“I will,” she said.
She sounded nervous, but the subsequent click told him she was gone.
Noah Burke was older than his brother, but he was also bigger and better-looking. Although he had Oliver’s fine sandy hair and blue eyes, his jaw and forehead were more pronounced, more masculine. As far as Skye was concerned, Jane had traded up. Except that Noah wasn’t really available for a relationship. And the affair could easily trigger a murderous rage in the little pervert she’d married.
“What are you doing here?” Noah asked.
The only other people in the room, a secretary and a subcontractor—judging by the conversation—glanced up from the invoice they were discussing.
Obviously, Oliver’s brother recognized her, from TV or the trial or both. His eyes held suspicion, but he hadn’t raised his voice.
“I need a few minutes of your time,” she told him.
His eyes swept over her as if he was considering whether or not to throw her out. “We have no business together.”
Skye threw back her shoulders. “I have to at least try to make you understand.”
The awkward silence on the part of the other two people seemed to convince Noah that this meeting might be better handled without an audience. Pursing his lips, he gave a little shrug. “Come on back to my office.”
Surprisingly, he held open the swinging door that allowed her to pass through the reception area. Then he waved her ahead of him into a luxurious room with a large window, a tall mahogany door, wainscoting, crown molding and a hardwood floor.
“Nice office,” she said.
“Thank you.” He motioned to a chair. “Would you like to sit down?”
Skye had appeared at Noah’s place of business prepared to dislike him. He was cheating on his wife and children and, unwittingly or not, he was putting the object of his desire in harm’s way. But she had to admit he was polite, although he had no reason to be. In his view, she’d falsely accused his brother of a serious crime.
She remembered him sitting in the courtroom, trying to comfort Jane and his mother after the verdict had been read. Later, his face could’ve been chiseled in stone when they nearly bumped into each other on the way out of the building. “I hope you’re happy,” he’d muttered.
“What brings you here?” he asked now, taking his seat behind a large desk.
She sat rigidly, wishing she were somewhere else. His skepticism and doubt weren’t easy to deal with. “Like I said, I need you to understand something.”
His expression revealed little of his thoughts. “I’m listening.”
“I wasn’t lying.”
“About…”
“Any of it.”
His gaze fell to his desktop, and he slowly straightened his calendar, pencil holder, clock. “It’s irrelevant,” he said at length. “Oliver’s served his time. It’s over.”
She slid to the edge of her seat, trying to catch his eye. “I’m afraid it’s not over. He’s getting out tomorrow. Unless he’s changed a great deal, which I highly doubt, he’ll attack someone else. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Stop it!” he snapped. “You’re crazy or paranoid or both.”
“I’m neither! He held a knife to my throat while he groped my br**sts, okay? He ripped off my pajamas!”
A pained expression appeared on Noah’s even features. “Look. You…you seem to believe what you’re saying. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’ve occasionally wondered. But it doesn’t make sense. You’re talking about my little brother. I grew up with him. He was the gentlest kid on the block, so gentle that my friends used to ask me where my little sister was. That little ‘sister’ is who you’re calling a ra**st.”
It was one thing to endure the ordeal she’d endured, another to have others think she was maliciously inventing a story that could destroy a man’s life. Sometimes Skye thought the lingering doubt was worse than the actual attack because it never seemed to end. “Why would I lie about that?” she asked.
“Because you were high or…or momentarily out of touch with reality or half-asleep. I don’t know, but you’re remembering it wrong. You’ve got to be.”
She jumped to her feet. “I’m not remembering it wrong. That’s something I’ll never forget, something I have to live with every day!”
He stood, too. “But you’ve certainly turned it to your advantage, haven’t you? That charity is paying your bills. Jane’s the one who’s really suffered. She’s got nothing.”
“Except you, right?”
He gaped at her. “What’d you say?”
“You heard me,” she said. “And if your brother finds out, I won’t have to convince you the little son of a bitch is dangerous. You’ll learn it for yourself. Or Jane will.” Grabbing her purse, she started to march out of the office.
“Ms. Kellerman.”
The panic in his voice made her pause. Turning, she found him watching her with an ashen face. “If you tell anyone… I mean, I don’t want to hurt my wife or my brother. I never intended to…we never intended… It just—” at a loss, he shrugged “—happened.”
He hung his head as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and Skye surprised herself by feeling sympathy for him. “I don’t want to see anyone hurt, either,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m here.”
He eyed her dubiously. “You won’t tell?”
“Only Detective Willis, and that’s because I’m hoping he can protect her.”
“Oliver would never hurt Jane.”
“Believe what you want,” she said. “Just don’t bet your life on it.”
“My life? He wouldn’t hurt me, either,” he argued. “Even if he tried, I’m bigger and stronger than he is.”
“Strength isn’t all that matters. Oliver is cunning.” She thought of David’s call, which she’d received just before she walked into the construction office. That book of Oliver’s was a record of every offense, petty or otherwise, he’d suffered to that point. “And he never forgets a slight.”
11
Skye sat alone in the crowded restaurant, examining the animated faces of the strangers around her. They were laughing, talking, gesticulating, eating—living. That wasn’t what she did anymore. Since Burke’s attack, she hovered along the perimeter of life. Usually she was better at going through the motions than she was today. But no one else in the restaurant knew that a killer was about to be released—a killer who looked every bit as trustworthy and good-natured as the guy next door.