“Did you find anything weird?”
“Not unless you count her dad unearthing her vibrator.” She laughed. “He threw it across the room when he realized what it was. God, I nearly died of embarrassment. But then her mom started laughing…and…well, that was right before we all started bawling so…”
He smiled sadly. “She was lucky to have you.”
“I was lucky to have her. And now she’s gone.”
She fell into a silence, one that was filled with a sadness so strong that Jacob could feel it building in the space between them, a heavy cloud of grief. He wanted to say something, something that would comfort her, something that would make her feel better. Anything. But the words didn’t come. And he knew why: They’d be hollow. Anything that he said to Meghan Reiner would be shallow comfort, empty words from a stranger who hadn’t known Veronica. So, he didn’t say anything.
But looking at her just then, solidified something in Jacob, filled him with anger so strong that he had to force his gaze away from her. I’m going to crucify you. The threat was silent, a promise to an unknown man that he’d pay for what he’d done, but Jacob meant every word.
Meghan looked up at the door and her face transformed, pulling Jacob from his thoughts for long enough that he could cast a look behind him. A tall, athletic-looking boy about her age was looking at them uncertainly, his eyes glancing from her to Jacob in confusion.
She waved. “That’s my boyfriend’s best friend, Luke. He’s probably wondering what I’m doing with a cute, old guy.”
Ouch.
Like a bucket of ice water over his head, her casual ribbing pulled him from his somber thoughts. She obviously saw him flinch because she giggled and flushed bright pink. “I meant old compared to us. No offense.”
“None taken,” he lied. I’m thirty-seven. Not that old.
When the young man came over to their table, Jacob stood. “Thanks for taking the time, Meghan.” He saw the way Luke’s eyes softened when he looked at her, noticed that they hardened perceptibly when his steel-gray gaze shifted towards Jacob. Whoever Meghan’s boyfriend was, Jacob hoped he knew that his best friend was in love with his girl.
“Sure thing.” She paused, caught her lip in-between her teeth nervously. “Could you…” She glanced at Luke, who nodded in encouragement. “Could you call me…if you find him? I want to be the one to tell Ronny’s parents when you nail the fucker.”
“Sure. I was just thinking that I can do that much for Ronny.” He nodded once to Luke and then stepped past him so that he could hurry to his next interview. He was meeting with Selma Holt’s employer so that he could run through the same questions with her.
Then he was going back to work to meet Captain Jimenez, Burns, and Williams. They had a lot to do. Whoever had killed the girls had been quiet for an entire week, something that Jacob knew was never a good sign. The longer the killer laid low, the colder the trail got, the harder he’d be to find. As much as he did not want another girl to die, he knew that the murderer had to slip up eventually if they were going to catch him. He just hoped that it was soon—and before he killed again.
When the knock sounded, she left her easel and carried the palette that was in her hand to the door. It was seven in the evening, which practically meant that it could only be Jacob. She felt her heart pick up its pace in her chest and gripped the palette tighter in her hand when her palms started to sweat. Really, she thought she’d have gotten used to him coming over every night. Instead, she now spent every afternoon glancing at the clock and counting down the hours until seven.
She pulled open the door, felt the smile on her face freeze when she saw that it was Matt who was standing outside, her mail in his hands. “Hey!” she said, trying desperately to cover her disappointment. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?” He handed her the mail and, with her paint palette still in one hand, she took it and threw it onto Jacob’s bed. Jacob’s bed! She balked, hurriedly stepped outside so that he didn’t come in. It would have been less than optimal if he thought that the man who was supposed to be her boyfriend slept on a blowup mattress instead of in her bed. She didn’t even know how she could lie her way out of that one.
She looked up at him, saw his frown right before he covered it with a casual smile. He was quite something to look at with big, baby-blues, and a broad chin that would make any woman double-take. A little on the skinny side, like a swimmer or a surfer. “I was hoping to run into you,” she said.
“You were?”
Because she could see the hope in his eyes, she rushed on with, “Yeah, you remember my friend, Sarah?”
He squinted and nodded his head subtly. “Little woman?” He indicated Sarah’s approximate height with his hand. “Redhead with a pile of hair, a ton of freckles, and a cute little overbite?”
“Exactly!” She was glad that he had used the word, ‘cute’ because it meant that he had noticed Sarah too. “Well, she’s going through a terrible break-up at the moment and I may have told her that Jake and I would take her on a double date. You know? To get her back in the game?”
It wasn’t a lie. Technically, Sarah had just gone through a breakup—it just wasn’t ‘terrible’ or heartbreaking. It was Sarah’s standard near-monthly routine of breaking up with her current beau because, in her words, ‘he just doesn’t get me’.
He sighed in a rush of air, as if he were winded, and rubbed the back of his neck.
God, please say yes.
“Ah…sure,” he answered finally. “I’d…love to. I guess.”
Oh, he hates the idea. “Thanks, Matt. You’d be doing me a solid favor…and I think that you’ll have a great time. Sarah is…your polar opposite.”
He barked out a short laugh. “And that’s a good thing?”
“I think it will be in this instance.”
“Alright,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “But only for you.”
“Thank you! I owe you one.”
She turned when a noise at the stairs caught her attention and Jacob stepped onto the top step. He smiled at her and her vision narrowed slightly. When his eyes flickered to Matt, she swallowed her guilt at having to lie and, instead, said, “Hey!”
“Hi, baby,” Jacob replied easily, clearly picking up her slight panic at having been caught in this particular predicament. “How was your day?”
When he was within a foot of her, he leaned in and gripped her wrist gently so that he could shift the paint palette away from his white shirt, kissed her fully on the lips. She met his eyes for only a moment, but for long enough that she saw the flicker of lust that reflected her response to the casual brushing of their lips.
He turned to Matt and, holding out his hand, said, “Jacob.”
“Matthew.”
Oh, God. “Ah, it was great. I’m almost done with Road at Midnight,” she offered, floundering at the awkwardness of the situation and desperately needing to fill the silence. “I think it’s going to be a hit in the new collection.” Even though she was telling the truth, the lie to Matt still sat uncomfortably with her. She didn’t want to hurt him. She wanted to let him down easy so that he thought it had been his idea all along.