Free The Perfect Murder by Brenda Novak

the truth. She wouldn't understand how cornered, how trapped, he'd been, that the path he'd chosen had been the only way out with the debts he'd racked up and a pending divorce. Only something that extreme would allow him to start over.
    Would a lie work any better?
    He couldn't see how. Maybe he could present a different version of the past and get her to buy it, but he couldn't stop her from talking to her family and friends. She'd tell her mom or sister that she was back in a relationship with him, and word would spread until the news reached friends in San Antonio. Before long, someone would say, "I heard he was dead. I heard he killed his wife and stepson, then committed suicide in New Jersey." And that was all it would take to unravel the perfect murder.
    The sound of movement in the extra bedroom brought Malcolm's head up, his ears tuned for trouble. What was that? He'd thought the sisters were asleep.
    He'd punished Marcie so severely, he couldn't believe either of them would dare 67

    breathe, let alone move. But something was going on.
    With a curse, he shoved away from the table and crossed the hall.
    "What the hell are you doing?" he hollered as he turned on the light.
    Marcie screamed and curled into a ball. Latisha scrambled into the corner, her ankle chain rattling as she drew her knees to her chest. The mattresses he'd thrown down for them when he first brought them home had been tossed into the backyard. He was making them sleep on the hard floor, punishing them both, even though it was Marcie who'd disobeyed.
    "I asked you a question!" he bellowed.
    "We're not doing anything. Her--her mouth's bleeding." Squinting against the light, Latisha pointed at her sister. "I was just trying to stop the bleeding."
    "She's bleeding because she didn't obey. If you don't lie down and quit shuffling around, you're going to be bleeding, too. Your sister's damn lucky I didn't kill her!" Lord knows he'd been tempted. If he hadn't had to concentrate on his driving he probably would have.
    "You try to escape again and I'll do it. You understand? It's pointless to run.
    There's nowhere to go out here. We don't have any neighbors, no one close enough to help you."
    Tears trickled down Latisha's face. "Please let us go," she said, her voice falling to a whisper. "We won't tell anyone about you. We swear it. We won't talk to the police. We just want to go home."
    She sounded sincere. But Malcolm knew she'd change her mind once she was safe. He wasn't stupid enough to believe he could ever set them free. He also wasn't stupid enough to let them know it. They'd be a lot easier to control if they thought there was a chance.
    "I'll tell you what," he said. "You be on your best behavior and work hard like you should and in another week or so I'll see what I can do. Okay?"
    Latisha exchanged a glance with her sister, then nodded. "Yes, sir. We--we'll do whatever you say. Won't we, Marcie?"
    Marcie seemed less willing to agree.
    " Won't we, Marcie!" Latisha prodded.
    "Yes, sir."
    Malcolm ignored the sullenness of her reply. "I'm glad we finally understand each other."
    He managed a smile but let it fade as soon as he stomped out of the room.
    68

    "Stupid bitches," he muttered under his breath. Most women weren't good for anything except...
    The image that appeared caused a rush of testosterone so powerful it brought him to an abrupt halt. He'd always taken full advantage of the "badge bunnies" who threw themselves at any man wearing a uniform. But he hadn't touched Latisha and Marcie. He'd told himself he wouldn't stoop that low. The officers he used to work with held sex offenders in the highest contempt. He didn't want to know they'd think of him in the same way.
    But he'd never see his former coworkers again. So who would know?
    Besides, it was because of Latisha and Marcie that he couldn't go to Franklin Boulevard to pick up a prostitute.
    After all the teasing and flirting he'd done with Mary, he wanted a woman.
    Badly. And there