensure that it was safe to let herself out of the yard, left Skye rooted to the grassless earth. Jane was kissing Oliver's brother--and not the way one would typically kiss a brother-in-law. He had his tongue in her mouth and his hand inside her robe.

Tell her I was frightened... That'll give us a few minutes.... Tell who?

His wife? Was Jane having an affair with her brother-in-law?

If so, Skye didn't want to know about it. Oliver was being released in three days. What would he do if he found out? Would he kill his wife--his brother, too? And what would happen to the young girl, Kate, if she lost her mother?

Obviously, Jane had no clue how dangerous her husband was. She'd never faced the sharp point of his knife. But that could change. Especially now.

Closing her eyes, Skye sank to the ground and didn't get up until long after Oliver's brother had left and the house was completely dark. It was safer to wait. And yet, even after all that time, she couldn't decide what to do. She wanted to warn Jane. After fighting Oliver for her own life, Skye knew what he was capable of. But what were the chances that Jane would listen to her?

Skye could only hope that Oliver never found out....

Eager to put some distance between herself and this place, she opened the gate. Jane's garbage can stood next to her in all its stinking glory, and it hadn't been emptied in a while. Maybe it contained letters from Oliver, something that might tell Skye about the Burkes' future plans.

Returning to her car, she drove to the closest convenience store, bought some plastic bags and rubber gloves and went back to claim what Jane Burke was throwing away.

77

"I can't believe you brought that into my house," Sheridan grumbled, shying away from the smelly heap Skye had dumped on an old sheet in the middle of her kitchen floor.

"You're the one who called me up and insisted I come over." Skye sat down and began picking through the trash. "I told you I was investigating a case, that I had some garbage with me."

"I was worried when I couldn't reach you at home." She leaned against the opening to the kitchen, watching in obvious repugnance. "Did Detective Willis ever get hold of you?"

"He confronted me at the shooting range, right in front of my class.

Thank you for that, by the way."

Sheridan bristled at the sarcasm. "Now I can't tell him where to find you?"

Skye wasn't sure. She'd spent all afternoon trying not to think of that kiss in the parking lot. "I don't know."

"That's some clear direction."

With a shrug, Skye kept digging.

"You're going to stay here tonight, aren't you?" Using her foot, Sheridan pushed a crumpled sack farther onto the blanket. "I mean, if I have to smell this, it should be for a good reason."

"If you want me to."

"Wow, that was easy." She smiled in relief. "So, whose garbage is this? Don't tell me you took it from Sean Regan's house."

"No. I'm trusting Jonathan to do what needs to be done there." She had to. She had too much going on in her own life.

"What case are you working on?"

"My own."

A suspicious silence met this response. Bending, Sheridan plucked an envelope out of the garbage. "Jane A. Burke," she read aloud. Then her jaw dropped and her eyes went round. "You've got to be kidding me."

Skye kept sifting and tossing. An empty cookie package. An empty potato chip bag...

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"Have you lost your mind?" Sheridan demanded.

"No." Skye refused to look up.

"You get angry at Detective Willis for saying you're asking for trouble. But what do you call this?"

Skye finally met her friend's agitated gaze. "For your information, he thinks we're all asking for trouble. And if Burke really killed those women, he's a serial rapist and murderer, Sheridan. That kind of person doesn't stop.

He has to be stopped. I know how coldly calculating Burke is, how much pleasure he derives from hurting women."

"That's the problem. It's possible he's still obsessed with you. If he finds out you were at his house, it'll be like...like pulling the tail of a rabid dog! He'll come after you. You know he will."

Skye suspected he'd come after her anyway. "His wife is having an affair with his brother."

As expected, that statement stole the fire from Sheridan's anger.

"What?"

"I saw them together. Tonight."

Her eyebrows went up. "Not doing..."

"Kissing passionately. Definitely a precursor."

"Not only were you stealing Jane Burke's trash, you were peeking in her windows?"

Skye wrinkled her nose at a soggy napkin. "It's a long story. Bottom line, I was trying to become familiar with Burke's situation before he gets home."

"So you can do what?"

"Keep an eye on him. Put him away when he acts out again."

Sheridan shook her head. "That's not your job."

"Yes, it is. I've made it my job, and you've done the same, on other cases for other people."

"Those other people aren't so close to me. This scares me. It's bad enough that he's getting out. Now you're sur-veilling his place?"

"I've gotta do what I've gotta do. I can't just run scared."

Sheridan straightened. "How do you think he'll react when he finds out that his wife is sleeping with his brother?"

"The same way you think he'll react."

Placing both hands on her head, Sheridan said, "Oh, boy. She's in trouble."

"And she doesn't even know it." With a heavy sigh, Skye went back to work.

Sheridan sank to her knees. "Do we warn her?"

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"I can't decide." Skye found a note from Burke's daughter's school.

Kate was misbehaving, so the teacher requested a parent-teacher conference.

As Skye set the note aside, she tried not to feel any empathy for Jane.

Jane certainly wouldn't thank her for it. But Burke's wife was struggling; she could tell.

"What'd you find?" Sheridan asked.

"Another small bit of Jane's life."

Sheridan stared at the note. "Should we call her?"

"And say what? If all the testimony she heard in that trial didn't make her wonder if her husband could be dangerous, nothing I say will convince her."

"What a mess."

Skye didn't know if she was talking literally or figuratively, but the comment fit regardless.

Shoving the sleeves of her sweatshirt up to her elbows, Sheridan sat crossed-legged on the floor and joined in. "What are we looking for?"

"Anything that'll give us an idea where they plan to live, what they plan to do. Someone has to keep very close tabs on him."

Sheridan fished out an empty wine bottle. "Hey, this is expensive stuff."

Skye studied the label. "A quiet evening alone," she said, her mind on what she'd witnessed earlier.

"Tell me Oliver's brother doesn't have a wife."

"I'm pretty sure he does."

Sheridan cursed under her breath. "And it gets uglier."

"There might be kids involved, too. Besides poor Kate, I mean."

Sheridan held up a wet Post-it note. Although the ink was running, Oliver's name was still legible, as well as an address someone had jotted down. "What about this?"

"Doesn't have a city or zip," Skye mused.

"That means it's probably local. But there might not be any real connection between Oliver and the address. Jane might've been doodling."

"It's worth checking."

Sheridan relinquished the yellow note into Skye's hand. "Do you think Oliver's wife ever wonders if you're telling the truth about what happened?"

"Going by the letters she sent me a few years ago, she seems convinced I lied about the whole thing."

"Maybe she's in denial. Maybe she can't face that she has a child with a man who's capable of doing what Burke's done." Sheridan tossed a torn shoebox at the discard pile. "Or maybe she doesn't care whether he's 80

innocent or not."

"She cares." The level of passion in the letters Skye had received clearly revealed that. So did the way Jane had behaved at trial.

"But you'd have to question your own beliefs at some point, wouldn't you? Can you imagine what her life's been like?"

"She needs to take her little girl and move on, go somewhere Burke will never find her."

Sheridan stacked a few letters, mostly junk mail, off to one side.

"Why didn't you call me before you went to Burke's house?" She looked slightly wounded. "I would've gone with you."

"You would've tried to talk me out of it."

"Of course. I'm your friend. But then I would've given in."

For the same reason. Skye responded with a tired smile. "I know. I just didn't have the energy to deal with the initial resistance." The fatigue that ebbed and flowed, depending on the amount of adrenaline in Skye's system, was making a determined resurgence. She was glad she'd come to Sheridan's condo. Maybe she'd actually be able to forgo her compulsive checking of doors and windows and get some sleep.

"What about Detective Willis?" Sheridan asked.

Skye remembered his mouth on hers, their bodies pressed tightly together in that parking lot--and wanted more. It was crazy to be so desperate for physical contact, but the heightened emotions of the past few days only made her desire to be with him that much stronger. "What about him?"

"Are you going to tell him you went over to Burke's?"

Skye grimaced as she opened a plastic bag that held rotting meat.

"Ugh, not good." Quickly closing it, she carried the bag outside to dispose of it. She was pretty sure it held steak scraps--more evidence of a romantic dinner.

"You didn't answer me," Sheridan said when Skye returned.

Skye plopped onto the floor. "Because I haven't thought it through. He won't be happy to know I was over there. But I need his help to protect Jane.

So.. .yeah, I'll probably tell him. When I get a minute."

"Then you'll be done, right? You'll turn whatever you find here over to him and quit nosing around?"

"How can I be done when Burke will still be on the loose?"

Sheridan frowned as she gathered up all the trash that had no possible value to them. "Because Detective Willis will take over and eventually put him away."

Eventually was the key word. Skye knew David was a good detective.

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But David had to play by the rules and Burke didn't. Burke had gotten away with murder. "This isn't David's only case, Sheridan. He has new stuff coming at him all the time. He needs whatever help we can give him."

"Then we'll hire Jonathan."

"Jonathan's busy."

"It wouldn't matter," Sheridan said. "You're caught up in this. You won't back off until..." She didn't finish.

"It's personal," Skye admitted.

Sheridan worked in silence for a few minutes. When she spoke again, the tone of her voice had changed. "Do you ever think we're getting carried away?"

Reluctant to address that question, Skye kept her hand down. "I have to know where he is, what he's doing."