The Perfect Husband - Lisa Gardner [131]
Marion shrugged. “Depends on where Beckett stands. Either way, they’ll see him coming and the rest of us will mobilize.”
“Huh. Windows wired?”
“All wired. Bug in every room.”
“The bathroom?” Tess asked. Now she was beginning to remember all the details her mind had conveniently blanked from the last time. She’d hated last time.
“Every room. This is your life, right?”
“Lucky me.”
“You need anything, just speak up loudly. We’ll be monitoring you from the van at all times.”
“I guess this means no sex,” Tess said. She was struggling for control.
“Only if you want an audience,” Marion said expressionlessly. “Any questions?”
“Did you pull sewage maps of the area? What about manholes, any underground systems?”
“J.T., we know what we’re doing.”
“I don’t want to see any utility trucks in the area. No cable company, no phone men, no electric company. Call and tell them to keep out or I’ll personally give their driver the message. It’s too easy for Big Bad Jim to use something like that.”
“We won’t even permit door-to-door encyclopedia salesmen,” Marion assured him.
“Huh.” J.T. turned to Tess. “Fine with you?”
“Just dandy.” She forced a smile to take the sting from the words. It didn’t work. She still felt like a rat in a trap.
She glanced at Marion. “Any news about Sam?” she whispered, though she knew there wasn’t.
“Not at this time.”
“Difford’s body?”
“Nothing.”
J.T. shook his head. Marion scowled. “The task force is working very hard, goddammit. We’ll let you know as soon as we get a break. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some loose ends to attend to. I’ll return by sundown.”
Marion headed for the door. J.T. followed, catching up with her in the doorway.
“How are you?” he asked before he lost his courage.
She didn’t answer right away. “Fine.” She glanced toward Tess, then looked at him. “Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“She’s a strong woman, J.T. I’m happy for you.”
He scowled, then gave it up. “Yeah. She is. Thanks.” He looked away for a moment. The sky had become unbearably bright and clear. “She deserves better,” he said.
“You’re not so bad.”
“Not so bad?”
“Not so bad.”
“Marion . . .” His throat constricted. He couldn’t say the words. It wasn’t the way things worked between them. He settled for brushing her arm lightly. “Keep me posted about the stuff with Roger, okay? I’m not the best at saying the right things, but I know you loved him, Marion. I’d like to help. You know, if I can.”
Marion looked at the floor. “J.T., you know those mean things I said about Rachel?”
He nodded. He remembered each and every one of them.
“I sent her to you,” she confessed in a rush. “She came to me looking for help. And I—I just couldn’t help her. I looked at her, and I wanted her to just go away. I couldn’t even bear to look at her. Just this poor slip of girl, and I couldn’t even look at her. Stupid, wasn’t it?”
She shrugged. He began to hear the things left unsaid.
“I gave her your name. I told her you would help. I knew . . . I knew you would have the guts to do what I couldn’t.”
“You did the right thing, Marion. Thank you.”
“Good,” she said quietly. She sounded better. “I wanted you to know.”
“I’ll be there for you, Marion. When you’re ready.”
She smiled again, faint and tremulous. Briefly she touched his face.
“I know.”
She left.
He turned back to Tess.
She still stood in the middle of the living room, looking ragged from her sleepless night. Her thumbnail had gone to work on her other fingers. She didn’t seem to notice.
He walked toward her and brushed her mangled fingernails. She flinched, looking chagrined.
“Got your gun?”
“Yes,” she said, clearly startled.
“Want to practice now? We can do some shadow targeting without bullets.”
Her relief was palpable. “All right.”
He nodded, already reaching for the 9 millimeter holstered against the small of his back. He had a .22 around his left ankle and a hunting knife strapped against the inside of his left forearm cast.
He was ready.
Tess retrieved her gun from her purse.
“We’re ready, Tess. We’ll