Brazen Virtue

house. He’d never felt better in his life. His blood was pumping, his heart was hammering. Desiree was waiting for him, to take him beyond the mortal into forever.
    Renockie drank coffee in the living room while Grace played with hers and watched the clock. Where was Ed? Why didn’t he call?
    “I guess you could say I’m a big fan of yours, Miss McCabe.”
    “I appreciate that, Detective.”
    “I waited to tell you until Lowenstein was out with Billings that I’m an amateur writer myself.”
    Who wasn’t? she thought, then forced a smile. It wasn’t like her to be unkind. “Oh, really? Are you writing detective novels?”

    “Just short stories.” His wide, pleasant face flushed with the admission. “You spend a lot of time in the car and just sitting and waiting in my business. Gives you a lot of time to think.”
    “Maybe you could show me something you’ve done.”
    “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
    “I’d like to see it. Why don’t you …” She trailed off when the expression on his face changed. She’d heard it too, a shuffling, the opening of a door.
    “Why don’t you go upstairs? Lock the door.” He drew his weapon out as he took her arm. “Just in case.”
    She moved quickly and without argument. Renockie held his weapon in both hands, pointing up, as he moved.
    In the bedroom, Grace stood with her back to the door, waiting, listening. It was probably nothing. How could it be anything? Ed had him by now. The phone would ring any minute and he’d tell her it was all over.
    Then she heard a board creak and she jumped. Sweat was pouring down her forehead, into her eyes. Calling herself a fool, Grace wiped it away. It was just the aspiring writer coming to tell her all was clear.
    “Desiree?”
    The whisper dried every drop of sweat on her body. She tasted fear. It filled her mouth, but she couldn’t swallow it. As she watched, the doorknob turned to the left, then to the right.
    “Desiree.”
    Trapped. Trapped. The word ran through her mind over and over. She was alone, somehow alone with the man who’d come to kill her. Grace muffled the scream with both hands before it could burst out. She’d known he would come. She’d known yet still she was trapped. But she wasn’t helpless. She scrambled to the drawer that held the gun and fumbled for it just as the door broke in.

    He’s a child, she thought as she stared at him. How could it be that this young boy with an alligator stitched on his shirt and a smattering of pimples on his chin had killed her sister? Then she looked into his eyes, and his eyes told the story.
    “Desiree, you knew I’d come back.”
    “I’m not Desiree.” He had a gun as well. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw it and the smear of blood on his wrist. He carried flowers in his other hand. A bouquet of pink carnations.
    “It doesn’t matter what you call yourself. You came back. You called me back.”
    “Don’t.” She lifted the gun as he took a step toward her. “Don’t come near me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
    “You can’t.” He laughed as though delighted with her. He’d never wanted anything more than he wanted her. Never wanted anything more than he wanted to please her. “We both know you can’t hurt me. We’re beyond that now, you and I. Remember what it was like? Remember, Desiree? Your life flowed out into my hands while mine flowed into you.”
    “You killed my sister. I know it. The police know it. They’re coming.”
    “I love you.” He stepped closer as he spoke, nearly hypnotizing her with those eyes. “It’s only been you. Together we can do anything, be anything. You’ll keep coming back to me. And I’ll keep listening, and waiting. It’ll be just like before. Time after time.” He held out the flowers.
    They heard the sound at the same time. Grace saw Renockie, the blood flowing down his face from where the butt of Jerald’s gun had struck him. He was propped against the door, struggling to steady himself.
    Jerald turned, his lips drawn back in a snarl. As he raised his gun, Grace fired.
    W HAT THE HELL’S GOING on?” Ben and Ed raced up the walk just as Lowenstein managed to kick the front door in.

    “I went to get doughnuts for Billings and tell him to wrap it up. When I came back, the door was locked.” Weapons came out and the three of them entered and separated. Ed saw the blood. His gaze followed the trail upstairs. He’d already sprung forward when they heard the shot.
    His heart stopped.