If only Sebastian had been able to catch Malcolm before the kidnappings…He wished to hell he’d been successful. He’d felt so close then, when he and Mary were communicating with him online.
A lot had changed.
“We’re doing everything we can to put him behind bars,” Jane said. “What you told the police should help. They’re on their way to the place where Mrs. Stetzel found you.”
“It’s not far from his house,” she said. “It can’t be far from his house. I-I couldn’t have walked more than a-a mile or so.”
“We’ll find him,” Sebastian assured her. But Malcolm probably wasn’t at the house where he’d kept Latisha. Not anymore. He wouldn’t simply wait for the police to come and arrest him. Unless something had happened to stop him, he’d fled the minute Mrs. Stetzel’s car drove out of sight.
When and where he might turn up was anyone’s guess.
Twenty-Five
Malcolm tossed his bags on the spare bed in the cheap motel room he’d rented under a previous alias, put a privacy sign on the door, and used the security lock to bolt himself in. He had a lot to do, a lot to think about, but first he needed to regroup. He’d be more capable if he could sleep first.
Now that he’d gotten safely away from the house, however, the memory of that old lady driving off with Latisha was keeping him so agitated he had to turn on the television to distract himself.
He’d liked his little slave, damn it. He didn’t want to lose her. But if she was going to be a bitch after all he’d done-the diamond ring and the proposal and the chocolate-to hell with her. He hadn’t met a woman yet that he couldn’t live without. Not Mary, not his first wife, who’d remarried before he’d met Emily, definitely not Emily and not his sexy little Latisha. What really bothered him was that Sebastian would consider Latisha’s escape a victory.
So what, he told himself. Sebastian wouldn’t be celebrating for long.
One eye on the television, Malcolm booted up his laptop. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to use his computer. He had no plans to e-mail anyone, no plans to use it for anything specific. He just had to keep his hands busy while he tried to figure out how to lure Sebastian away from where Jane Burke lived. An offer to meet wouldn’t do it; Sebastian would expect a trap. So what would motivate him to go to a location of Malcolm’s choosing? A location where Malcolm would have the privacy and control he needed to finally destroy the man he detested above all others-and do so without alerting the police?
Then it hit him. Sebastian had gone to Mary’s house to save her. He’d also given Emily money or covered for her if he thought it might get her out of trouble or make her life easier. He was a f**king knight in shining armor, always trying to rescue the women around him.
Excitement coiled inside Malcolm. If Sebastian cared about Jane, and it appeared that he did, he’d do the same for her as he had for the other females in his life. That meant it would be stupid to kill her too soon. All he had to do was kidnap her and use her for bait.
But how would he get to her with Sebastian staying at her condo?
Simple-he’d take her from the office.
“There might be other people at the office,” he said, thinking aloud, “like that man I saw there before.”
But she’d be the only one getting into her car. Thanks to the early darkness of winter, he could wait in her backseat. She wouldn’t even see him. Not until it was too late.
And once he had Jane, Sebastian would do anything he was told.
“I’m a damn genius,” Malcolm said and shut down his computer. Now he could sleep.
David was still at the isolated ranch house in Turlock where Latisha had been imprisoned when Sebastian pulled into the driveway with Jane in his car. They couldn’t go inside, since the forensics team hadn’t finished gathering evidence, but Sebastian had wanted to come out here, anyway. He wanted to see where Malcolm had hidden for so long and to get a feel for how he’d lived.
Somehow, Sebastian had expected it to be nicer. He couldn’t say he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t. It just stood to reason that if a man was going to kill his wife for money, that money should put him in a better place. This old rambler wasn’t even as nice as the house in Ione. It hadn’t been updated in at least three decades, to the point that it looked and felt abandoned.
“David’s coming out to get the lunch we brought,” Jane informed him as she twisted around to get it out of the backseat.
Sebastian nodded and climbed out of the car. He wasn’t in a talkative mood. He was relieved that Latisha was safe, but he had no idea when Mary would be able to return to regular life-or how much was left of his. New York was beginning to seem like a whole other world to which he no longer belonged.
The front door opened and David strode purposefully toward them. “Thanks for the meal,” he said as Jane handed him the sack containing the hamburger and fries they’d picked up on the way.
“What’re you finding?” she asked. “Anything that might help?”
“Actually, there’s a lot here, so much it’ll take a while to process. Hair fibers, blood on the carpet, mattresses where the girls probably slept, metal stakes in the floor where they were restrained, alcohol, sleeping pills.”
“He didn’t have time to clean up,” Jane mused.
“He barely had time to pack an overnight bag.”
Dark clouds rolled across the sun and the temperature plunged. She pulled her coat closed. “So…if we can find him, there should be more than enough evidence to convict him.”
“Along with Latisha’s testimony, I should think so.”
Sebastian was staring at the house, wondering what Malcolm had been thinking whenever he approached the front door. This was no kind of trade, not for the life he’d once had. Malcolm had once owned a comfortable home, had a respectable job and parents and siblings who seemed like decent folks, a lovely wife, and the opportunity to make a real difference as a parent to a very good kid. His kid.
“What an idiot…”
Jane and David glanced his way. “Excuse me?” David said.
“After what he had in Jersey, he’s willing to settle for this dump?”
“Used to be a dairy farm,” David explained. “The original owner sold off the stock shortly after his wife died, when he got too old to run the place. It was paid for and he’d spent fifty years here, so he stayed until he died, five years ago. His kids inherited, of course, but they’re spread out across the country. One’s even in Japan, teaching English. No one wanted to move here. None of them could afford to bring the farm back. They’ve been trying to sell it ever since but in the current market it’s not easy to sell something like this. I’m sure they rented it to Malcolm pretty cheap.”