MAX generated. As for the perp disguised as an old woman, that doesn't look good anymore. They talked to every old woman in the nursing home. All of them longtime residents. Damnation! Tell MAX he's got to do better.'
'Agreed,' Savich said. 'I'll get Sherlock back on the Rad-nich case with Ollie. I'll see you later.'
18
SHE PRAYED HER INVOLVEment in the String Killer case would be kept under wraps, and it had been, at least so far. She knew that Savich had spoken privately with Captain Dougherty and Ralph Budnack. If anyone blew the whistle on her, it wouldn't be one of them. So far no one in the media knew anything about her relationship to one of the victims of the String Killer. It would be a nightmare if anyone found out.
So far the FBI had gotten lots of good publicity: always a welcome circumstance for the continually besieged Bureau. Savich and his new FBI unit had brought down two killers in weeks. Reporters wanted to interview him, but he wasn't having any of it. No one was to speak to any reporters. Louis Freeh held a press conference, praising the work of the new Criminal Apprehension Unit. Savich had asked not to attend. Freeh had wanted him there but hadn't insisted.
She avoided Hannah Paisley, working closely with Ollie to get back into the Radnich case. She wasn't looking forward to the evening with Douglas, but it couldn't be helped.
Lacey dressed up that evening, wearing her hair loose, pulled back with two small gold combs, gold hoops in her ears that her mother had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday, a nice black dress that was classic enough to be two years old and still pass as current style, and three-inch heels. She felt strange in her different plumage and a bit exposed. But good. She felt really good. She realized at the last moment that Douglas could take it wrong. But there wasn't time to change.
The first thing Douglas said when he walked in was 'The
sling looks awful with that dress' and grinned at her. 'Don't you have several styles and colors to match different outfits?'
The evening was lighthearted and amusing until near dessert, when Douglas dropped his good humor and said, 'You've gotten what you wanted, Lacey. I want you to quit the FBI and come home. Surely you see that it's finally over, that it's your music that is important now. You nailed the guy who killed Belinda. Come home. Do what Belinda did. Come stay with me. I'll take care of you.'
She looked at him across the candlelit table, at the pure lines and angles of his face, and said simply, 'No.'
He drew back as if she'd punched him. 'I plan to divorce Candice. It will be done quickly, perhaps I can even get an annulment. It can be just you and me, Lacey, as I always wanted. Just give us time together, once I'm rid of Candice.'
He'd always wanted her? He'd never said a word to her until she'd joined the FBI and finished her training. Had he somehow gotten turned on because she was now a law officer? It didn't make sense to her. She was shaking her head even as she said again, 'No. I'm sorry, Douglas, but no.'
He said nothing more about it. When they were once again in her living room an hour later, she held out her hand to him, desperate for him to leave. 'Douglas, I had a lovely time tonight. Will I see you tomorrow?'
He didn't say anything, just jerked her against him. He kissed her hard, hurting her arm. She pushed at his chest but couldn't move him. 'Douglas,' she said against his mouth and felt his tongue push against her front teeth.
The doorbell rang. He still didn't release her, just kept grinding his mouth into hers. Her knee was almost in motion when she managed to jerk her head back far enough to call out, 'Who's there?'
'Let me in, Miss Sherlock.'
A woman. Who could she be?
Suddenly Douglas was two feet away from her, standing there looking bewildered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'It's Candice,' he said blankly, then walked to the door and opened it.
The woman standing there was no older than Lacey, with long honey-blond hair, nearly as tall as Douglas, and endowed with very high cheekbones that had to be a cameraman's dream. But it was her eyes that riveted Lacey. Dark, dark eyes that held fury, malice, and even more fury this instant than just the moment before. She looked ready to kill.
'Candice! What the hell are you doing here?'
'I followed you, Douglas. And you came here just like a little trained pigeon. I knew you'd come to her, even though I prayed you wouldn't. Damn you, I'd hoped our marriage meant something to you. Just look, you let her kiss you. You've got her lipstick on your mouth. Damn you, you smell like her.'
'Why should our marriage mean anything to me? You lied to me. You weren't pregnant.'
'We'll have children, Douglas. I'm just not ready yet. I'm just hitting my stride with my career. I could make it to one of the nationals, but not if I take off now. In another year, we can have a dozen kids if that's what you want.'
'That doesn't jibe with what you told me before we got married. Then you said you'd had a miscarriage and you were so upset. Now you don't want to get pregnant. You know what? I don't think you were ever pregnant at all.' Douglas turned to Lacey, waving a languid hand toward his wife. ' This is Candice Addams.'
'I'm your wife, Douglas. I'm Candice Madigan. She is your dead wife's sister. No, half sister. Nothing more. What are you doing here with her?'
He changed from one moment to the next. His bewilderment, his frustration, all were gone. He was standing tall and arrogant, a stance Lacey recognized, a stance that was second nature to him. It held power and control, and the control was of himself and of the situation. He was in a courtroom, in front of a jury, knowing he could manipulate, knowing he could convince, knowing he would win.
'Candice,' he said very patiently, as if speaking to an idiot witness, 'Lacey is part of my family. Just because Belinda died, I didn't cut her out of my life.'
'I saw you kissing her through the window, Douglas.'
'Yes,' he said quite calmly, 'I did. She's very innocent. She doesn't kiss well and I like that.'
It was another damned rabbit hole. Only this time, she wasn't going to slide in. 'I didn't want you to kiss me, Douglas. I wasn't kissing you at all.' Lacey turned to Candice. 'Mrs. Madigan, I think that you and Douglas should go discuss your problems. I have no part in any of it. Honestly, I don't.'
Candice smiled at her, stepped quickly around Douglas, and slapped her hard, whipping her head back.
A deep voice came from behind them. 'This appears to be very interesting, but I really can't allow anyone to smack my agents, ma'am. Don't do it again or I'll have to arrest you for hitting an officer.'
Lacey looked up to see Savich standing in the open doorway. This was all she needed. Did he have to show up whenever her life seemed to be flying out of control? It wasn't fair. She rubbed her hand over her face, then took a step back to stop herself from hurling herself on Candice. She was sorely tempted even though she doubted she could take her down, not with her arm in a sling. But she wanted to try.
'Sir,' she said, although she wanted to say 'Dillon.' No way was she going to use his first name in front of Douglas. It would be waving a red flag. 'What are you doing here? No, don't tell me. I've been elected the recreation meeting center for the evening. Do come in and close the door, sir, before a neighbor calls the cops.'
'I am the cops, ma'am.'
'Very well. Would anyone care for a cup of tea? A game of bingo?'
Douglas plowed his fingers through his hair. 'No, nothing, Lacey.' He turned to his wife. 'We have to talk, Candice. I am upset with you. I don't care at all for your behavior. Come along, now.'
Lacey and Savich watched them leave, their voices raised before they even reached the end of the driveway.
'I'll take some tea now,' Savich said.
Ten minutes later, she and Savich were drinking tea in the now blessedly empty living room.
'What are you doing here?'
'I was out running when I came by here. You had a hard day. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. The front door was open and I heard this woman yelling. How's your cheek?'
Lacey massaged her jaw. 'She's a strong woman. Actually it's a good thing you came in or else I might have jumped her. Then she might really have beaten me up, what with my broken wing. I'll call Chico tomorrow.'
'You called me 'sir' again.'
