She's Not There - Madison Marla (читаем книги онлайн TXT) 📗
Though Jeff had been close to TJ all evening, he hadn’t been smothery, backing off now and then to let her do her own thing. She’d had a great time dancing to the old style rock with one of Eric’s mechanics. They’d even won the dance contest, dancing wildly to “Rock Around the Clock.” Her head still spun from getting tossed around, but she’d managed to keep up and not embarrass herself, thinking she’d danced damn well for an old broad. Not that thirty-three was old, but her partner looked barely out of his teens.
Wondering if Jeff would find her for the midnight dance, TJ stood near the bar, imagining what it would be like to kiss him at the stroke of twelve. She scoped the room, looking for him.
At that moment, Richard walked in with a date.
Irritated, she wondered why Eric hadn’t warned her. The woman next to Richard looked nearly his age and wore her dark hair straight, falling to her shoulders just above the scooped neck of a long, black dress. Richard wore a tux; they’d obviously come from another event. Funny they hadn’t stayed there until midnight.
So what if he’s here? She didn’t give a rat’s ass, and she didn’t want Jeff to think it bothered her to see Richard with a date.
Her heart stopped. Standing next to Richard was James Wilson with Claire at his side. TJ froze in place while time stood still. In the background, the crowd began to chant. “Fifty-five, fifty-four…”
She had to get out; she couldn’t be in the same room with the murdering freak—not on New Year’s Eve. And she wasn’t sure she was a good enough actress to remain visibly unmoved by his presence.
“Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen…”
TJ grabbed her coat and hurried out into the frigid night air.
On the dance floor, the countdown reached midnight. Couples embraced, kissed, threw confetti, and sang along to “Auld Lang Syne.” On the dance floor with Eric, Lisa enjoyed his kiss as the clock struck midnight, disappointed when the couple next to them pulled them apart. She hated the tradition of being passed from person to person at midnight, and quickly edged through the crowd headed for the ladies room.
Shannon rushed in behind her. “Lisa! Did you see who came in?”
“No. What are you talking about?”
“Just before midnight—Richard Conlin and James Wilson came in. With dates!” She stopped to let Lisa process the news.
Lisa gaped. “Conlin and Wilson. Do you know if TJ’s seen them yet?”
“Probably. She took off—didn’t even wait until midnight. I think Jeff went after her.”
Eric hadn’t mentioned inviting Conlin and Wilson. Lisa wondered why he hadn’t been more sensitive to TJ’s feelings. Lisa knew TJ hadn’t left because of Richard; Wilson was a shrewd bastard, and the last thing they needed was for him to have even a hint of their suspicions. Lisa took a deep breath and went back to the party.
She found Richard Conlin standing near the dance floor with a dark-haired woman in a black gown. Ignoring the woman, she asked, “Can I have a minute?”
He stepped away from his date. “What can I do for you, Ms. Rayburn?”
“Rather tacky of you to be here, don’t you think?”
“Not that it’s any of your business what I do, but TJ and I aren’t together anymore.”
Lisa snickered. “That’s a poor excuse for acting like a jerk with no concern for anyone but himself.” She’d been about to add a few more choice words when James Wilson and Claire approached them. Dismissing Richard with an icy look, she turned and walked away, wondering when Conlin and Wilson had become double-dating buddies.
Heart pounding with anger, she found Eric. “Eric, I’m curious why you invited Richard Conlin and James Wilson.”
He looked at her quizzically. “I didn’t. Claire Thornton’s uncle is a customer here. Claire comes every year. Did you know her father’s Milwaukee’s police chief?”
“I do, but what does that have to do with anything?”
He studied her, frowning. “I had no idea Conlin and Wilson would be here. Claire’s uncle is invited every year. I don’t question who he might bring, or pass an invite to. I’m sorry if TJ’s upset. I’ll explain it to her.”
The frigid air hit TJ like a blast from a fire-hose as she fled the party and ran for her car. Used to spending nights in a heated garage, it balked as she tried to start it. After a few failed attempts, she saw Jeff standing next to the car and opened the door.
“What’s wrong?”
Shivering, she stepped out and slammed the door shut.
Jeff put his arm around her. “If you’re sure you want to leave, I’ll drive you home.”
His car warmed up quickly, the heated seat toasty on TJ’s cold butt. He hadn’t questioned her, which had given her time to have an explanation ready. They were nearly to the interstate when he pulled over and stopped the car. “Happy New Year.”
TJ leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy New Year, yourself.” Not very romantic.
Jeff pulled back into the traffic. “Do you want to talk about it? You must be upset about Richard—I saw him come in.”
TJ felt torn. She couldn’t tell him about Wilson and didn’t want him to think she was pining for Richard. “It was just a shock, seeing him with another woman. I’m not upset.”
“TJ, come home with me tonight. You can stay in the guest room. I don’t think you should be alone.”
She didn’t want to be alone, but not because of Richard. “Sure you’re not the one who doesn’t wanna be alone?”
He sighed. “I have my own baggage tonight, you know that. But the party helped me forget about it.”
Baggage. He had no clue to the heaviness of the trunk-load she carried. When he turned off the interstate at the Brookfield exit and drove toward his townhouse, she was grateful he’d made the decision for her.
At nearly two, TJ crawled into the bed in Jeff’s guest room. After a half hour of switching positions under the thick down quilt, she got up and went to the kitchen in search of milk. Finding a half-empty bottle, she gave it a sniff test. Heating some in the microwave, she carried it with her to a big recliner. The chair was comfortable, the milk soothing, and by the time she’d finished it, her eyes started to close. She eased the chair back into full recline, and nodded off.
She woke when she felt a blanket being spread over her. Jeff stood next to the chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”
He looked so cute with his hair mussed and wearing only a pair of red-plaid pajama bottoms. TJ crawled out of the chair. Wordlessly, she took his hand and led him to her bed.
63
James despised New Year’s Eve, although tonight he’d enjoyed being with Claire. When he’d turned to her at midnight, she kissed him, but he’d felt the gulf between them.
That party—all those people dressed up like teenagers, pretending the year to come would be better than the last. Pathetic. He’d seen that smug bitch, Lisa Rayburn, dancing with big-shot Schindler, and censured himself once more for mistaking the Ventura woman for her.
Richard hadn’t wanted to come to Schindler’s party, and James had seen him looking over his date’s shoulder for Ms. Peacock. Something about TJ had always rankled James. That whole bunch thought they knew how to investigate the missing women, but they had no proof of foul play. They’d done their meaningless little bit of damage. He was confident the police wouldn’t find anything new, so why let them get to him?
After he took Claire home–she didn’t ask him in anymore—he couldn’t unwind. His hatred of Lisa Rayburn and her band of pseudo-sleuths kept eating at him, and the urge to resume his hobby clung to him like a cloak of leeches. He needed a new subject.
Risky or not, it had to be one of them.
