He held the door for her. “So…will she say yes if I ask her to go out with me?”
Her head pumped energetically. “I think so.”
“What about you? Would you mind if we…you know…got together?”
She stopped walking and gazed up at him. “Do you like me, too?”
Her lack of artifice brought a lump to his throat. That was all she asked of him? He could certainly give her that. “Oh, I like you, all right,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you and your mom.”
With an expression that showed her pleasure at his response, she slipped her hand in his, and Sebastian smiled as he opened the car door. Not only had he found a second family, he could feel something besides anger.
He was pretty sure it was hope.
Jane didn’t know how long to wait. It was six-thirty and her appointment hadn’t shown.
She checked the Web site e-mail account as well as her personal account, which was the one she’d used to send her reply. Other than a brief confirmation of the appointment, sent late last night, she’d received no further communication.
Maybe the woman’s husband had returned from his trip early, or something else had interrupted her. Or was the poor thing just too scared? Jane didn’t want to leave if her victim was battling traffic, still planning to come. But she also didn’t have any way to confirm that and didn’t want to waste any more time if she wasn’t coming.
“I’ll give you fifteen more minutes,” she said aloud and gathered up the items she needed to put in her briefcase.
“You talking to me?” Rick tapped the inside wall of her office as he looked in through her door.
“No, I’m grumbling to myself,” she said. “My last appointment’s late.”
“I saw someone pull in about ten minutes ago and circle the lot, but it was a guy.”
“I’m definitely waiting for a woman.”
“Okay, well, I’m out of here, and I’m taking the mailers with me. I know we’ve missed the post office for today, but I’ll ask my mom to take them over while I’m in school tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine, as long as she doesn’t mind.”
“She won’t. She’s been talking about coming down here to volunteer herself. She thinks more people should get involved.”
“We’d be glad to have her.” Jane moved around the desk. “Let me at least help you get the boxes into your car.”
He waved her off. “Nah, I already did that. I just came in to say goodbye.”
She returned to her seat. “Thanks, Rick. We really appreciate everything you do.”
“No problem.” He pointed at the clock. “You gonna wait any longer?”
It was now 6:35 p.m. “Another ten minutes,” she said. If that e-mail hadn’t sounded so desperate, Jane might’ve left. But she wanted to offer this poor woman every chance she could.
Standing in the alley, Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief as the beater Mustang turned into the street. He’d been afraid he’d given himself away. Hoping to figure out which car was Jane’s, he’d cruised through the lot one too many times-and nearly ran over a tall, gangly kid who suddenly emerged from the building carrying what looked like a heavy box. Rather than act suspicious, Malcolm had stopped and smiled and gestured him across the blacktop, but he worried that the boy had somehow sensed that he wasn’t supposed to be there and gone back inside to alert Jane.
Apparently, he hadn’t done anything of the sort. He’d loaded his car and driven off. Now there was only one vehicle in the lot, and Malcolm had no trouble guessing who it belonged to. Jane had confirmed the meeting he’d requested when he posed as the unfortunate victim of spousal abuse. She had to be here, waiting for her appointment. He’d been watching the place since six. She wouldn’t have left before that.
When the sound of the Mustang had faded away, he peered around the corner. The exterior lights had come on about the time he’d arrived. They were brighter and more plentiful than he’d expected; obviously, someone was worried about security. But the extra light wouldn’t be a problem because Jane’s car was parked in a shadowy spot, and he’d been lucky enough to find her alone. No one would see him get into her car. There was no one around. He’d keep one hand on the latch, and if she spotted him as she was climbing in, he’d be able to get to her before she could summon help.
With a quick glance in both directions, he stepped out of the alley and crossed the blacktop, whistling as if he owned the car parked there. He had two door stoppers and the rubber-ended wire he’d need in a paper bag; it would take maybe a minute to break in.
He was thirty seconds into it, had barely wedged the bigger of the two door stoppers between the door and the frame, when a car on the side road came to a squealing halt. Malcolm heard the whine of reverse. Then someone yelled at him. “Hey! What the hell you doin’?”
Although Malcolm couldn’t really see the driver, he could tell from the voice that it was a man. He also got the impression of considerable size. But he didn’t let that rattle him. He could sell anything if he remained calm.
Knowing he was too old to look like a typical car thief, he waved. “Locked myself out!”
The man’s suspicion seemed to instantly dissolve. “You need me to call Triple A?”
At that moment, Malcolm tripped the unlock button he’d been fishing for inside the door. “No, I got it. Thanks, anyway!”
“You bet!” the guy said and took off.
Malcolm called him an ass**le while he checked to see if all the yelling had brought Jane to the door. The inside lights were on. He would’ve been able to see her if it had. No one was looking out.
“Piece of cake,” he muttered and climbed into her backseat. After dropping his tools on the floor so she wouldn’t find them on the pavement, he locked all the doors except the closest one and crouched behind the passenger seat, where she’d be least likely to see him.
He felt conspicuous. But how many times had she come out of that building and gotten in her car to drive home? How many times had she popped the locks and hopped in without even considering the possibility that someone might be waiting for her?
Chances were she wouldn’t even glance at the backseat. To her, this was a day like any other.
Only Malcolm knew that it would be her last.
Twenty-Eight