“How do you know?”
“Because I know.”
“That’s no answer.”
“Move, Doc.”
“They could slit your throat.”
“Not their style.”
“What do you know about their style?”
“More than I want to.”
“You’ve had confrontations with them before?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“I knew who they were, but until today, we hadn’t met. They’re my neighbors.”
“Which you claimed not to have.”
“Yeah, well, I lied about that.”
“How close do they live from here?”
“I don’t have time to go into it now. Move out of my way before they come to see what’s taking me so long.”
He tried to go around her, but she side-stepped to block him.
“You’ve been using the icy roads as your excuse for keeping me here.”
“They’re still treacherous. Which is why that damn heap crashed into the tree.”
“Then why are you driving them home?”
“Because it’s too far for the girl to walk.” He reached behind her, lifted his key ring off the hook, and dropped it into his coat pocket.
She grabbed his sleeve. “You can’t leave me here.”
For the first time since coming back inside, he paused to really look at her, then, with a sudden move, dropped the pillowcase and closed his hands around her head. He ran his gloved thumb across her lower lip.
“I swore to myself I wouldn’t touch you. But I wish like hell I’d fucked you anyway.”
Then he bracketed her hips between his hands and forcibly moved her aside. “Stay out of sight until we’re gone. If they come back in place of me, shoot the sons of bitches and ask questions later.” In one fluid motion, he bent to pick up the pillowcase, opened the door, and left.
* * *
Following his interview with the detectives, Jeff was banished to the chaotic lobby, where the floor had been tracked with muddy, melting ice. He’d eaten a snack from a vending machine and washed it down with bitter, tepid coffee, also from a machine. He’d then claimed a vacant chair and camped in it, so to speak, while he waited for something to happen.
The longer he sat there, the angrier he became.
He had called in sick to his secretary earlier, but he was reconsidering whether or not he should notify his boss and tell him where he actually was and what was going on. But he talked himself out of that, deciding there was no sense in sounding an alarm until the situation called for it.
Alice had been worried about Emory yesterday afternoon. By now, she would be climbing the walls. He knew he should call her, but talked himself out of that, too. It would look bad if Knight and Grange discovered that he’d contacted his illicit lover while his wife was unaccounted for.