Next to Die by Marliss Melton Page A

said. “Do you want to come in?”
    “I’m all wet.”
    “Please,” she insisted, opening the door wider.
    She found a pair of Nikko’s sweatpants, long enough to fit him, and threw Joe’s slacks into the dryer. Then she and Joe sat across from each other in the dining room, where he spooned down the soup she insisted on feeding him. The boys poked their head out of the bedroom, but she shooed them away.
    She waited for Joe to finish eating before demanding, “Tell me what happened.”
    He told her everything, not withholding the fact that he’d taken Chief Harlan’s place. He braced himself for accusations, but they never came. She remained stoic right up to the point where he related how Nikko had passed out from lost blood, dragging Curry down with him. As the rest of his story unfolded, her brown eyes filled with tears.
    “Then he never knew what happened,” she concluded, reaching for a napkin to cover her trembling lips.
    “No, he never knew.”
    Her face contorted with grief as she nodded her understanding. Joe’s composure slipped. The lump in his throat ached unbearably.
    “Thank you for telling me.”
    Her gratitude shook him. His eyes burned. His vision blurred with tears. “I’m sorry,” he added, appalled to hear his voice crack. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him.”
    “It wasn’t your fault,” she reassured him, her eyes benign with forgiveness. Then she reached across the table and seized his hand, holding it fast. “Don’t blame yourself,” she added. “He died doing what he loved.”
    Her acceptance humbled him. He couldn’t stop the tears that poured from his eyes.
    Victoria offered him the guest room for the night, but Joe declined. Leaving an hour later in his dried slacks, he felt as if he’d been cut free from an enormous weight.
    As he eased into his car with the intent of finding a motel, he spared a thought for Penny.
    You were right, Lieutenant. That was good for me.
     
    Joe was back.
    Penny parked her car in front of her house and smiled at the lascivious-looking jack-o’-lanterns glowing across the darkness at her. He’d faced them deliberately in the direction of her home so she wouldn’t miss seeing them.
    Apology accepted, Commander.
Happiness warmed her like a flame as she peered into his windows, wondering how his trip had gone. A bluish flicker told her that the TV was on. But then she caught sight of a second vehicle parked behind his Jeep, and her happiness disintegrated. The green Volkswagon belonged to yet another one of his girlfriends.
    He was back in action. Well, she sighed, it beats drinking himself into a stupor.
    Yet loneliness enveloped her as she gathered her groceries from her trunk and carried them into her dark and empty home. Lia hadn’t left a single light on when she left for work.
    Dumping grocery bags on the kitchen counter, Penny went to hang her jacket in the closet. Was it too much to ask to find a helpful husband, someone with whom to share life’s everyday burdens, to snuggle with on the couch? She pictured Steven Parks, the surgeon who’d eaten lunch with her every day last week. He’d promised to call her this weekend, but he hadn’t yet. Perhaps he’d called while she was out.
    She hastened to the kitchen to check her answering machine. The flashing light had her pulse accelerating. “You have one new message,” announced the digitalized voice. The machine gave a beep, but no one spoke. The sound of heavy breathing chased away Penny’s expectations.
    Eric was at it again. To her amazement, he began to talk. “W-w-why’re doin’ this? Why? You’re gonna . . . end up d-d-d-dead, like your father!” The phone clicked, and the digitalized voice on Penny’s machine said, “End of call.”
    Penny could only stand there, rocked by the heavy beating of her heart. But then she realized the recording was just the evidence they needed.
    She snatched up the phone to alert the authorities. Special Agent Lindstrom’s business