In the Dark aka The Watcher

“This is a bedroom,” she said.

“A guest room,” Peter said. “Members outside the city stay here sometimes. Or men whose wives have kicked them out for the night. That’s why I prefer the single life.” He added, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to assault you, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I just thought we would both like some privacy.”

“Leave the door open.”

“Whatever you want.”

Peter took the armchair and worked on his drink. Tish sat uneasily on the sofa, her knees squeezed together. A few minutes later, George entered the room with a balloon-shaped wineglass and an open bottle. He set them on the table in front of her and poured, then gave her an imperious look and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.

“Do you want me to open it again?” Peter asked, nodding at the door.

Tish shrugged.

“Well, here we are,” he continued. “It’s been a long time. You’re looking good, Tish. Do you mind if I call you that?”

Tish shrugged again.

“You were sexy then, and you haven’t lost your appeal,” he told her, his eyes roving. “Real beauty matures with age, don’t you think?”

“If you say so.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to repay the compliment,” he said.

“You know you look good, so why do you need to hear it from me?”

Peter laughed. “Try the wine, Tish. It’s excellent.”

Tish did, and it was.

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve changed?” she asked.

“We all change. You’re different, I’m different.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I don’t care who you are now or how much money you have. It’s what you did thirty years ago that concerns me.”

Peter nodded. “You think I murdered Laura. You think I took a baseball bat and beat her head in.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I didn’t do that. How can I convince you I’m telling the truth?”

Tish took another drink of wine. It was fruity and light as helium. “You can’t. I already know you lied back then.”

“Oh?”

“Finn Mathisen saw you,” Tish snapped. “He saw you attack Laura in the field. The black man, Dada, he saved her. When Laura ran off, the bat was still in the field. It was still with you.”

“Finn Mathisen,” Peter murmured, shaking his head. “I haven’t thought about him in years. Him and his sister, Rikke. She was one of those tasty young teachers we all lusted after. Please, Tish. We both know what kind of witness Finn is. Pat Burns is never going to put someone on the stand who probably can’t remember most of the 1980s.”

“I don’t care what kind of witness he would make,” Tish said. “I’m writing a book, not doing a dance for a jury. What matters is that he’s telling the truth.”

“Say he is. That doesn’t mean I killed Laura.”

“Are you admitting you assaulted her?”

“I’m not admitting anything. However, even if I was stupid enough to think that no from a girl really meant yes just because my name was Peter Stanhope, do you think I would kill her over something like that?”

“Over not getting what you want? Yes, I do.”

“Well, you’re right, I don’t take rejection well,” Peter admitted. “You said no to me, and I called you a queer. As I recall, I kissed you and grabbed your tits. I was a pig.”

“Yes, you were.”

“But I didn’t kill you, did I? Because here you are.”

“Maybe you wanted Laura more than me.”

Peter’s smile faltered. His full lips twitched.

“Maybe you were obsessed with her,” Tish continued. “Maybe you were enraged that she didn’t want you.” She met his eyes and whispered, “Are you going to be alone tonight, you whore?”

His fingers clutched the tumbler so tightly that she thought the crystal might shatter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he did.

Tish knew that she was right. She swallowed down her loathing and drank more wine.

Peter stood up, stretching his legs. He caught his reflection in a brass mirror and dusted the broad lapels of his suit coat. His grin returned, more brightly than before. “I always wondered if you were upset that Laura found me attractive.”

“She didn’t.”

“You’re wrong about that. All the girls back then were interested in me. You were the exception. Or were you just playing hard to get?”

“Oh, please.”

“Is that why you didn’t like me dating your best friend?”

“Laura broke it off with you. She told me she did.”

“Ah, but are you sure she wasn’t lying? Maybe Laura didn’t want you to know what was really going on between us.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Tish snapped.

“I wonder what you would have done if you’d found out the truth,” he said. “I imagine you would have been very upset.”

“Are you finished?”

“I haven’t even begun. Don’t tangle with a lawyer, Tish.”

“I’m going to get you,” she insisted.

He laughed. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

She cringed, feeling on display as he watched her. His eyes glittered with lust that he didn’t bother hiding.

“The sad thing is, I’m telling you that I think you’re a murderer, and you still want to sleep with me.”

Peter sat down next to her on the sofa and took an oversized swallow of his scotch. Their legs touched. “True.”

“Are you that desperate?”

“I’m not desperate at all.”

“I picture you with a harem of twenty-something models,” Tish said.

“Sometimes.”

“So why come on to a woman in her late forties who thinks you’re the devil?”

“I’m not the devil. I thought you were finally beginning to find me charming.”

“Hardly.”

“Believe it or not, I like women who are mature. Strong. Independent. I don’t find many women who stand up to me.”

“So you’re saying that having a woman accuse you of murder turns you on.”

“I’ve heard worse accusations than that.” He grinned. “I think you’re lying, Tish. You do find me attractive. You always have.”