But who else? Was it just acoincidence? A murderer was out there on the loose. "I don'tknow," she mumbled. "I have no idea, but I've never been soterrified. I'm a basket case as it is, then this happens." She looked upat Jeff, still standing there with the phone in his hands, looking concernedand anxious.
"You want me to stay heretonight?"
She considered that. She hated toseem weak and helpless, but damn, she was scared. "Yes," shewhispered. "Would you mind?"
"Of course not. I'll sleep onyour couch."
"Thank you. Do... Would you likesome coffee or something?"
"Yeah. Sure."
He stayed with her while she madesome tea for them, both of them knowing sleep was going to be impossible.
"Tomorrow I'm going to get analarm system installed," she told him. "I've been so nervous ever since..."
He nodded. "That's a greatidea. A single woman living alone should have an alarm system. Youshould've done that when you moved in here."
"Yeah. I should have." Shehatedfeeling like this. She was a strong, independent, fun-loving woman reducedto a teeth-chattering, stuttering child.
The Super Seven Motel was cheap, buthe barely had enough money for one more night, despite his new job.
He lay on the bed, staring at theceiling in the dark.
Rage simmered in him, building andbubbling. He was not used to things being so tough for him. Marli was beingdifficult. It was pissing him off.
Some guy had come racing to herrescue! Jesus, after she'd been cock-teasing in the bar all night, she hadanother man at home. What a slut she was.
He'd been so sure she'd lived alone,didn't have a boyfriend. He narrowed his eyes.
She'd been at Cactus Jack's the lasttwo nights in a row. Chances were good she'd be there again tonight. And sowould he. He'd find a way to get her on her own.
She had to pay for what she'd done.
He imagined again how it would be.He imagined first bringing her here, to his motel room. Then he played thewhole scenario through again, this time in her home. He imagined what it lookedlike...classy, expensive. Like her. He imagined her laughter and sneeringturning to fear and disbelief. The fear in her eyes would get him going, incitehim. Excitement rose in him even as he imagined it.
He'd take her first, thrust hardinto her while she writhed beneath him, trying to fight him off. He knew shewould try to fight, and he could already feel the adrenaline rush ofcontrolling her. He'd hurt her...slap her, punch her...his imagination roamedfor different ways to inflict pain on her. He'd enjoy every minute of herluscious terror, her screaming and begging him to stop. She would be one he'dneed to tie up. He smiled.
He'd make her sorry she'd laughed athim, mocked him for being a cowboy. She'd be sorry she walked away from him.
Then he'd kill her.
Marli had to beg the alarm companyto come that day, and the tears making her voice wobbly weren't forced when shetold them about the attempted breakin the night before. She waited at home allday, doors locked, blinds closed. She'd had to cancel a shoot, rescheduling itfor next week, and the client was not happy.
She tried to focus on work in herhome office, invoicing and doing her books, the part of owning her own businessthat she hated. Not only was she jolted by every little noise she heard--everycar that pulled up on the street, every creak, even the refrigerator motorgoing on and off--but thoughts of Trey kept tugging her thoughts away from herwork. She recalled the humor in his eyes as they talked and laughed, the wayhe'd looked at her with hot desire he was keeping carefully banked because heknew she was nervous.
Was she going to go back to CactusJack's tonight?
He'd told her not to. He'd told herto forget about that crazy idea and let the cops deal with it. But he didn'tunderstand. He didn't understand how the guilt was eating away at her. Shecouldn't even say the words out loud, admit to someone else that she wasresponsible for her friend's death. That was just too hard, too horrendous. Itwas...unspeakable.
She had to go. For Krista.
He wasn't there.
Marli found a seat at the bar, butit wasn't where she preferred to sit. She was later getting there than theother evenings and almost every stool at the bar was taken. Oh, well, she couldmove later.
She gazed around, sipping her DietCoke. Trey had, no doubt, gone on to San Francisco. He wasn't willing to helpher and, although they both knew they were attracted to each other, she'd madeit pretty clear to him she had no intention on acting on the attraction, sohe'd probably just moved on.
She had other more important thingsto worry about. Again, her eyes scanned the crowds, stopping on every big,blond man there to study him. Disappointment and anxiety battled within her.
With a sigh, she looked down at herdrink. It was going to be a long evening.
She watched people come and go,politely refused offers of drinks and invitations to dance, sitting there byherself on her barstool. By midnight, she'd had enough. She left a tip for thebartender who'd brought her the single Diet Coke she'd drank all evening andsnagged her purse from where it hung on the back of the stool.
Outside the bar, the dark chill ofevening shrouded her. She hugged her purse close and wrapped her arms aroundherself as she walked to her car in the parking garage. The attendant on dutyin his little lit-up booth read a magazine. Were there security cameras? Shemade sure to walk by him so he'd know she was going to her car, just in case.But her car was up two levels and she had to take the stairs to get there.
She dreaded going into thestairwell. Why was she doing this to herself? She pulled open the
