Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(60)
The house wasn’t cold, but she shivered as she followed him into the kitchen. Her arms hugged her stiff body. Wet socks left footprints on the floor. She looked lost, like she didn’t want to be there. He couldn’t blame her. She’d wanted to leave town. He rubbed at the pressure building in the center of his chest. She’d wanted to leave him.
“OK.” Jayne toed off sodden sneakers in the mudroom and hung her coat on a peg. “Where’s Scott?”
“He’s staying at Brandon’s tonight.”
Jayne’s posture remained stiff. Did she not want to be alone with him?
“Do you want to try and call your brother?”
She nodded. “Soon as we hear from the auto shop. If the Jeep is repairable, I’ll get one of them to fly up and drive back with me. If it’s toast, I’ll just fly home.”
If that turned out to be the case, Reed would go with her and deliver her safely to her brother.
“I didn’t kill my wife.”
She turned and met his gaze, head-on. “I know.”
“Scott and I were camping with his Boy Scout troop that night.” Words crowded Reed’s chest, scrambled free. “Madeline had moved out a couple months before. She said she couldn’t be a cop’s wife anymore. Too much stress.” He swallowed the guilt.
Jayne moved a step closer. “It’s not your fault.”
“But I knew from the beginning she wasn’t cut out for that life. Madeline wasn’t good with pressure. If I’d have left the force like she wanted, she’d still be alive.”
“You know it’s not that simple.” Her hand found his forearm. The solid weight of it grounded him. “What happened to your wife was horrible. But you can’t take the blame.”
Jayne squeezed his arm, but Reed pulled away. He took a few steps and focused on the window. Outside, darkness had fallen. He flipped on the exterior lights. Snow reflected the brightness, illuminating the yard in stark black and white.
“One of her friends testified that Madeline suspected she was being followed. She hoped it was me. That I wanted her back. That I was ready to leave the force for her.”
Jayne took a step toward him. “Reed, you don’t have to—”
Raising a hand, he cut her off. The truth had been festering inside him for years. As painful as the process was, he needed to let it out. “But I didn’t want to reconcile. Honestly, I was relieved the day she walked out the door. No more bickering 24/7. She died because I was selfish. I just wanted some peace and quiet.” And there it was. The real source of all his guilt. Something he’d never allowed himself to admit. When Madeline moved out, an incredible, blissful silence had filled his house. No more coming home from a long shift to a longer argument. Even though he had to share custody, Reed enjoyed his time with Scott so much more without all the stress Madeline had added to the equation.
“Your wife was killed by the superintendent of her building. It had nothing to do with you.”
The twenty-year-old super had stalked Madeline from the day she moved in. His hidey-hole in the basement had been covered with photos, notes on her day-to-day activities, small things he’d stolen from her apartment when she wasn’t home. He’d been arrested for stalking in Richmond the year before, but no one had ever pressed charges. He had no official record for anyone to check. The only person to blame was the murderer. None of that stopped Reed from carrying the guilt of her death.
“The police never considered me a suspect. But it took them a while to accumulate enough evidence to arrest the real killer. The press had months to speculate on my guilt. Not only did they have the statement from Madeline’s friend claiming she thought I was following her, they had the money I inherited. Madeline came from a wealthy family. Even though we’d separated, she hadn’t taken me out of her will. I was never interested in the money. I put it all in trust for Scott.” He turned to Jayne, searching her eyes for any sign that she was now repulsed by him.
But Jayne’s eyes only reflected his pain. She eased closer and reached for his hand. Her fingers were cold and Reed enveloped her hand between his palms. “Thank God he was with you that night.”
A wave of goose bumps passed over the exposed flesh of Reed’s forearms. If Madeline’s killer had picked the next weekend…“I do that every single day.”
Dark semicircles underscored her eyes, reminding Reed someone had tried to kill her a few days before. His chest tightened again, the relief from purging his soul evaporating as he contemplated the danger surrounding her. Nothing could happen to Jayne. “You should eat something.”
“I’d rather shower first, if that’s OK. I’m freezing.”
“Sure.” But all Reed could think of was the last time he’d warmed her up. Body-to-body, tucked into his sleeping bag. And how much he wanted to do it again. Her long limbs would surround him, hold him close enough to feel the beat of her heart against his chest. He’d give her warmth, and she’d give him sanity.
Instead, he carried her duffel bag through the master bedroom to the bath and set it on the vanity, keeping a few feet of empty space between them. “Do you remember where everything is?”
She brushed past him. Their arms rubbed. The contact sent a wave of electricity through his body, even through the soft wool of his sweater and her thick sweatshirt. Jayne glanced over her shoulder. Her blue eyes widened, darkened, mirrored his desire. The pulse that thrummed in his temple began to echo in his loins. Primal urges to possess, protect, and claim her rushed through him.