Page 58 of Stay Away from Him

Derek gave Melissa a sharp glare. “That’s how they saw it. But I know he’s not innocent.”

Melissa sighed. She wasn’t sure if this could be a productive discussion. Derek seemed unshakable in his belief that Thomas killed Rose. And part of what he was saying was convincing. But he didn’t seem to realize how desperate and untrustworthy his story made him appear, how much he seemed like a person who had something to prove.

“Here’s what I see,” Melissa said after a moment, speaking slowly, trying to choose her words carefully. “I see a guy who messed up.”

Derek’s composure cracked, and Melissa could tell she’d hit a nerve. “That’s not—”

“Just let me finish,” Melissa said, raising a hand. “You messed up. You didn’t take Rose’s stalker complaint seriously enough. Then, later, when she went missing, you focused on Thomas and never really considered anyone else. You just figured it was the husband.”

“That wasn’t lazy police work,” Derek cut in, his voice rising angrily. “There’s areasonyou look at the husband or boyfriend when a woman goes missing. More than seventy percent of female murder victims are killed by an intimate partner.”

Melissa closed her eyes, not wanting to hear it—Thomas was currentlyherintimate partner—and repeated herself. “You figured it was the husband. And when new information came out that exposed your sloppy police work—”

“I wasn’t sloppy…”

“Yoursloppypolice work,” Melissa said again, her voice rising to meet Derek’s, “you fixated on the guy who’d made you look like an idiot. And you’re still fixated. It’s unethical, what you’re doing, sharing information on an open case, but you don’t care about that,do you? Because you can’t let go of the case. Can’t let go of Thomas. Can’t admit you were wrong.”

Derek was silent a few moments, just looking at Melissa. Hearing it laid out like that seemed to have taken something out of him, deflated him of his righteous anger, his defensiveness, his bluster.

“Maybe,” he admitted, then lifted a finger. “Or. You’re in love with this guy. And you can’t see the truth about him. Because you don’t want to.”

Now Melissa was the one who was quiet, and Derek was the one who’d struck a nerve.

“We’re at an impasse,” Melissa said. “I don’t want to believe Thomas is guilty. And you and Kelli don’t want to believe he’s not.”

“But one of us is right,” Derek said. “Something’strue.”

“Yes,” Melissa said. “We just have to prove it one way or the other. You really don’t think there’s anything to the stalker theory? You couldn’t have missed anything back when you investigated it?”

Derek shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “I suppose I could have,” he admitted. “Rose reported seeing a white sedan a lot—parked on her street, following her around town. But there’s a lot of white sedans out there. She could never come up with a make or model. No license plate. I couldn’t do anything with it.”

“She never got a look at the guy she thought was following her?”

“Once,” Derek said. “White guy, forties, a sort of scraggly beard, and a scar on his chin.” Derek made a cutting motion across his face with the side of his hand.

“That’s pretty specific.”

“Yes, but who knows if this guy was even following her?” Derek said. “Rose was a paranoid woman. She thought the world was out to get her—largely, I think, because Thomasmadeher feel that way.But this guy? Who’s to say he wasn’t just driving one of the many hundreds of white sedans on the road, and Rose got a look at him as he passed? Anyway, without more to go on, I couldn’t find him.”

“Okay,” Melissa said. “It’s not much, but it’s something. A white guy with a scar on his chin who drives a white sedan.”

“And what about you?” Derek asked.

“Whataboutme?”

“You say I need to consider the stalker theory, to look at it more closely—but what about everything I’ve told you? That Kelli has told you? Are you taking any of it seriously? What areyoudoing to get to the truth?”

The anger that had been boiling just beneath Melissa’s breastbone came once more to the surface, burned the back of her throat, and flamed white-hot at the corner of her vision until it was the only thing she could feel. What did this man know about her? He had his suspicions, his grudges, his need to prove himself. But Melissa had her whole history, her divorce, her hopes and dreams and fears for her son and herself. She also had a man who claimed to love her, a man she was beginning to love in turn—and the misgivings that still prevented her from trusting him fully, because people like Derek and Kelli wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t stop plaguing her with the things they thought they knew.

And then she thought of the event that was looming in just a day’s time: the dinner. Taking things to the next level. A further invitation into Thomas’s home, his family—his life.

“I think we’re done here,” she said to Derek Gordon, then scooted out of the booth and stood. “I’m the one who’s actually in this. Me, my son, our future. There’s no one who wants to get to the truth more than me.”

Then she turned and walked away, not looking back. Close to the door, the server who’d brought them their drinks—Melissa hadn’t touched hers—gave her a smile.

“All done?” she asked.

“Yes,” Melissa said, then jerked a thumb angrily over her shoulder. “He’ll get the check.”

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