She pulled the collar of the robe higher, practically up to her nose. She was still tired, but she was hungry, too—hungry for physical intimacy, reassurance, the positive things in life. She’d dealt with the devastating results of violent crime on an up-close-and-personal basis for too long. She needed to compensate, and she knew exactly how she wanted to do that.
But David had been very careful not to touch her since he’d shown her into his apartment.
“I’m thinking he’s a friend of Oliver’s.” She let go of the robe’s collar for a moment to take another sip of wine. “Or maybe someone he paid to scare me.”
“Describe him again.”
“He was about five-eleven, 190 lbs. Dark, shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, an olive complexion, a giant piercing in each earlobe and a goatee.”
“Any additional scars? Tattoos?”
“No. Other than the holes in his ears, he could change his looks easily enough. All he’d have to do is shave off the goatee, bleach and cut his hair and put on a pair of glasses. At that point, he could probably walk right past me and I wouldn’t recognize him—unless I happened to focus on his earlobes.”
David rubbed at the condensation on the table from his glass of water and turned the paper over. The man had written on the back of a fast-food receipt. “It’s not like this tells us much, either.”
“I wonder how long he’s been following me. If he knows where I live.” The fear of that had stopped her from going home, even though she hadn’t felt like working anymore.
“It’s not like Burke to collaborate. He might appear friendly on the surface, but on a deeper level he’s very antisocial.”
“He strikes me as a loner, too,” she agreed. “Only a loner would make that list. It’s such a juvenile way to react to people.” She shook her head. “He’s a dentist, an educated man, for crying out loud.”
“Just because he’s advanced intellectually doesn’t mean he isn’t retarded emotionally.”
“What do you think screwed him up?”
He raised one shoulder. “Tough to say. It might have to do with his upbringing.”
“But he has a good family.”
“In most respects, I suppose.”
She liked the sound of David’s voice, his large hands loose around his glass. “Have you found something I don’t know about?”
“Nothing earth-shattering. A guard at the prison told me he saves every letter from his father, but throws away all the others. And there’ve been a couple of other statements by various people in Oliver’s life that make me wonder if there wasn’t some problem between him and his father when he was growing up. Jealousy of his brother. Feelings of inadequacy. Confusion over his sexual identity. Something.”
“I wish his mother would open up and talk honestly about what he was like as a child.”
“She’s too deep in denial for that. She has a son who’s a serial ra**st and murderer, yet she insists he was a perfect boy and had a perfect family.”
“Noah seemed to turn out okay,” she said.
He arched an eyebrow. “You’ve met Noah?”
She braced herself for more of David’s disapproval. “I spoke with him today. At his office.”
“Do I want to hear this?”
“Probably not. But you can’t do your job with only half the facts. This isn’t directly related to those three murder cases, but it’s peripherally connected.”
“Why’d you go see him?”
“Why do you think? I had to warn him what could happen if Oliver found out about the affair.”
“Warn him?” Obviously frustrated, David stood up and shoved a hand through his hair, making it stick up in front. “You realize that means the person who approached you at the restaurant could’ve been Noah’s hired man and not Oliver’s, don’t you? Now he’s aware that you know he’s having an affair with his brother’s wife. And I’ll bet he’s told Jane that you know, which makes two people—besides Oliver, of course—who’d love to see your lips sealed forever.”
“At least they’re all members of the same family,” she quipped, watching him pace.
He gave her a dirty look and didn’t answer.
“What did you expect me to do? Ignore the risks Jane and Noah are running? They believe Oliver’s like everyone else, David. And I knew that if Jane ever wound up dead, I’d feel responsible because I saw it coming and did nothing to prevent it.”
He stopped pacing long enough to face her. “What about your own safety, Skye?” he asked, sliding his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.
She stared at the wine in her glass. “That’s another issue entirely.”
“No, it’s not!” He crossed the room and bent down to stare into her eyes again. “You scare the hell out of me.”
She studied him, felt the chemistry between them despite his frustration. “In more ways than one, right?”
He’d obviously noticed the changed inflection in her voice because his eyes fell to her mouth. “You’re a temptation,” he admitted.
A temptation he was determined to resist. And, after speaking to Lynnette, Skye was equally committed to avoiding any deeper involvement. She didn’t need the complications of falling in love with a man who wouldn’t allow himself to love her back.
She scooted her chair away from him, putting more distance between them. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
He stayed where he was, leaning on the table. “Why not?”
“Because I’m no longer interested.”
Straightening, he folded his arms and watched her from beneath half-closed eyelids. The sexual tension between them called her a liar, but she was hoping he didn’t feel that tension quite as strongly as she did. “You’ve met someone else?”
She held up her glass in a toast. “Not yet. But I haven’t been very open to the idea. Until now.”
“Until now,” he repeated. “Now you’re looking for someone?”
She downed the rest of her wine. “Why not? I deserve a man who wants what I have to offer.”
His scowl darkened as he drew close again and lowered his voice. “Sounds like you’re interested in a serious relationship.”
“I am.” She ran a finger around the rim of her glass because she knew what her eyes would reveal if she looked up at him, especially now that he was only inches away. “Maybe even marriage.”