Baby Doll(53)

Eve despised Rick Hanson with every single fiber in her body, but she still didn’t want Lily to terminate her pregnancy. Lily had been through enough. Eve no longer considered herself a believer. Still, there was the off chance that Lily’s soul might be in danger, that she could be punished in spite of all she’d been through. But this wasn’t her call. Eve would support Lily no matter what she decided. What Eve really wanted was to stop the outside world from dragging her daughter down. She wanted to get rid of the parasites on her porch; she wanted to protect Sky and her girls. But she was helpless and it was killing her.

She downed the last of the scotch and peered outside. The media seemed to be resting, returning to their crypts or wherever they went so they’d be ready for their continued assault tomorrow. Eve reached for her phone and stared down at the keypad.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it, she told herself.

She texted him and waited. Endless moments.

Be there in twenty minutes, the response came back.

Fifteen minutes later Eve sat in her car in the parking lot of the Dunkin’ Donuts, the heater running. This was a mistake. Go back to your girls, she tried to tell herself. Forget about him. But then she saw Tommy climbing out of his police cruiser and she abandoned all rational thought. She joined Tommy, the two of them leaning against the hood of her still-warm car. In spite of all the time that passed, being together was familiar, comfortable.

“I heard about Lily and the baby. Are you hanging in there?” he asked.

“By the tiniest of a thread,” Eve said.

“You’re so damn strong, Evie. You’ll get through this. Just like you always have.”

“I hope so,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for everything.”

“It’s my job, Eve. I’m just doing my job.”

“It’s always been more than a job. You know that.”

He bristled, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

“So that’s the reason you wanted to see me? To say thanks. Eve, it’s late and we’re exhausted and…”

She leaned over and kissed him. Right in the middle of this empty parking lot, her lips found his, and she sank into him. He continued the kiss, tugging at Eve’s clothes. She pulled away first.

“We can’t do this.”

He stepped back, instantly apologetic. “I understand.”

“I meant, not here. There’s a motel. Five minutes away.”

Was she really doing this? Was she that foolish that she was going to start this up again? But there was no hesitation on his part. He got into his car and she followed him. He paid for the room and they both parked near the back of the motel.

He opened the door and she followed him in. He clicked the lock and then he turned to stare at her. Up close, she realized that she’d been wrong. He’d aged a great deal in the last few years. But then so had she. He rubbed his callused hand against her cheek. Eve’s eyes closed and she leaned into his touch. He kissed her again, a kiss that showed no restraint. A kiss that held all the sorrow and anguish they’d experienced in the last few days, in the last eight years. All she could think about was his hot breath against her neck, the feel of her breasts in his hands, her smooth, naked skin pressed against his. He’d walked away from her once. He’d done the right thing. Eve should have remembered that. But tonight, she didn’t care about right or wrong. All that mattered right now was the two of them, in this room, in this bed. To hell with the rest of it, she thought.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


RICK


She’d done it. Missy had actually come through. Not only had she hired one of the best defense attorneys in the country but she’d also gone on the national news and proclaimed her faith in him. Rick still couldn’t believe his great fortune. Missy wasn’t simply good. She was fantastic. Flanked by reporters, perfectly attired in her navy dress, her fresh-from-the-salon blowout, she appeared young, sweet, and oh so trusting. She’d come back to see him and he’d told her about the photo, told her about the safety deposit box he’d hidden it in. She wasn’t giving him a free pass.

“I think you need help, Rick. Psychiatric help. But we’ve been married fifteen years. I can’t just walk away.”

So his story about Lily hadn’t been entirely believable, but he was starting to have a good feeling about Missy, and his odds of getting out of this place. And then several days passed and Missy showed up, trembling, on edge, glancing around as if she were being followed.

“Missy, what’s wrong?”

“I think you’re right, Rick. I think those girls are unstable.”

Rick leaned back in his seat. This was a promising new development.

“What happened?”

“Abby Riser came to our home. She threatened. She threatened to… to kill me.”

This was so perfect. He couldn’t have planned it better himself.

“I told you. I told you they’re not well. But listen to me, none of this is your fault. You’re innocent in all of this. You have to protect yourself,” he’d told her.

“I don’t know what to do. Everyone’s going around like they’re the Second Coming of Christ. No one will believe you.”

“Were there witnesses when she threatened you?”

“My parents. And the news people were still there.”