Exactly the kind of behavior he’d been hoping to avoid….
“I want to see you.”
Jane held her breath while she waited for Noah’s response. Going behind the building meant she was standing near the smelly Dumpster, but the smoke from her cigarette helped cloak the stench, and she was too preoccupied to be bothered by minor annoyances. Noah had been acting so strange the past week, ever since Oliver had come home from the hospital. It was as if he felt personally responsible for the stabbing. He visited often, generally to bring food or a video to keep his brother entertained while he recuperated, but when he came he hardly even glanced in Jane’s direction. The two men talked and laughed, as though they hadn’t been apart for three years.
Jane had never felt more alone.
“We can’t,” Noah said. “You know that.”
“Are you saying you don’t care about me anymore?”
“I’m saying—” he seemed to struggle for words “—ever since Skye Kellerman showed up here at the office, it’s been…different for me somehow.”
Skye? Again? “How?” she asked, panicking because she was losing her only support. Life was difficult enough. She couldn’t go on without Noah. Not now. She had to get her feet under her first. “She hasn’t told anyone. Oliver doesn’t know. He doesn’t even suspect.”
“Jane…please understand. I’m not trying to hurt you. I know you’ve been through too much. It’s just that…when she came here and confronted me, I felt like scum, and that’s not what I want to be. I—I have a good wife, Jane. It’s a miracle Wendy’s still with me after how…distant I’ve been. I don’t want to lose my family, not Wendy and the kids or Oliver and my folks.”
“So you can…turn off what you feel for me? Just like that?” Her cigarette burned dangerously close to her fingers, but she simply watched the glowing end eat up more of the white paper.
“It’s not easy, but I can’t see any better way to fix what we’ve done. Confessing certainly won’t improve the situation.”
The fact that he’d even mention confessing told Jane he’d contemplated it. She’d always known his guilt would be a problem. But she’d assumed his feelings for her would overcome it. “I’m wearing that little miniskirt you like. And…and I’ve done something new to my hair. It’s blond and short.” She made an effort to keep her voice steady, to sound more sexy than needy. “I could stop by the office after everyone’s gone. We could do it on your desk, like we did a few weeks ago. You liked that, remember?”
“I remember.” But his voice was flat.
“What do you say? We could make it quick so you won’t even be late for supper.”
At least he hesitated before turning her down. “No. I’m done, Jane. I don’t want to cheat or lie anymore. I need to be able to respect myself again.”
Jane imagined going home without the bolstering knowledge that Noah still wanted her, and felt desperate. Helpless. Oliver hadn’t recovered sufficiently to make love, but he was getting stronger. Today he’d called to tell her he was going out for a drive. He was even picking up Kate from school instead of having his mother do it. Now that his mobility was increasing, it wouldn’t be long before he wanted a sex life.
But she wasn’t interested in sleeping with him. He was so moody. There’d always been periods when he was sullen or withdrawn. She’d learned to wait him out, but prison had made his mood swings so much more dramatic. Sometimes he’d barely speak to her. Whenever she asked if he was okay, he’d tell her he needed time alone. Then he’d lock himself in the bedroom with his binder. Or he’d sit in the dark, not doing anything. Other times, he was as friendly and gregarious as ever, even talked about having a barbecue for their old friends so he could see everyone again.
Evidently, he didn’t understand that most of their former friends weren’t interested in resuming a relationship with a convicted sex offender, that he’d likely be snubbed the way Jane had been. She’d told him, of course. Several times. But he didn’t seem to get it. He also didn’t realize that they were barely surviving financially. How could they afford to throw a party? And why would they want any of those people, who prided themselves on the size of their homes and the number of cars and boats they owned, to see the dump they lived in now?
“That’s it, then?” Jane said. “You don’t want to see me again?”
“I want to be an honorable person. You understand, don’t you, Jane?”
She understood. She even admired him for it. She just didn’t know how she was going to withstand his rejection.
Her cigarette scorched her fingers, and she finally tossed it away. The burn stung, but it was nothing compared to what she was feeling inside.
The phone beeped. She had another call.
“I’ll let you go then,” he said.
Jane didn’t respond. She checked her caller ID. Oliver was trying to get through.
“Jane?” Noah said.
Again, she didn’t answer, didn’t mention the other call. She hoped he wouldn’t hang up. But he ended the conversation anyway. “I’m sorry,” he said, then click.
Numb, Jane stood in the chill wind, watching the butt of her cigarette smolder on the asphalt. Oliver wanted to talk to her. And he was all she had left.
19
The nights were the hardest. And knowing Oliver had been released from the hospital and was probably gaining strength every day only made them worse. Skye imagined she saw him around every corner. As the working day came to a close, she’d stare out her office window, watching the parking lot as if she’d see him hovering in the shadows, waiting to drag her into the bushes the second she stepped outside.
When she left the office, she usually walked out with Sheridan and Jasmine, or, if they had appointments elsewhere, she’d hurry to the Volvo with her hand in her purse, clasping her gun. It was the same if she was leaving the shooting range or one of her classes. As soon as she slipped into her car, she’d lock the doors and keep an eye on her rearview mirror the whole way home. Then she’d barricade herself inside the house until morning. She’d had the window and the telephone fixed, but the company that had installed the bars was no longer in business, and she decided not to bother finding someone else. Since the incident with Bishop, she felt as if they shut her in more than they shut anyone out. And she didn’t really have the money to deal with it this month, anyway. She hadn’t reconnected the alarm, either. It wasn’t worth the added expense if it could be disarmed so easily.