Package Deal(93)

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I’ve been mulling over some information I have to share with you, but not with Cecelia around. Isn’t she with the scouts this weekend?”

“Yes. I just got back from delivering the food. I’m going back tomorrow. What was it you wanted to share?”

“I need to deliver this news in person. May I come over?”

She looked at the clock. “It’s getting late. I’ll put on some coffee.”

Fifteen minutes later, Marcus was at her door.

She had rearranged the furniture in the living room, changing the look of the room. When he looked around, she explained. “I didn’t want it to remind Cece of what happened here.”

He nodded. “Good idea. Does she like it this way?”

“As a matter of fact, she does.” She sat down on the couch. “So, tell me this news you have.”

“I found some things at Carl’s apartment that I sent to the Madison police a while back. They seem to think he killed an eight-year-old girl. A cold case they hadn’t closed.”

She gasped. “Oh, my God.”

He picked up her hands and held them. “I’ve been sitting on this information for a couple of days. I had to tell you, you deserved to know. And I have the name of one of the detectives who was working on that case—if we ever see Carl around here again. I wish he were in custody. I worry about other children he might try to hurt.”

She began to shake.

Marcus put his arms around her. “That’s how I feel, too. And that’s why I want to talk to Cecelia about us, about the three of us. I think she’d be safer at my house. We could arrange our schedules so one of us is always with her when she’s there. You know, on days when she doesn’t have scouts or a soccer game after school.” He kissed the spot on her throat where her pulse throbbed. “Do you think she’ll talk to me now? It’s been weeks since … weeks,” his voice trailing off.

She looked into his eyes, eyes that so reminded her of her daughter’s. “I think so. She told me the other day she likes it that you come to her soccer games, and when you cheer for her, but she doesn’t want you to know that. I think part of her wants you back in her life, but she is conflicted—still—about what we did and what it means.”

He nodded and caressed her arms.

“She’s told me several times that she doesn’t want Sam’s mom calling me bad names. I think that’s part of it. And she’s afraid if other people knew what you—where you—what we did, Sam won’t be allowed to come over anymore. I was going to talk with Joan about it, but I haven’t done that yet. I need to.”

He frowned. “I wrote Cece a letter, but I haven’t—she still hasn’t sent me an answer.”

Amanda rubbed her fingers across his forehead, smoothing the skin that he had furrowed moments before. “I was going to ask her about it. I’m sorry I forgot.” She kissed his cheek.

“Is she still having nightmares?” He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Not for a while. The day, that night, after Evan put his hands on her shoulders, she wouldn’t sleep in her own bed—insisted on snuggling with me, even after I told her she couldn’t let Skipper onto my bed. The next day she told me she didn’t like feeling that she couldn’t get away from him. I told her he was just trying to be friendly and didn’t know his own strength. She seemed to accept that. By the next day, she acted like she’d forgotten all about it.”

“Has he tried anything since then?” He nibbled her earlobe. “His office is just down the hall from yours.” His lips grazed her cheek, then her lips, once, twice.

“No. I made it very clear he was never to touch her and not to come into my office if she was there alone. And, Beatrice is good about inviting Cece to stay with her if she comes over when I’m still in class. Cece loves to watch her using that big printer in her office.”

“I’m glad that’s working out.” He deepened his kiss and she responded with a tiny catch of her breath. “I miss not being able to do this. I want to kiss you every day, every hour of the day, all night long,” he murmured.

“Marcus, we better not or you know where it will lead.”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it, hon.” He grinned.

She reached over and turned out the light before pulling him toward her. She began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time, her pulse climbing each time he kissed her. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.” They walked up the stairs together. She smiled at the irony of her response.