Gruber squeezed his eyes shut. She isn’t talking. She’s not even alive. Don’t listen to her.
“Good.” Beverly sounded relieved.
“Night,” he said.
“Night,” she responded as if surprised he’d be so polite.
After hanging up, he grabbed his keys. He’d show Valerie. Soon Jasmine and Valerie would be watching television together.
Chapter 20
Jasmine woke midmorning. She could feel the warmth of Romain’s body. He was lying so still, she expected him to be sleeping, but when she checked, she found him awake and on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Don’t start,” she warned when he glanced at her.
He rolled over and began feeling her up, making her realize that they were both growing far too comfortable with their intimacy. He was acting as if he could touch her whenever and wherever he wanted. As if he had a right. “Don’t start what?” he murmured as he nudged her hair aside and kissed her neck.
She ignored a shiver of excitement and managed to wriggle out of his grasp.
“Closing yourself off. Letting me know last night was just a cheap thrill, telling me you don’t care about me or anyone else. I get all that, okay?” She yawned lazily; she didn’t want him to guess this speech was something she’d carefully practiced before ever opening her eyes. “You’re safe.”
A half smile curved his lips. “You made love to me three times.”
“Doesn’t mean anything except that you’re sort of good with your hands.”
“Sort of good?”
She pretended to think about it. “Okay, really good.” She let her gaze travel down his length. “And you have a few other attributes I find appealing.”
“But you’re merely using me.”
“Of course.” She fought the urge to curl into his side and doze off for a few more minutes, to let down her guard one last time. She was tired of always pretending. Pretending she didn’t mind sharing the holidays with friends instead of relatives. Pretending what she’d felt for Harvey and the others was enough.
Pretending that she wouldn’t miss the deeper feeling Romain somehow inspired.
“I’m not interested in a serious relationship. This is just a temporary arrangement while I’m in town. My life is in Sacramento.”
Some emotion showed in his eyes. She suspected it had to do with her refusal to see the difference between last night and the previous time they’d made love. He’d been extra-gentle, extra-affectionate, and he’d said some really beautiful things. But she refused to believe any of it, refused to set herself up for disappointment. The heat of passion was the heat of passion, right? And she refused to chase something she couldn’t have. She knew too well the deep dissatisfaction that stemmed from craving the ideal. For some reason, it was her lot in life to hover near the flame but never quite get warm.
“I see.” His smile disappeared as he released her. “Thanks for putting me on notice.”
“No problem. I wouldn’t want you to fall in love or anything. Then the situation could get awkward for both of us.”
His lashes lowered until she could no longer read any expression in his eyes.
“Right.”
Getting up, she retrieved a clean bra and underwear from her suitcase. Aware that he was watching her dress, she made sure she kept her “I can take you or leave you” attitude in place. “So…are you going to tell me what Dustin said to you last night?”
The bedding fell away as he sat up against the headboard. “He knows something’s going on. Doesn’t know exactly what, but has a general idea it isn’t good and wants his mother and brother out of it.”
“Could he provide any details? Names, dates, anything?”
“No. They obviously protect him from anything he won’t like. But he said he once overheard Phillip and Beverly talking about someone named Peccavi as if Peccavi was trouble. He thought his mother was crying at the time.”
Jasmine knew she would’ve remembered that name if she’d ever come across it before. Grabbing the address book she’d taken from the Moreaus’, she flipped through it. “Is Peccavi a first name or a surname?”
“I have no idea. Unfortunately, neither did Dustin.”
Peccavi wasn’t listed under P. In case it was a first name, Jasmine started at the beginning and went page by page, but nothing showed up that way, either.
“Google it,” Romain suggested.
Wearing only her panties, Jasmine fired up her laptop and plugged in the Internet cable provided by the hotel. It took her ten minutes to get online, but the hits she received when she Googled the word Peccavi came up with the definition first.
Apparently, peccavi was Latin for I have sinned.
“That doesn’t sound good,” she said.
Romain rubbed his hands over his face. “No.”
It must’ve been difficult for Romain to speak to the brother of the man he believed had killed his daughter. “Did you tell Dustin who you were?” she asked, turning toward him.
“I didn’t have to. He lives moment to moment with nothing but a television to entertain him. He recognized me immediately from all the news reports he’d seen during the trial.”
Jasmine got up to finish dressing. “Of course, with his brother involved, he would’ve been paying close attention. Did he know anything about Adele?”
His gaze fell to her bare br**sts. “No. And, surprisingly enough, he wasn’t defensive of Francis. He claimed he was ‘horrified’ by what his brother had done. He loves children.”
“How do you know?”
“He said so. And he has drawings from youngsters hanging up all over his room. He told me they’re the only things that cheer him up, that he loves hearing his mother talk about the children at her work and how happy they are to go to a good home.”
“She works at an orphanage?”
“An adoption agency.”
“Which one?”
“Better Life.”
Jasmine frowned. “That didn’t come up on the background search I had Jonathan run.”
“That’s your PI friend in California?”
“Right. He found some reference to a nursing license years ago, but no record of current employment. I assumed she was living on SSI.”
“Maybe someone’s paying her under the table so it won’t make her ineligible for government assistance.”
Turning back to her computer, she Googled Better Life Adoption Agency and came up empty. Then she tried Better Life without the Agency. This time, volumes of links appeared, but none of them seemed to pertain to an adoption agency, an orphanage or anything like it. “There’s nothing on the Internet about this place.”