Jess tried to smile, but she knew it couldn’t look very sincere. “I know he was worried, but it’s really unnecessary.”
Frank nodded, staring at the TV screen. The Red Sox were in the field, and they successfully completed a double play, but it didn’t seem to register with him.
“You see today’s paper?” he suddenly asked.
Jess shook her head. “No,” she replied. “It’s probably still outside. Why?”
“Well, the news, as they say down here in the south, ain’t good.”
Jess stood up and opened the front door. She pushed the screen and went outside. She grabbed the paper from where it lay on the lawn, and went back in. Leaning on the door to close it, she looked at the headlines—”Sarasota Killer Strikes!”
“Oh, not again,” she said. Quickly she skimmed the article, then looked up in shock at Frank. “Oh, my Lord,” she said. “This happened right on the next block over. Last night.”
“The police think he’s the same man,” Frank told her, his face serious. “This makes his fourteenth time.”
“’The victim was found with her throat cut,’” Jess read, revulsion in her voice, “’bound with a rope.’ Do they give the woman’s name?”
“I didn’t get a chance to read the article yet,” Frank answered.
“Dear Lord,” Jess said, still reading. The police had identified the murder weapon as some sort of knife, probably a switchblade, at least five inches long. The coroner’s report led them to believe he was right-handed, judging from the size and shape of the wound. Jess shuddered, holding her hand up to her own neck. “The police aren’t releasing any information regarding suspects. I wish they would catch this guy.”
“Sometimes they never catch them.” Frank shook his head. “There’s an awful lot of sickos out there, Jess. I guess that’s why Rob wanted me to stay at his place, particularly since you seem to believe someone’s following you. He thinks you fit the description of the victims pretty accurately, and I must say I agree. He thought you’d be safer with a man next door, but I realize that the decision’s yours. I don’t want to step on your toes.”
Jess smiled weakly. What she really wanted was for Rob to come back…. “Well,” she said slowly. “I do appreciate the offer, but I can’t ask you to leave your own apartment. Rob told me you’ve got a nice place down by the marina.”
Frank shrugged. “It’s okay. And really, I wouldn’t mind. I’m a big fan of yours—I’d like to be able to hear you practice. And I truly would love the company. It would be a nice change of pace. I’ve been living alone for way too long.”
Jess looked at Frank carefully. His blandly handsome face was open and his smile seemed genuine. What is it with you, Jess, she scolded herself. You spent too many years with Ian, that’s what. It was time she started believing her own words. A friendly smile was just that—a friendly smile. Nothing more.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “Except, welcome to the neighborhood.”
“EVENIN’, MISS JESS.”
Jess looked up in surprise, and the ball Kelsey was throwing to her bounced out of her hands.
“Oh, hi, Stan,” she said, scooping the ball up and tossing it back to Kelsey.
Under the watchful eyes of his wheelchair-bound father, Stanford Greene was cutting the hedges that grew along the fence that separated their two yards.
“Looks like you’ve got a visitor,” Stanford informed her, gesturing with his head toward the driveway.
Jess’s heart leapt. Maybe it was Rob. Maybe…
It was Ian. He climbed out of his car and staggered slightly as he headed toward her. Perfect. He was drunk again.
“Kel, go inside,” Jess said to her daughter. “Bonus TV time.”
Kelsey was inside the house so quickly, the banging screen door was the only sign that she’d once been there.
Jess tried to brace herself as she waited for Ian to approach. It was going to be hard—she’d spent most of the day unable to keep herself from thinking about Rob. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks now. Until Rob came back and took his things from the apartment, Jess would be unable to move forward with her life, unable to fully recover from the pain of her broken heart.
Lately Jess was in a foul, black mood. Everyone and everything got on her nerves—even Kelsey. And Frank. Especially Frank. He came over every evening, without fail. He’d drone on and on about his day at work. Sometimes Jess didn’t hear even a single word.
She felt guilty for being so impatient and annoyed with Frank. He was doing her a favor by staying in Rob’s apartment. As much as she hated to admit it, she did feel safer knowing that he was there. And he’d gone out of his way to do her favors—he’d even lent her money to cover Rob’s rent when the first of the month rolled around and Rob still was in Orlando.
“I was downtown,” Ian said to Jess in place of a greeting, “and everywhere I turned, there were women who looked just like you. It was driving me half insane.”
“I’m not interested in talking to you when you’re drunk,” she said evenly, moving toward the house.
Ian blocked her way. “But I’m interested in talking to you,” he replied.
Jess tried to move past him, but he moved with her. She looked up to see both Stanford and his father watching with unabashed curiosity. Despite the audience, words like court and deadbeat dad and restraining order were on the tip of her tongue.
But Frank pulled into the driveway. He came out of his car, talking about the World Series. “You planning on watching the game tonight, Ian?” he asked easily.
Before Jess knew it, Frank invited both Ian and Stanford Greene up to Rob’s apartment to watch the baseball game that had just started. “I’d invite you too, Jess,” Frank said. “But I know you were planning to take Kelsey to the movies tonight.”
She hadn’t been, but she got the message.
She fixed a quick dinner of pasta, then took Kelsey to a seven o’clock showing of Beauty and the Beast at the local library. They’d both seen the movie several times before, but neither of them minded.
And when they returned home, Ian’s car was gone.
As Jess got Kelsey ready for bed, she made a mental note to thank Frank for his intervention. He was a nice guy.
But he wasn’t Rob.
Rob…
Jess knew that she had to put an ad in the paper, listing the apartment for rent, but she’d put off doing it. Taking endless phone calls and showing the apartment to strangers wasn’t any fun. But she was procrastinating for another reason, too. Deep in her heart, she was hoping that he would return from Orlando, take her into his arms, kiss her, and tell her that he’d been wrong.
Dream on.
Jess kissed Kelsey good-night, then went out onto the deck to gaze up at the hazy stars.
A far more likely scenario was that Rob would return and he would avoid her like the plague. If he did run into her, it would be awkward and uncomfortable. He’d move his things out of the apartment as quickly as possible, and she’d never see him again.
She knew that was probably what was going to happen. So why did her foolish heart leap every time a gray Taurus drove past her house?
Even as she stood there, a car like Rob’s turned onto the street. She could feel her eyes straining to make out the driver through the windshield, but it was too dark to see. The car drove past.
Why did she do this to herself?
Because she was a ninny, that’s why. Because Rob had been gone for nearly two weeks, and according to Frank, the project in Orlando was nearly complete. He could return at any time.
And then he’d be gone for good.
Jess felt her eyes flood with tears, and blindly, she turned to go into the house—and ran headlong into Frank.
He caught her in his arms, to keep her from falling. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, hey—are you crying?”
“No,” she said, pulling away.
But he followed her. “Yes, you are,” he said. “What’s wrong?�
�
Jess shook her head, trying to wipe her tears away. “I’m fine.”
“It’s Rob, isn’t it?” Frank said quietly, guessing correctly. It wasn’t such a tough call—these days she was wearing her heart in full view on her sleeve. “You guys were…involved for a while, weren’t you?”
Jess sat down on one of the deck chairs, hugging her knees to her chest. “Yeah,” she said. “We were.” She sighed. “Past tense.”
Frank sat down on the chair next to her. He hiked up the legs of his pants, and his brown nylon socks showed. He looked faintly ridiculous sitting that way. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
“Me, too,” Jess said. “I thought…”
“What?” he prompted.
She looked up into Frank’s sympathetic hazel eyes. “I thought he was the one.”
“The one?”
She smiled ruefully. “You know. That one special person I’ve been waiting for all of my life… God, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”
“It’s not stupid,” Frank said. He picked up a leaf that had fallen onto the chair and fiddled with it.
Jess closed her eyes, leaning her head back. “Thanks for helping tonight with Ian,” she said. “You know, Rob thought I should get a restraining order and—”
“You know, Jess,” Frank interrupted, “I was thinking. Maybe I could be the one.”
Jess opened her eyes and looked at him.
He tore the leaf in half and let the pieces flutter down onto the deck. When he glanced up at her, his eyes were serious.
Jess chose her words very carefully. “It doesn’t just work that way,” she said. “It’s not something that you can just decide to feel and then—”
“Why not?” Frank asked. He stood up, straightening his pants. “At least think about it,” he added.
JESS AND KELSEY stood at the counter at the Sarasota Music Center, waiting for the clerk to notice them and ring up the strings Jess needed for her acoustic guitar. Looking into the glass-enclosed shelves by the cash register, Kelsey pointed to a collection of temporary tattoos, nestled among the Grateful Dead jewelry and the Nirvana bumper stickers.
“I want one of those,” she announced.
Jess looked down and grinned. “Which one?” The dragon with gore dripping from its wickedly sharp teeth, or the skull with a snake entwined through its eyes and nose?
“The dragon.”
Did she know her daughter!
“I don’t think so, Kel. We’re still too tight for cash this week.”
Kelsey chewed her lower lip. “But it would look so good on you.”
“On me?” Jess laughed. “Oh, no thanks—”
“Oh, definitely,” came an all too familiar voice. “But not the dragon.”
Kelsey stood very still, seeming to shrink, and Jess braced herself, looking up at Ian’s mocking face.
Naturally, because her ex-husband was the illustrious concert master of the SSO, the clerk came over immediately. “Can I help you, Mr. Davis?”
Ian leaned an elbow on the glass, directly on the sign that asked customers not to lean on the glass counter. “Yes. I’ll take one of those tattoo things. Yeah, this one.” He pointed down into the case. “Put it on my account.”
The clerk handed him the small package and, with a flourish, Ian presented it to Jess. “A rose for the lady,” he said.
Jess didn’t move. “Charming, Ian,” she said. “Very charming.” She bent down to Kelsey. “Do me a favor, Bug,” she said quietly. “Go hang out right over there by the sheet music while I talk to Ian, okay? Stay right there, where I can see you.”
Kelsey nodded, and Jess watched her move out of earshot. She handed the sales clerk a ten-dollar bill for the guitar strings and waited until he walked to the cash register before she turned to her ex-husband. “I’ve been waiting seventeen months for a child support check from you,” she said softly. “Believe me, if I had any choice, I wouldn’t mention it, but the clutch is starting to go on the car again, and…” Jess clenched her teeth, hating this humiliation. “And here I am, resorting to begging, dammit.”
“Borrow the money from your new boyfriend,” Ian said coldly, flipping the rose tattoo onto the counter in front of her.
“I don’t care about the alimony payments,” Jess stated. “I never wanted that in the first place. That was your idea. But child support… Ian, she’s your daughter, too.”
“Is she?”
Jess bristled. “You know damn well she is. I was never unfaithful to you. You were the one who had the affairs, remember?”
“You were the one who kicked me out,” Ian said. His icy blue eyes glittered. He leaned forward, and she felt his wild, long hair brush against her cheek as he whispered in her ear, “You want money from me? Let me move back in. Get rid of the new boyfriend—what’s his name? Frank?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Give him half a chance and he will be,” Ian replied. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you—like you’re to die for. And you know, maybe he’s right.”
Jess flashed him a sour look and stepped away from him, taking her change and the bag with the guitar strings that the clerk had left on the counter. “Come on, Kel,” she called out, heading for the door.
“I saw the old boyfriend downtown this morning,” Ian informed her mockingly.
Jess stopped short, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest.
“Good old Rob,” Ian said in that same, sarcastic tone. “I was driving on Bee Ridge Road, going to the video store actually, and there he was, putting gas into his car at the Mobil station. That affair certainly didn’t last very long, did it?”
Taking Kelsey’s hand, Jess left the store.
Chapter Ten
Jess finished tuning her guitar, then looked around the small nightclub. It was spacious, airy even, with hundreds of potted plants hanging down in front of the walls of windows. The small stage was across from the bar. Tables covered with checkered cloths dotted the floor. Yes, this was a nice place. Terry Kitchen, the popular Boston folksinger that Jess was warming up for, actually had several CDs out on Urban Campfire records. This gig was very legitimate. And she couldn’t wait to hear Terry Kitchen’s set. That was one of the perks of doing a warm-up gig like this. Jess got to hear quality music for free.
As she slipped her guitar into the stand, she heard a voice call out her name.
From behind the bar, a familiar figure waved to her.
“Pete,” Jess said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
The bartender that she knew from the Pelican Club leaned on the bar as she approached. His mouth was upturned in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze took her in, as if memorizing her outfit. Blue jeans, black tank top, black cowboy boots, Navajo silver necklace.
“Moonlighting,” he replied. “I know the owner of this club, so I asked to work tonight.”
It had been weeks since she’d last seen Pete. She hadn’t spotted his dark blue sedan following her since that day on the beach. Her earlier suspicions had been just that—suspicions. Pete wasn’t the Sarasota Serial Killer. He was just a stern-looking guy who happened to like her music. And her running into him at the gas station had been a coincidence. Nothing more.
“How have you been?” Jess asked.
“Busy,” he replied. “I’ve been out of town for a couple of weeks.”
Jess’s optimistic confidence took a serious nosedive. She hadn’t seen Pete following her because he’d been out of town. Come to think of it, the serial killer hadn’t struck in the past two weeks either….
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” Jess murmured.
“Your daughter here tonight?” he asked.
Jess shook her head. “She’s at the baby-sitter’s.” She didn’t want to talk about Kelsey. All of her suspicions were back, full force, and she didn’t want this man even thinking about her daughter.
Rob had urged h
er to call the police, but she hadn’t. When there had been no further sign that she was being followed, she’d forgotten. But what would she say now, if she called? “I think the Sarasota Serial Killer is tending bar tonight at the Rose Café?” That would go over real well.
“Excuse me,” Jess said, moving away from the bar and Pete’s disturbing gray eyes.
The club was filling up, and as she moved through the tables she saw several familiar faces. She stopped to say hello to a jazz piano player she knew from years back, and when she turned to continue on across the room, she came face-to-face with him.
Rob.
He looked uncomfortable, as if he’d hoped to sneak past without being seen.
“You’re back,” Jess said unnecessarily. He looked tired. And nervous. Thinner, as if he’d lost some weight.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m back. I’m…actually here because I needed to talk to Frank. His voice mail said he’d be down here tonight.”
In other words, he wasn’t here to see Jess. She nodded tightly. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”
She turned away.
“Jess.”
She stopped walking, but didn’t turn to face him.
“You look good,” he said.
She’d looked in the ladies’ room mirror just a few minutes ago, and tired, lonely and sad had looked back at her. Not “good.” She shook her head and headed for the stage.
IT WAS A MISTAKE for him to have come here. It was torture seeing her again.
He should have gone to the apartment and moved his stuff out. It was the perfect opportunity—Rob knew Jess would be out for most of the evening. He could have packed up his things and been gone—without running into her ever again.
Except something had drawn him here. Some strange force had pulled him out in this direction. It had nothing to do with needing to talk to Frank. In fact, despite what he’d said to Jess, he easily could have waited to see Frank at the office in the morning.
No, it was the idea of seeing Jess again that had led him here. So, okay. He’d seen her. He’d even spoken to her. She looked… fine. Had he really expected her to look devastated or even heart-broken?
No Ordinary Man Page 12
