Brazen Virtue

crazy.”
    “His voice, Mrs. Morrison,” Ben prompted. “Did you recognize it? Have you talked to him before?”
    “No, no, I’m sure I haven’t. He was only a child. We don’t take calls from minors.”
    “Why do you say he was a child?” Ed spoke quickly, while they had the edge.
    “Because he was. Seventeen or eighteen at best. Yes.” The flush faded into pallor as she thought back. “I’m not sure how, but I know he was young. Not tall, only a few inches taller than me. I’m five-five. And he wasn’t, well, filled out. I just kept thinking he was a kid and it couldn’t be real. I know I’ve never heard his voice before. I couldn’t have forgotten it.” Even now, with her husband’s arm around her, she could hear it. “And he said—” Without thinking, she reached out for Tess’s hand. “Oh God, I remember he said it was going to be different this time. He wasn’t going to rush. He kept talking about someone named Desiree and how he loved her. He mentioned her a few times. He said something about a Roxanne and that she was a slut. Does that make sense?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Ed noted it down. One more piece, he thought. One more piece to the puzzle.
    “Mrs. Morrison.” Tess touched her hand again. “Did he seem to confuse you with Desiree?”

    “No,” Mary Beth decided after a minute. “No, it was more like a comparison. Whenever he said that name, it was almost with a kind of reverence. That sounds stupid.”
    “No.” Tess turned until her gaze met Ben’s. “No, it doesn’t.”
    “He seemed, well, almost friendly in a horrible way. I don’t know how to explain it. It was as if he expected me to be pleased to see him. He only got angry when I resisted. Then he was furious—like a child is when you take something away. There were tears in his voice. He called me a whore—no, he said we were all whores, all lying whores and that the next time he’d make all of us suffer.”
    The fat cocker spaniel waddled in and sniffed at Tess.
    “That’s Binky,” Mary Beth said with a few fresh tears. “If it hadn’t been for him—”
    “He’s eating steak for the rest of his life.” Harry brought her hand to his lips as she managed a watery laugh.
    “I’d dragged the poor dog outside thinking he was barking at the cat, and all the time …” She trailed off again and shook her head. “I know this is going to get in the papers, but I’d appreciate it if you could minimize it. The children.” She looked toward Tess again, feeling a woman would understand. “I don’t want them to have to face all of this. And the business about Fantasy, well, it’s not that I’m ashamed of it, really. It seemed like such a handy way to start college funds, but I’m not sure the other mothers would like the Brownie troop leader involved in that sort of thing.”
    “We’ll do what we can,” Ed promised. “If I could give you some advice, I’d say to turn in your resignation there.”
    “Already done,” Harry said.
    “It would also be best if you weren’t alone for the next few days.”

    Mary Beth paled again. This time her skin seemed translucent. Whatever courage she’d managed to work up trembled on the edge. “You think he’ll be back?”
    “There’s no way to be sure.” Ed hated to frighten her, but he wanted to save her life. “This is a very dangerous man, Mrs. Morrison. We don’t want you to take any unnecessary chances. We’re going to arrange for protection. In the meantime, we’d like you to come down to the station and look at mug shots, and work with the police artist.”
    “I’ll do whatever I can. I want you to catch him soon. Very soon.”
    “You may just have helped us do that.” Ben rose. “We appreciate your cooperation.”
    “I—I never offered you coffee.” Mary Beth found herself suddenly and terribly afraid to let them go. She wanted to be surrounded and safe. They were policemen, and police knew what to do. “I don’t know what I could have been thinking of.”
    “That’s all right.” Tess squeezed her hand so that they rose together. “You should rest now. Let your husband take you upstairs. He’ll stay with you. When you go down to the station tomorrow, they can give you numbers to call, organizations that can help you deal with this. Or you can just call and talk to me.”
    “I’m not used to being scared.” In Tess’s eyes she saw compassion, female compassion. And she needed it, she discovered, more than she needed the