Her Final Confession

Chapter Eighteen

SEPTEMBER 1993

Seattle, Washington

Travis’s lips trailed along Janine’s neck, tickling her ear and making her giggle. The martinis had gone to her head. Or maybe it was him. It had been eight months, two weeks, three days, and seven hours between the time he was deployed and the time he arrived back at Fort Lewis. Things had been unexpectedly awkward once they got their first long embrace out of the way. It was Travis’s idea to go out for drinks—and it had worked. Within two hours, things felt back to normal between them. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Travis tipped the bartender generously, and they headed back to Janine’s house, falling through the front door in a tangle of limbs.

They didn’t bother turning on any lights as they collapsed onto the couch. Janine ran her hands up and down Travis’s back. It had been so long, she was ready to explode. She pushed his chest, guiding him until he rolled onto his back. Straddling him, a smile curved her lips. As she lowered herself down to kiss him once more, he grimaced.

“Hold on, babe,” he said.

They disentangled, and he began emptying his pockets, tossing his wallet, spare change, and car keys onto the coffee table. Janine walked her fingers up his thigh as she waited. When he spoke next, his voice was different—tense and suspicious rather than breathy and teasing. “What the hell is this?”

Janine looked up at him, searching his face. “What?”

He leaned down and scooped something off the coffee table, holding the object in front of her face. She strained to make it out in the dim haze of the streetlight that seeped through her windows.

“These are men’s glasses,” Travis said.

Janine smiled nervously. “So? They’re not mine.”

“How did they get here? Who’s been here? Are you seeing someone?”

She blinked, trying to clear the fog in her head, suddenly wishing she hadn’t had that last martini. “I don’t… babe, those aren’t mine. I don’t know where they came from.”

He stepped away from her, his dark-brown eyes glittering angrily down at her. “There are men’s glasses on your coffee table, and you don’t know how they got here? Do you think I’m stupid?”

She reached for his hand, but he pulled away. “No,” she pleaded. “I swear. I don’t know where they came from. They weren’t here earlier. Someone must have been here. Maybe you should check—”

“Don’t lie to me, Janine.” He turned away from her and stalked off. A moment later she heard a thump, and Travis shouted, “Dammit!”

Janine stood, swaying slightly. “Wait, Travis—”

Then a new voice, male, one Janine had never heard before, sounded from the darkness. “Yeah, Travis, why don’t you wait a minute?”

She saw Travis’s form spin around. From behind her, a flashlight shone in Travis’s face. He put a hand up. “Who the hell is that?”

“Travis, I’m scared—” Janine screeched as she felt a hand tangle in her hair, tugging her head back.

The stranger’s breath was hot on her ear. “Oh, you should be, Janine.”